5 Places on the Internet to Subdue Unwanted Feelings

When you find yourself in a state of mind where the thought of getting up and facing the world as a confident individual seems near to impossible, the internet acts as a way to tolerate human society from a safe distance and indulge in a sometimes more than necessary bout of isolation.

Here are only 5 (of the endless list of) places which exist on the internet to gently help you in your time of distraction.

ROOKIE

Rookie is an online magazine founded by the infamous Tavi Gevinson (her fashion blog has been around since 2008). There's all kinds of scrumptious articles and stories and poetry and photography and DIYs and playlists to get lost in. I love this site to pieces. A quick pick of recent favourites: 

Tokyo Drift: Photo diary from time spent in Tokyo.

Overnight: A really simple but ridiculously sweet short story about a girl who's unsure of nighttime etiquette and has a lovely chat with a stoner.

Secret Sharers: A group of people divulge secrets about various things such as old films, abandoned New York subway stations and the acquiring of free doughnuts.

(Emma Dajska does collages for some of the articles. I'm in love with almost everything she produces with her mind and hands.)

trntbl.me

On this site you can listen to all the music someone has ever posted on their tumblr blog. This is a great way of (re)discovering (old/)new music.

Polyvore

When I was about twelve years old I used to literally spend hours on this site. You can make collages with images users have saved from all over the internet (mostly clothes) and create outfits and stories and pretty pictures you can look back on later and ask yourself when you ever had time to create such goodies. Although this site isn't some kind of secret, I feel like it's often put to one side in favour of trawling through tumblr dashboards and wistfully scrolling through lookbook.nu.

The Student Room

This is of interest if you, like me, are suddenly confronted with the petrifying imminence of possible higher education and you, like me, seem to know next to nothing about everything.

Very useful if you, like me, are basically set on going on an adventure on your own to somewhere in the United Kingdom, where salty sea and Media and Communication courses, Topshop, concerts and fellow students await in abundance. 

I have however been avoiding this website for the past week as it has been filling me with equal amounts of anticipation and fear, which proves to be quite distracting when attempting to successfully complete the remainder of your senior year.

YouTube

You already know that this website is basically boredom's cheeky affair. You will undoubtedly find yourself in this wonderland of moving images if all attempts at subduing unwanted thoughts and or boredom have failed you.

An endless array of options are laid in front of you: You could get lost in a string of pet videos, or find yourself swimming in a never-ending supply of music, and chances are you may in fact end up watching a video of a selection of people yawning.

When these finally few weeks of school are over, my mind will be so much more capable of dedicating time to this minuscule dot in the internet-verse.

When all else fails, always, always go for Morrissey and wait.

Failed Cheesecake or Do it Yourself

Today I baked a delicious looking cheesecake, complete with enticing digestive biscuit base. Upon opening the oven however I remembered suddenly, that I had forgotten to add 200g of caster sugar to the mixture. I ate three digestive biscuits and threw the cake in the bin. Feel free to apply your own metaphor for anything here.

I spent my Easter weekend painting my bed and an old mirror white. It was satisfying but took (much) longer than expected. And although I locked Carl out when I started painting he has been wandering around with white spots on his back for a few days now.

Before. My mum DIYed the cover for the piano stool. This is one of the countless reasons I love her.

Masking tape. Now imagine me taking this photograph, it suddenly seems oddly ridiculous, right.

Moving, conscious, black furry thing which will remain celibate for life, called Carl.

After. It's one thing to have all these ideas in your head and another to cover your bedroom floor in newspaper and spend two days coating an ancient Ikea metal bed frame in paint. 

Also, I finally watched Perks of Being a Wallflower today. I read the book ages ago and remember not expecting it to affect me like it did. I also remember crying at the end and being dubious about the possible movie adaption.

But I really enjoyed it.

After gossiping for about two hours on my bed, a friend with excellent taste and I watched 201mins of Stephen Chbosky's creation which left me with the same warm feeling as the book. I can't find the right adjectives and nouns and verbs to string together in order to describe the book or the film, but I just hope that people in the future will read the book or failing that, watch the adaptation and feel something.

