New Year, New Ways

So it’s been a little over two years since I last wrote. Since then I’ve gotten a BA in English and moved from Sweden to England. The only thing familiar about the place I’m now writing, as compared to the place I used to write my blog, is my trusty old laptop Collin. He’s a massive HP “Dragon” from 2008, and he’s now lived with me in 3 countries, and throughout the life-time of this blog. He’s seen me write about random things, attempt to find some sort of topic, and eventually quit writing for two years. He’s used to me changing things around by now. He doesn’t care. He’s got his quirks, and I’ve got mine. He doesn’t care about the new things in my life, as long as he gets to develop wholly new and interesting issues that I have to work my way around if I want to use him. What do I want? He’s getting on a bit, after all.

The newest thing in my life is Twitter. My husband has been quite a bit more active on Twitter for quite a bit longer than me, but I have this tendency to obsess about something when I’ve just found out about it, only to completely neglect it and forget about it a few months later. (This does not apply to my husband, or salt-liquorice). The problem with Twitter, and the wonderful thing about it, is how very little you get to say in response to people. I find myself constantly itching to say enough, to say what I really want to say, to explain, but there is just no way, and I’m not going to write 6 tweets in succession, I’m just not!  So instead I thought; let’s breathe some life into the old blog, and then I can just link people to what I want to say.

Another thing my husband has introduced me to is speaking my mind when I disagree with people. I used to be that one person in the room who’d just stay silent and hope no-one looked my way if I didn’t completely agree with what was being said. I hate confrontation. I have stressful dreams where people refuse to talk to me because we have fallen out. I have stressful waking moments when people refuse to talk to me because we have fallen out. When two people I love are fighting I want to throw myself on top of pointy things. But my husband can also tell just how much it’s killing me to hold those opinions and thoughts in. And over time, this has cultivated a tiny warrior in me, about as scary as a chihuahua with a limp, but just as ferocious. She comes out when people are sexist. When people are racist. When people are trying to be religious at me. When people explain how this pseudo-scientific cr*p they believe in actually works. When people are being hypocritical, and using religion, feminism, or anti-racism as an excuse for being sexist and racist themselves. She barks and hops about on her three legs until I just have to say something, in the politest way possible, but still something.

So thanks to my husband, and Twitter, I now finally have a topic (or three). Collin, sorry if I don’t stick to these in the future. Not that you care.

 

Feminism

To me, feminism is a very exciting minefield. I get outraged by chauvinist a**holes, that according to me create exactly the kind of radical, regressive feminism there is so much of on social media forums nowadays. And in turn, these radical, regressive feminists create more chauvinist a**holes. Somewhere in the middle we have people like David Rubin and Christina Hoff Sommers, who just want everybody to be treated equally, and to have a good time while we’re at it. Problem is, when you hold that middle-ground, you end up being fired at from both sides. So I’ll be fired at from both sides. I’m an equity feminist: it means I believe that all people, men, women, transgender, anything else that I can’t think of, should be treated equally. It means I think we’re all different, and we should celebrate those differences rather than try to erase them. It means that I think radical, regressive feminists are feminism’s own worst enemy. It means that I will write about what I do, and what I think, in the struggle for equality.

 

Religion

It was only a few years ago that I gave up that last shred of superstition, the Chinese Horoscope, and became what I generally label as “atheist.” Thanks to a well-put question from my (then-to-be)husband: “Why do you believe in the Eastern Horoscope, when you think the Western Horoscope is ridiculous?”, and later watching Derren Brown’s “Trick of the Mind” in which he demonstrates how generalised horoscopes really are, I finally let that go. (If you still believe in horoscopes or tarot-cards or things like that, here’s the first half of that demonstration: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jDlkl78Yf-8). I still tell myself off when I catch myself going “So what would that make them, a Tiger…” but I am getting better at catching myself out whenever I’m about to submit to a superstitious belief again. I think religion is never a good thing. Ever. I think anything that can cause people to kill other people, or specifically, parents to let their own children die because they believe in “the power of prayer” is an awful, destructive thing. Which leads me to my third topic.

