Aiming

I get so tired of it all. Of pretending. Of always having to come up with something "meaningful" in life, It's exhausting. It's not that I don't get why or how to do it. I feel like I've gotten pretty good at it by now.
But still... Sometimes the role-playing just becomes too much. The pretending makes me sick to my stomach and I need to sit back and breathe. Which is okay, I guess. Except, that's when the thinking starts. And the thinking leads to despair. To that point where aiming seems aimless. Where I don't know  whether to puke, sleep, or just slam my head into the wall repeatedly until pain is the only thing on my mind.

Life’s not a song.

Life isn’t bliss.

Life is just this.

It’s living.

Face of an Injured Panda

Let me paint you a picture. Not literally; that wouldn't do any of us good.

Turn back time, about 8 hours, and let's zoom in on Nørrebronx, Copenhagen - The tough neighborhood. To one of those new concrete buildings in which it takes an army to hang up a fucking picture on the wall. To an apartment on the first floor. Not one of the "real" apartments. No, the small student one crammed in between the other two.

Open the door and you'll find a small redhead in the remains of a bed that broke a few months after purchase, and apparently didn't have a warranty on it. The redhead knows this "bed" well. Endless hours and entire days have been spent there lately, due to painful joints and skin symptoms of the inflammatory bitch of a disease, Sarcoidosis.

Don't let the appearance fool you. This is a 25-year-old woman, despite what the Star Wars band-aid across the cheek and the diaper rash cream all over the face might suggest. The enormous amounts of smeared mascara is the manifestation of modern-day worries. Worries about having plenty of bills to pay but zero income, about having to plan the future without having any faith in it. Stress over the current state of doing nothing, while the risk of dying from atherosclerosis continues to increase.

This is just yet another day. For the redhead too. Yet another uninformative doctor's appointment, a rare but unsuccessful job interview, yet another extreme headache...

Tears on top of a torturous headache is extensively painful, but it is still easier to sleep the pain away than the despair. That one cannot be evaded. It's always there, wanting attention, pushing towards that final point of giving up. Not letting you know how close you are.

One Too Many Times

Okay. I have no problem with people being religious. I think we're all entitled to put our faith in whatever we want - be it ourselves, each other, fireflies, or some deity. I believe that J.K. Rowling is a hero, and it's fine with me that some people don't believe that to be true.
However, something that does bother me - quite a lot - is when people use horrible, invalid arguments to try and "prove" some religion.
I prefer to keep away from online debates about religion and atheism and so on, because they won't get anyone anywhere (for a number of reasons). But sometimes the annoyance builds up and I need to let it out.

An argument I've heard one too many times is this:
"There must be a creator because The Big Bang cannot have arisen from absolutely nothing"

First of all, we don't "know" that there was nothing before the big bang. Obviously there are many things about the Big Bang theory (those words will always sound different now) that can't easily be tested, and I don't find it surprising that there's a lot we don't know about this.

Second, even if the entire theory turned out to be completely wrong and we had absolutely no idea how anything started, it still wouldn't  make a "God" the best explanation.

Lastly, if your logic is that it's impossible for something to arise from nothing; that there must be a creator... Then who created God??



Okay, I just needed to get that out. I might have to write more "One Too Many Times" posts in the future, when I hear some of the good old invalid arguments.

I don't even know...

Where to start?
I've been meaning to write a post about the traveling and the conventions and all that shizz. Never got around to that.
When I got back home I spent some time trying to adjust. I did not succeed. Instead I got a big round of all-consuming anxiety. The kind that lasts for weeks. The kind that keeps me in bed for days at a time.
Now I'm trying to crawl back out of this mess. Which is made a bit more difficult by the fact that my feet are swollen. Literally... My entire body has been breaking out in strange skin issues, and my feet are swollen and painful. Some days I really can't walk at all. I'm gonna go see the doctor tomorrow. (I cannot possibly say "the doctor" without thinking "The Doctor")

Oh and also, I quit university...

Oy with the poodles already.

STARS HOLLOW!!

Blog post tiiiiime!!

Cat and I went to Warner Brothers Studios in North Hollywood yesterday. This means that I GOT TO GO TO FREAKIN' STARS HOLLOW! I cannot put my fangirl excitement into words, but I am so excited that I don't give a shit about being such a fangirl. Go ahead and hate me for it.
Cat and I basically spent the majority of the tour in ecstasy; literally jumping up and down and gasping at every other sight.
Just... AH, so much awesome!!
We got to see so many things, including Luke's, Miss Patty's, Lane's house, the church, Dosee's Market, Lorelai's house, the gazebo (even though it had been moved), Rory's study tree, and even the Twickham House!
Besides Stars Hollow stuff, we got to see Central Perk, Sheldon Cooper's apartment (and the elevator!!) , LOTS of actual props and costumes from Harry Potter movies - e.g. a petrified Hermione - The Batmobile, and so so much more!
Also, we bought the entire merchandise shop on the way out.
Filming was not allowed, but we were allowed to take pictures on some parts of the tour...

Quick VidCon Scribbles

So, VidCon is over - :-( - and since this hotel wifi sucks beyond sucking I am writing a short blog post instead of getting annoyed that a video won't upload.