Also, I was pleasantly surprised by my realisation that Ezra Miller is more than mildly attractive.

(In German, the film is called 'Vielleicht lieber morgen' which translates roughly as: 'Perhaps tomorrow (is/will be/could be) better'. I have just realised how difficult it is to translate those three words. Nevertheless, I had to point out how amusing I find it and wonder how many people decided that that was in fact, the best possible translation of the movie title. How about 'Die Vorteile eines Mauerblümchens' which translates roughly as: 'The Perks of Being a Wallflower'.)

Ezra Miller x Terry Richardson

Playlist if you fancy.

• French Kiss - The Teenagers
• Midnight City - The Knocks ft. Mandy Lee
• Lights (Shook Remix) - Ellie Goulding
• Second Chance - Peter, Bjorn and John
• We drink on the Job - Earlimart
• Sans Soleil - Miike Snow (live)
• The Walk - Mayer Hawthorne ft. Rizzle Kicks

Abitur, Alcoholic Apathy

It's often never that obvious when a new phase of your life begins. It comes slowly, and you're only really aware of it when you look back and realise you don't dream about being sixteen anymore.
Over a week ago I completed the written part of the final examinations in Germany. That period of life before, where every thought you had somehow concluded with the massiveness of the approaching exams, seems like long enough ago now to write about it with a sense of distance.
During that time, nothing felt right if it did not in some way contribute to preparing for three four-hour long exams, where one was expected to vomit words and numbers with brilliant clarity in order to prove oneself worthy of higher education.
Everything that was not related to that felt secondary; emptying the dishwasher for example felt like an impossible task, existing perhaps only in an attempt to distract you from the almost grotesque determination one had developed in the hopes of achieving results to be proud of.
Suddenly, we were sitting in classrooms writing.
And suddenly time was up.
And suddenly we handed in stacks of paper filled with ink that meant 'education'-
And suddenly it was over and I experienced the most intense feeling of relief I could have imagined.

What ensued of course was a group of adolescents soaking up the glorious atmosphere and also, generous amounts of toxic beverages.
Whilst initially rewarding and enjoyable, after a week I felt I had had enough and found myself suddenly alone with thoughts I had previously put to one side in favour of Faust, Woyzeck, multiculturalism in Great Britain and exponential functions.

In my last entry I already touched on the topic of night life, but it seems only presently relevant to explore further the concept of drink and dark smokey rooms where words mean little and accentuated curves mean much more.
Alcohol loosens you up. As do other substances. Suddenly, everyone is approachable, you don't think twice about saying exactly what's on your mind and a feeling spreads through your limbs as though they have just been untied. But you couldn't tie your laces. And after enough alcohol, you can't tie your words together properly anymore either.
Being reasonably sober within a group of aqquaintances under the influence is comparable maybe to mediocre music at a band's concert who you vaguely appreciate. It's doable, it could be fun, but there is something missing and you know you are not helping yourself, nor achieving much, by being there.

A couple of nights ago, I found myself at a cafe cross club I had never been to before, joining a queue of nonchalant faced boys dressed in slouchy beanies, casual leg-hugging jeans, and every variation of Nike or New Balance sneakers known to man.
The amount of alcohol coursing through my body was next to none and as we stood in the freezing cold, I longed to be inside, or be at home.
Paying five euros entry allowed you to enjoy the fabulous interior of the front parlour, complete with stained white walls and a bare mattress, embellished with three young individuals in black hoodies, sharing a bottle of what appeared to be wine.
Further along, past the group I would like to call the mattress lovers, was a cramped darkened room, projecting electronic tunes, which probably took hours to make and only seconds to forget.
Most of the people milling about were too cool to smile and I felt my mouth forming a tight line too as I suddenly realised I would prefer to be outside in the freezing cold again.
I have come to the conclusion, after numerous discussions with myself and those around me, that places like these are not bearable if you begin to think about them. If you begin to dissect why you are there, whether it is defined as pleasurable to people your age, whether this is really one of life's finer moments etcetera, you simply will not be able to enjoy it.
It seems simple, but my incapability to not think about the situation resulted in me deciding to leave early, albeit with little regret.
And yet it remains part of you, as even as I type, a circular ink stain on my right hand reminds me of the mattress lovers and intoxicated individuals whose thoughts I would love to hear.

