Hobbies
Why drinking matcha is right
2026-01-01
Romanticizing life (2026 is actually 2016).
Why drinking matcha is right
2026-01-01
TLDR: I picked up the matcha ritual to sharpen my morning routine, not just for the caffeine. It’s been grounding, precise, and surprisingly effective for sustained focus. I’m still refining my whisking technique—aiming for that perfect micro-foam—but it’s teaching me patience, temperature control, and how to start the day with intention rather than a cortisol spike.
I didn’t switch to matcha just for the aesthetic—I switched because I needed a fuel source that actually worked with my brain, not against it. I needed something quiet, deliberate, and detached from the instant gratification of an espresso shot. A protocol where the outcome depends on care, quality, and process—just discipline and clarity. Matcha became that anchor.
I started with a basic bamboo whisk and a tin of ceremonial grade powder. The first few bowls were bitter and clumpy—a total syntax error. But over time, the variables clicked. I started understanding the nuance of water temperature (never boiling), the wrist motion, and the ratio. My goal now is simple: perfect the daily bowl while actually appreciating the logic behind the ceremony, not just consuming it.
What I love about matcha is the L-theanine. It rewires your caffeine response to be linear rather than jagged. It’s become my system reset before long coding sessions or deep work blocks—pure, sustained flow without the crash.
For anyone running on coffee anxiety or feeling mentally scattered, matcha is an antidote disguised as a beverage. Start with a proper whisk, buy decent powder (not the culinary grade stuff), and treat the preparation like a meditative loop. It’s not just about the drink—it’s about the ritual. Every minute you spend whisking is one minute you aren’t doomscrolling.
Why chess? (Sorry Supercell)
2025-10-29
Practiced tactics; aiming for 1400 rapid.
Why chess? (Sorry Supercell)
2025-10-29
TLDR: I picked up chess to sharpen how I think, not just how I play. It’s been humbling, addicting, and surprisingly meditative. I’m still a beginner — aiming for 1400 rapid — but it’s teaching me patience, pattern recognition, and how to think three moves ahead in both games and life.
I didn’t get into chess because I wanted to be good at it — I got into it because I needed something that made me think again. Something quiet, deliberate, and detached from constant noise. A space where progress doesn’t depend on luck, likes, or algorithms — just discipline and clarity. Chess became that escape.
I started training through daily tactics and 10-minute rapid games. The first few days were chaos — blunders, tilted losses, and ego checks. But over time, patterns began to emerge. I started seeing shapes on the board before they happened, anticipating traps, and — most importantly — understanding why I lost. My goal now is simple: reach 1400 rapid while actually learning the logic behind my moves, not just copying openings.
What I love about chess is how it rewires your brain to slow down. It’s become my mental reset after long coding sessions or information overload — pure strategic flow.
For anyone deep in brain rot or feeling mentally scattered, chess is an antidote disguised as a hobby. Start with puzzles, play short games, and learn from creators like GothamChess or Daniel Naroditsky. It’s not about winning — it’s about thinking differently. Every move you calculate replaces one more impulse to scroll.