have a sip of tea - life at first letter to itself

have a pot of tea.

imagine sipping from a warm pot of tea.

when you take that first sip,

what type of tea did you imagine drinking?

is it light?

bitter?

sweet?

was the flavor,

a delicate blend of chamomile and honey?

soothing your senses with its gentle sweetness?

'cause in a world transformed by a pandemic,

a pot of tea became a sanctuary.

its warmth embraced us,

a refuge from realities.

throughout the pandemic,

our lives transformed in unpredictable ways.

in that tranquil moment,

dreams are woven into reality.

dreams intertwined with reality,

a tapestry woven with hope and hardship.

so did you dream a dream?

'cause we did.

ever wonder how one pandemic has changed all of us.

for the better or not,

it depend.

across digital landscapes,

crossing oceans.

we found solace in newfound friendships from corners of the world we'd never have explored otherwise.

new friendships blossomed,

transcending borders,

defying oceans.

oceans were crossed,

not just in miles but in experiences shared.

we navigated this uncharted territory,

how was yours like?

ours was wild.

our shared journey wild and untamed.

some said sometimes it takes ten years to get that one year that changes your life,

ours did.

let me tell you our story for CreateTogether.

and you can decide on what you think.

life at first letter to itself.

in a world where noise spreads like wildfire,

can it even hear its own voice in its head?

winged seraphs of the sea deceived it into falling for the dying.

who needs april fool’s when its whole existence feels like a joke?

given many roads,

which path would it take—the easy one or the one less traveled?

but does it even matter if the destination is the same?

then again,

regardless of the choosen path,

it will forever miss the lessons and wonders of the other.

the destination may or may not change,

but the journey of the path not taken will always be lost.

missing out.

so, does it even matter?

if anne frank had held on for one more week,

she might have survived,

but would fate have intervened another way?

if there had been no betrayer behind the bookshelf,

would she and the others have lived—

beyond the war,

beyond the pages of history,

as holocaust survivors instead of just a girl in a book?

is everything predestined, then?

if time were reversed—

if it knew everything this path had given and taken—

would it still choose the same way?

or would it take another,

even without knowing what the alternative held?

would anne frank change anything?

sunday, 14 june 1942

on friday, june 12th, i woke up at six o’clock—and no wonder; it was my birthday. but of course, i was not allowed to get up at that hour, so i had to control my curiosity until a quarter to seven. then i could bear it no longer and went to the dining room, where i received a warm welcome from moortje (the cat). soon after seven, i went to mummy and daddy and then to the sitting room to unwrap my presents. the first to greet me was you—possibly the nicest gift of all.

on the table, there were a bunch of roses, a plant, and some peonies, and more arrived throughout the day. i got masses of things from mummy and daddy and was thoroughly spoiled by various friends. among other things, i was given camera obscura, a party game, lots of sweets, chocolates, a puzzle, a brooch, tales and legends of the netherlands by joseph cohen, daisy’s mountain holiday (a terrific book), and some money. now i can buy the myths of greece and rome—grand!

then lies called for me, and we went to school. during recess, i treated everyone to sweet biscuits, and then we had to go back to our lessons. now i must stop. bye-bye, we’re going to be great pals!

would she still be the anne frank they know today?

it, having seen the scars it has left,

the inspiration it has sparked, the lessons it has learned,

& the unknown ripples it has created—

knowing all it has done,

& saw this path of its letter to itself,

would it still take this path?

or would it change?

I shot an arrow into the air,

It fell to earth, I knew not where;

For, so swiftly it flew, the sight

Could not follow it in its flight.

I breathed a song into the air,

It fell to earth, I knew not where;

For who has sight so keen and strong,

That it can follow the flight of song?

Long, long afterward, in an oak

I found the arrow, still unbroke;

And the song, from beginning to end,

I found again in the heart of

send the letter of the fool further;

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#createtogether #haveasipoftea #lifeatfirst #lifeatfirstlettertoitself