There’s wisdom at the bottom of a ceramic mug full of green tea.

Green tea, like a lot of other healthy things, isn’t particularly enjoyable. But it provides room to think about life, while you concentrate on ignoring the hot, bitter liquid.

There was some strange variant of envy surging along earlier. It was viscous and leaf coloured and unpleasant overall. I watched it come along and consume me, even though it was pretty far away. I watched it occupy the insides of my head. I grimaced and tried to shake it away but it stayed on. I tried writing about it and breaking it down into small, palatable bits. But it followed to logic and refused to abide by any rules. It just continued to gush around, getting angrier and thicker.

It was time more than a healthy beverage, but that’s too hackneyed for us to allow into our acceptance. At the end of the day, while emptying the contents of the mug into my gut, I realized that my head felt lighter and the swishing sound was gone. I had grown out of it and that too without too much specific effort.

There’s this feeling of letting things go. It’s really hard to do but the after effects are delectable.