 

Pseudoscience

I grew up with parents who subscribe to various pseudo-scientific, alternative, “medical” theories. I’ve been subjected to acupuncture, kinesiology, homeopathy, chiropractors, something weird to do with brain-scans and past lives, I was never vaccinated against anything, I’ve had to eat müsli with tea made from bark, take 10 pills a day, have a gluten-free diet… The list goes on and on. I think what still weirds me out the most is how my parents took me to a homeopathic clinic when I had double-sided pneumonia at 9, and then took me back home and put wraps full of yoghurt on my chest for a month. Instead of antibiotics, which would actually have done something. I remember watching the very thin, frail version of myself in the mirror, and being afraid I would die. I don’t understand why anyone would make the 9-year-old daughter suffer through a month of coughing and fevers and fear when there are alternatives. But to people who believe in pseudoscience, they were doing the right thing. Conventional medicine is evil. Well, here are two – of the many – things I’d like to say to you: it wouldn’t be called “alternative” medicine if it worked, it would be called medicine. Also, read Ben Goldacre’s “Bad Science.” Before you say how he’s being paid off by the evil, mythological “Big Pharma”, he has also written “Bad Pharma: How drug companies mislead doctors and harm patients,” so brrrrlllffft.

Radical, regressive feminism, religion, and pseudoscience are things I’m constantly bombarded with on my Facebook feed. I’m also confronted with a lot of narrow-mindedness in the opposite direction, at work, or at various social gatherings. But I want to finally talk about it, and talk about the issues I see, and what happens when I dare to confront them. Join me for the ride in my next blog-post.

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New Is Always Better

I know that I always say “this occurred to me the other day” or “something that has been bothering me for a while” and stuff like that. Well. This one just kind of slid in there. It hasn’t really bothered me, and it didn’t come to me in a flash of lightning with halos or Bach music. It gently settled in my brain and would not let go until I wrote it out. The reason this one itches in my brain is because I am wondering if it is true, or if I am merely tagging on to the “it was different back then” band-wagon of the people who think that “things are only getting worse all the TIME and the universe is going to implode REALLY REALLY SOON!”  I don’t know, because usually, my ball is never in that court. (Or rather, if I owned a ball, it wouldn’t be). I tend to think that little has changed about mankind over the last thousand or so years, and little will change. It does make sense, however, that with technological change and “improvement”, something will change in the way humans think and feel, and the greatest change I have perceived is this: new is always better. 

If you are awesome, like me, you will recognise this quote from How I Met Your Mother‘s Barney. Though he does little to give the argument credibility, we do our best to preserve its validity. There was a time when the older something was the more valuable. When the fact that you had had a bag for 10 years meant it was good quality and you should be proud, but it now means that you are stingy/un-hip/”poor you! you can’t afford a new bag!” Huh. Wait. Why is new always better?

I believe that I mentioned a similar issue in a blogpost not too long ago. Since it is so easy to find those “other fish in the sea”, people are not so wary about breaking up any more. There must be a switch somewhere in the back of our heads going “So this person you’re with… you love them very much, they’re alright, no real problems… but we’re just not as excited any more! The sex isn’t as great, we don’t talk as often, or as much, we’ve just lost it. Hey, who’s that hottie?” (I will concur that “hottie” is probably not a word that people use during an internal monologue, but you get my point). So we keep going, from new partner to new partner, because new is always better. It is exciting, it is different, we can go through all those tingly first feelings again, and think that this time, we are actually really in love… until it happens all over again.

So as we sit there, longing for the newest tv-series, the new iPhone, that organic cotton-rug from Madagascar, the solar-powered spaghetti-machine from Japan… As we worry about being able to afford a whole new wardrobe for the summer so people won’t see us wearing the same stuff, and what our next shade of dark-brown hair-dye is going to look like compared to the one we’ve got (I’m sorry, no-one will notice. Trust me. I’ve been there), and if the guy across the street has more abs than the guy next door so maybe we should focus our flirtations on him instead… do we question our reasoning? What is the logic behind this “new is always better” stuff?