An attempt at putting the essence of my many thoughts and feelings into a few sentences:

VidCon was AMAZING. I definitely want to go again next year!
Being around so many people oozing with passion... Just... YES. An instant natural high.
The people behind the con did such a great job with everything and the convention center was great.
The fact that I feel like I know people who have absolutely no clue who I am, is something that will always seem weird to me.
Last year at LeakyCon I was amazed that all the "youtube celebrities" existed in 3D. This time it was the "smaller youtubers" who confused my brain by standing in front of me; full size and no computer screen. People who do know who I am and who I've been communicating with for a while.
Also, meeting a subscriber I don't already know... Oddest thing ever!
Everything was so motivating!! I walked away inspired to vlog a lot more and "not be afraid to be me"... (Cliché for a reason, right?)
I was also reminded of just how extremely awesome the youtube community is! Passion, friendship, inspiration, strength, and so much more. And at the same time we can use the community to support talents that need to be shared with the world.
Really. Just so much awesome and so many things. My brain can hardly handle it. I need to stop writing now, before I explode with the frustration from trying and failing to express the brilliance of VidCon.

I did not proofread this, so excuse any errors... That is all, folks.

Schmequent...

Frequent blogging, schmequent blogging, eh?
This is still more frequent than my blog posts have been in a long time, so YEAH, get off my back, B*¤#§ !

I honestly don't want to get into a long complaining rant-blog, so I'm just gonna state an extremely condensed  version of my thoughts.
I absolutely hate lying in my bed at night, unable to calm down. Overwhelmed by unwelcome feelings of stress and panic. Tossing and turning for hours, wishing I could simply turn of the conscious parts of my brain.
I hate waking up the next morning, surprised that I managed to fall asleep at some point and wondering what time my body finally gave in. Feeling the aftermath of the night's continuous stress signaling and the accompanying frustration and aggregated aggravation.

I hate that.

I also hate admitting defeat. But sometimes it must be done.

OH, and to end this on a happy note: I AM LEAVING NEXT WEEK! Can't wait.

See... HAPPY FACE

Also, I moved and I love my new place, but it's still a mess.

Making stuff up for fun!

THE RETURN OF THE NICCI! (Maybe...)

Yes, I am on a quest to get back into frequent blogging. We'll see how that goes though. Many have tried, and many have failed. But here is step 1.

And why not start with something that seems completely out of character for me; something as superficial as looks! Yes, that's right. But fear not, my friend, I am still me. As always, everything here boils down to fear. Now let's get started with the brain vomit:

For a long time, my fear of judgment has stopped me from taking much interest in my appearance. Well, actually, it's not so much a lack of interest as the usual lack of guts to just do what I want. Let me explain...
In my head, decisions and choices are to be based on some logical set of  demands, ideals, or parameters. Therefore, choosing a dress, a haircut, or a "look" in general leaves me bewildered, because there is no logic upon which I can base my decisions. (I know this explanation is getting a bit convoluted, but stay with me here...) Thus, for example, if I was to make an effort to look a specific way or "go for a certain look" (or whatever hip people call it nowadays), my logic suggests that this look actually would represent my choices and values. And so, my (extremely influential) irrational fears of everything and anything result in a decision not to care at all - because "what if people were to think that I actually find it important how others look, and that I must be a superficial bitch??"...
Now, obviously, one fault in this logic is that the majority of people don't think like that, and therefore would not read that much into e.g. my outfit. (I mean, we're all subconsciously prejudice about people's looks and the implications of these, but those judgments are also somewhat individual since they are at least partly based on previous experiences. So it is quite impossible to predict a given stranger's judgment of me and my appearance.)
And then of course; the most important things I need to explain to myself:

1. So what if strangers think you're a superficial bitch?! Doesn't matter.
2. It does not need to be such a big deal! It's just an outfit or an eye shadow or whatever!! It's just for fun. Harmless fun. Just like Harry Potter! It may not be the purpose of life, but it is fun/interesting/helpful/something!
Over-rationalizing everything leads to pointlessness (and perhaps insanity) since all of your logic essentially is based on one thing: THERE IS NO OVERALL PURPOSE. In the end, this means that even logic is useless, and suddenly nothing is rational, and everything you think you are and know is pointless, and it all becomes one huge paradox.
So, yeah... Don't go there. Just enjoy as many parts of life as possible.
Basically. If  (for some very odd reason) you want to wear a gigantic purple bird in your hair, just do so!
 - As long as it's not a live one that might fly off and attack a stranger. Or something. Yeah

Naturally, with my obsessive personality and habits, I have turned these thoughts into a giant project; wanting to get better at having fun being me - without worrying about what others read into my behavior. And who knows, in the long run it might make me better at making all those general decisions I'm always afraid of making (i.e. any decisions)...
I am already finding this new "appearance approach" very liberating in so many ways, but that is brain vomit for another time.
I think, overall, the biggest change in my outlook is this: I used to think that people who put money and effort into their appearance did it for others. However, now I actually get what people mean when they talk about doing this for yourself and as an outlet for creativity. I honestly thought that kinda talk was pure bullcrap. So yes, if you think this all sounds like exactly that - bullcrap - I totally get why that is.

Anyways, as always, this long rant about fear has the usual point: Life is what I make it.

See!! I've got style!