Keep You - Wild Belle from ItsGutz on Vimeo.

Silver and Gold and Feet and Hips

In German one uses the verb 'feiern' (to celebrate something) when referring to 'clubbing'. This in itself, is a mysterium I have pondered occasionally by myself. Imagine saying in english: 'You going out celebrating tonight?' when in actual fact you mean: 'You going to intoxicate yourself and dance for hours to mediocre music dodging perverse lonely unsatisfied men tonight?'
I've always thought 'going out clubbing' or 'going out for a night in the town' sounds vaguely off and the German language has found a decent way of avoiding this terminological problem by simply implying that on these seemingly endless Friday and Saturday nights, one goes out to celebrate something lovely, perhaps even your existence on this spinning globe. It seems so paradoxical and absurd, because I know many individuals who in actual fact want o forget what happens during the hours where the sun is up and consign their ever present feeling of depersonalisation to oblivion by becoming one of the many silhouettes in a dark and crowded room with flashy lights and loud rhythms. Of course that's just a conclusion I have drawn from my ongoing observations.
Conversely, it is of course possible to enjoy yourself dancing and forgetting, but I increasingly have the impression it is an excuse for people to try not to try to be cool, minimalistic hip thrusts and exaggerated arm extensions and alcohol consumption.
If only there had been good music last night, because I definitely was not feeling the electronic remixes of 90's Hip Hop.

A small insight into my views on adolescent topics. I could say so much but I'm saving that for when the disconnected thoughts in my head can form to firm opinions.

 This building really took my fancy.

Junk shop find. Old Fujifilm Instax.

 Me

 Applying a mask

 Berlin & Ikea

The Bird And The Bee "Again and Again" from Miky Wolf on Vimeo.

Jürgen Drews

So basically Annika and I decided to go to Berlin over New Years. We slept in this flat bordering on Kreuzberg, inhabited by fashion student and journalist Paul who should become a poster boy for 'Berlin-Hipster' with his MacBook and impeccable beard. Record players and stacks of independent magazines surrounded us. Beautiful Kate Moss graced the kitchen from above. Personally, my favourite item was Paul's tote bag which boasted a black triangle (oh the irony is almost painful). Paul was barely even there, instead whizzing about socialising with his stylist friends, so and we had his minimistically decorated space all to ourselves.

Three songs: Bloc Party, Kreuzberg, The Cribs, City of Bugs and REM, ÜBerlin .

 

We spent most of our time drinking coffee (Liebling was my favourite place) and walking around admiring the finely dressed specimen parading the grey streets. On New Years Eve we went to this amazing place called Rosi's. We walked straight past when we were looking for it because from the outside it looked like a disused prison/building site. Upon entering though, tasteful music kissed our ears and we were treated to free sect and doughnuts. We kind of missed exactly 00:00 because we were busy chatting in beautiful vintage sofas, more than happy that we had picked the right pace to come. 

Also, we may or may not have made more than one visit to The Sixties American Diner.

I can't wait to go to in the summer. 

We also took heaps of pics with disposable cameras which will surely find their way here soon.

Another Filler

It takes more than physical movements (bones, muscles, nerves, neurons, atoms, ...) to arrive at specific points in life.
The past few months have been long.

Here are some photographs to keep this white blank page entertained.
I went to Vienna in October. It's nearly Christmas now, which is somehow very relevant in the occident world.

 Johanna's hair, sunlight and self-made ear jewelry.

Altered Vienna 

 

Intermission

The seasons have changed almost too smoothly. Too many other things have changed not very smoothly at all.
It took me several long minutes to write that sentence, because it seems almost comical to stuff everything that has happened in 20 words.

Nevertheless everything carries on. Drinking coffee every morning, getting up every day, etcetera.