My theory is that we are constantly stuck in an “upgrade in progress” loop, where we believe that we are improving ourselves and our lives through this new stuff. We are so busy admiring that thing we don’t have yet that we fail to notice all the things we DO have that we used to feel that way about. We get something new, and a week or two later, we rage about how inadequate it is, and start looking for what we should have gotten instead, and will certainly save up for. We notice all the ways that the thing we wanted didn’t meet our expectations, and firmly believe that there is something shiny out there that will, we just have to keep looking.

Aha. That must be why we are still looking. Because there obviously is, you just haven’t found it yet.

If you get tired at some point though, maybe you can re-evaluate what you are ACTUALLY looking for, as you huff and puff, flat out on the floor. My bet is that a) you already have it, b) your expectations are set too high, so stop watching all those Disney-movies and start looking at what life is actually like, or c) OK, so maybe this thing or person is out there, and they are real, and they are flawless and you’ll never ever get tired of them or bored because life will be all rosy and perfect if you find them… If you feel that way, by all means, keep looking. You may be right. In the meantime, I shall sit here with my broken, worn down things, and be extremely happy over having them. Partially because I see all these people around me being so frustrated with their new, shiny things that aren’t what they expected. And partially because I know I won’t find peace over the next hill, if I can’t find it right where I’m sitting. There is only one thing that getting something new will give you, and that is a guarantee: something new.

Turn-about is… fair play?

For thousands upon thousands of years, humans have perfected the art of suppressing, using, abusing, manipulating, taking advantage of, milking, sucking the life out of, making fun of, stealing, reaping, raping, mocking, hunting… just about everything. Ore from the earth, wood from trees, life from other animals, and most certainly, ourselves. We have refined this art: now we can pollute with ease, extract with skill, lie with expertise and shake the hands of our enemies as we put them in prison for years to come. The strangest of all these urges is that to belittle others. We can see it today, and have seen it in famous historical examples; mainly slavery and the suppression of women.

Due to these centuries of taking other people hostage and agreeing that women are not good for anything but childbirth and, perhaps, cooking, a new group of people has arisen among the masses. A group which is hated, mocked and scorned by all, a group which is rapidly losing their honour, and, through merely being born into this group, you will automatically be on the top list of “evil human beings” for the rest of your life: wealthy white men.

“Gasp!” you say. “How can you speak of them as ill treated?” you say. “They are no better than criminals!” you say. “They deserve what is coming to them!” you say. “They are all selfish, competitive, raping, racist bastards!” you say. Aha. So by virtue of being a wealthy, white man, you immediately become all of these things. I see. That is by no means racist, by no means judging someone  by their income, or sex. Not at all. Because if you were born with the upper hand, you deserve what is coming to you.

When did this happen? I guess it has always been this way. In previous societies, certain things were openly strived for, openly admired, but in a modern world, thirsty for what is fair, quirky, different and therefore better than mainstream, the things that used to be good are now despicable. Virtue? We want sexual freedom for all. Money? We should get rid of it and all live in harmony, trading services. Power? Power only ever leads to corruption.

In a million ways, I agree. And yet. How is it fair that a comedian who is African-American, Jewish, Indian, Chinese or [insert ethnic group that is not classed as “white” here] can make the most racist jokes and remarks about any other group… because they are not “white”? How is it fair that female comedians can rant about the shortcomings of men for hours, and this brings the house down… but if a man makes a single joke about a woman, this is sexist? When did “turn the other cheek” and “do unto others” become “do as others have done previously because you can because revenge is justice, at least if taken by what has been a weaker party”? (I love Russel Peters, by the way. He’s hilarious. My point is, if he gets to make racist jokes, so should everyone else).

