Happy Thanksgiving everyone,
I hope you all have a heart-warming Thanksgiving day with your loved ones.
God bless!
November 2011
23 posts
Play
The End of Cheap Coffee →
good.is
Between 2006 and 2009, the Colombian yield shrank by a quarter—from 12 million bags to 7.8 million, the lowest yield in 33 years. The forecast doesn’t look good for the rest of the coffee-growing world, either: more pests in East Africa, more hurricanes in Central America, more droughts in Indonesia. Global coffee stockpiles are close to record lows. “There is simply not enough coffee in the world,” Jose Sette, now the former executive director of the International Coffee Organization, told Bloomberg in February. Combine this with other economic realities—the rising cost of fertilizer and the fact that young people, bound for the cities, aren’t following in their parents’ coffee-growing footsteps—and you can understand the term that Peter Baker has coined as a warning: “peak coffee.” Just like with oil, the world is maxing out the volume of coffee it can sustain.
“Out of clutter, find Simplicity. From discord, find Harmony. In the middle of difficulty, lies Opportunity.”
—Albert Einstein
foolish:
to think that perhaps
more would come out
of a situation,
only to be mistaken that
not all things turn out
for the better,
the way one would hope.
so foolish am i to desire
what isn’t.
so foolish of me to try.
“All great and precious things are lonely.”
—John Steinbeck, East of Eden (via pavorst)
I won't be found →
amidnight-dreary.tumblr.com
Sometimes I dream of running away.
Don’t you ever think of escaping?
Oh, how wonderful, liberating
it must feel to just abandon a life,
problems, troubles, heartache,
and just run.
Run as fast as your feet will
allow, until you feel as if you
are floating, your toes barely
touching the ground, just embracing
the wind that blows through
your hair, the cold breeze that
stings your eyes, you get used to it.
I imagine running away,
changing my name,
creating this wonderful identity,
and fooling everyone.
I could become someone else,
someone beautiful, passionate,
with a heart that has only known
hurt, looking for a fresh start.
I have only one fear,
that my past will find me.
Even with a new name, what if
the painful memories plague my
dreams at night, infect the new
life I create?
What if the hurt comes back again,
and this time, it’s worse?I fantasize about how I will escape,
run away from this painful reality,
but sometimes I feel as if I just want
to run away from myself.
I can run, hide, change my name,
but I can never escape my one true enemy,
the source of my constant misery.
Myself.
Goodbye Facebook! :P
Play
Play
Play
Play
full of emptiness.
a balloon hides
in a corner of the ceiling
with the fading echoes
of trapped songs,
trying to escape
the lonely postscript
of a party.