I am not saying there have not been some terrible acts of injustice throughout history, or that there are none today. I am not saying that wealthy, powerful white men do not have an awful lot coming to them… as long as the person in question is a chauvinistic, selfish, racist arse. But I am fighting for that other guy. The father who is deemed worthless because he didn’t “have to carry the baby for nine months”. The young man who is a “slob who lives in his parents basements and just plays video-games all the time”. The boy in the hoodie on the street who is “bad seed”. The husband who is inconsiderate because he doesn’t “take me out” or “talk for hours like we used to” or “bring me flowers anymore”. ANY man who isn’t “good enough in bed”.

Shame on us. Shame on the sex that asks for all the benefits, but none of the responsibility. That father might well have wished to be able to carry that child for nine months, but was not able to, due to his physiology. A woman can go to a sperm-bank and become a single mother, but a man could never get this chance, because he is unable to carry a child. That young man may be no worse than a young woman living with her parents, but because she spends her time writing a blog, scrap-booking, painting her toe-nails and talking to her friends on the phone, she is somehow better, a good girl, a virtuous, productive young woman who is simply taking her time to make her choices in life. And the hoodie. All the hoodie is is a light jacket with a piece of cloth attached to the top. Wow. Are we really going to pass someone off as a dangerous criminal, a junkie, a nobody because they choose to wear this garment? That husband, why is it always his job to bring flowers, book a table, start a conversation? What husband complains about his wife “neglecting the romance” in their marriage? But above and beyond all; when did it become the man’s job to make sure that a) you have the best sex of your life every time you do anything at all and b) he has the best sex of his life, because you shouldn’t have to lift a finger to please him?

Why do we stand there, jeering at these “worthless, selfish, sloppy, slow, overrated MEN”, expecting them to do everything for us, and yet claiming to be self-sufficient and strong? They have to start doing dishes and cooking, but we don’t have to put up a shelf or mow the lawn. They should be home more with the children, so that we can pursue our career… if we want to. Preferably, they should bring in the money AND take care of the children, so we can go off and take art-courses and long vacations, because being mothers and wives and poorly treated women entitles us to do nothing and get pampered.

Yes, things that have been done to, and are still being done to, women are absolutely AWFUL. Suppression in physical, mental and emotional ways is an everyday occurrence in many countries. But why should a generation of men who are learning much from their mothers, from a time when liberation of women and equality is on a constant rise, have to suffer the most for the actions of their fathers and grandfathers? Should the Germans of today be punished for Hitler’s actions? Should all the white Americans be shipped out of the U.S, because their forefathers took the land of Native Americans, and it is rightfully theirs, so piss off? And if we should all have to bear the consequences of our forefathers actions, and take the punishment for their mistakes and cruelty, how far back do we go? Homo sapiens were responsible for the genocide of the Neanderthal. Should we all be killed for that?

Inequality is shit. Suppression is horrible, slavery is inexcusable and chauvinism is just plain stupid. These things have existed, and do exist. It is something we should always strive to get away from, something we should always fight to stop. But fighting fire with fire has never been effective. Attacking men for their fathers’ actions is not going to make those actions go away, it is simply creating a new group of suppressed people. If we want equality, we are going to have to start treating everyone as an equal. EVERYONE. Even the pariah of today, the wealthy, white man.

Monsatan… Monsanta… Monsanto

I’m sure none of us have done ANYTHING on our computers the last few months without reading the word “Monsanto” amongst things like “super-duper-evil”, “worse than Hitler”, “OMG! I can’t believe how terrible these people are!”, “Boycott them or die!” and so forth. Yes. I can no longer log onto facebook without the majority of my friends having posted something about how this terribly nasty, BIG corporation (you know how them being big and making money means they are evil, right?) is taking over the world one grain at a time. If you have managed to miss this, good for you.

Because this Monsanto-fever is giving rise to something else, something which has killed an awful lot of people over thousands of years. Wherever it has reared its ugly head, people drop like flies. This little something, I like to call: self-righteousness.

Yes indeed. That thing that makes a person walk up to someone and tell them how despicable they are because they haven’t made the same life-choices. How selfish they are for drinking bottled water. What a terrible pregnant mother they are for eating a single Dorito. How can they live with themselves, these terrible people who don’t walk to work, or don’t grow their own organic veggies, or don’t breastfeed their children till they’re 3-years-old?

A deep, glowing belief that your way of life is the only right and the only GOOD way is what has led to a great many “events” in world history: The Crusades, the Spanish Inquisition, The Russian Revolution and the Holocaust, to name a few. It would not surprise me if the mind-numbing sharing and reposting of things like this, this and this soon turn into “demonstration” in the form of throwing stones, bombs, graffiti etc. Perhaps some nice anti-GMO person will start shooting Monsanto hot-shots, because for some reason they think this will make the world a better place.

But hang on. The same people who are so against what Monsanto are doing today, aren’t those the ones who wanted to… what was it again… oh yes, end world hunger. Because that is the main reason for GMO in the first place! Creating enough resilient, hefty crops, that give farmers in third-world countries food and an income? Or, all these self-righteous, angry, first-world people can go the f*** down to Africa and India and into China and start helping the farmers for free, swatting bugs to avoid pesticides, farming acre upon acre of land without heavy machinery… no, but it is so much easier to just shout at some common scape-goat than to actually do something to fix the situation.

This is what Monsanto’s home-page looks like:

Monsanta 

(The morning of the 13th of June, it took me forever to get to their homepage. It would not load. Is it possible that some well-meaning anti-GMO activist feels that Monsanto are so big and evil they do not deserve a website, or to tell their side of the story?)

This is what one of the thousands of “Monsanto is the evil of the world and the spawn of Satan” web-pages looks like:

Monsatan

(Interestingly enough, the BBC are now “biased” because they made a “pro-GMO” documentary. Up until now, the BBC have been professional, the best in the biz, world-famous for their unbiased reporting.  But if they do not agree with such a large group of people, who are well-informed of who Monsanto really are, thanks to reposting stuff on facebook, they must now have turned to the dark side. I don’t blame them. We have cookies.)

And this is what good ol’ neutral Wikipedia has to say on the matter:

Monsanto

One great problem is that people continue to share these things, huffing, puffing, gasping and frowning at the audacity of this company’s actions, without actually trying to find anything out for themselves. If they do, they go to “reliable” websites, with words like “green“, “organic“, “natural” etc. in the name. Because if it says Monsanto is evil, it must be true.

I am not saying anything either way. I know that by now, I would have to read for a week straight to get any unbiased information about this company. I know that even if I did, I could not convince its supporters that it is evil, nor its opponents that it is good. Because people see what they want to see, no matter what is actually there. But I still believe that self-righteousness is a much greater killer than any evil corporation ever has been. So far.

Ask why

An acquaintance of mine and her boyfriend recently broke up. I asked her why and she answered “That’s just how it is sometimes, I guess”.

This led me back to a train of thought that I’ve been stuck on of late. The relationship today, and why it has turned into what it is. The shrug and the “other fish in the sea” attitude which people often have around break-ups nowadays. The disinterest in finding out why it fell apart. The ease with which we can shut people out, because we don’t all live in the same tiny village and have to see each other every day.

Is it that simple? Because we are so many, living in massive heaps of human upon human, we can abandon our partner, a person we have shared every intimate ounce of our lives with for years, and go find someone else to do it all over with? Really?

And why would you not question, why would you say “I guess that’s just the way it is sometimes” and shrug and give up? If you have been with that person for several years, there must be a reason beyond “it was convenient” or “we had sex and then we kept dating”? No?

The hopeful romantic in me wants to shout and ask people to fight, to stop and ask themselves what they saw in that person when they first met them, whether that was a construct of wishful thinking or a real quality, and if so, is it still there? Why is that not so important anymore? Why does taking something for granted immediately make it a negative, in a sense, something which is forgotten and discarded behind all the habits that all of a sudden become so annoying and impossible to live with?

It’s as if people don’t need to think anymore because we can just run away; defriend, delete pictures, block phone-number, change lock and ask your friends if he’s going to be there before you go to the party. Oh, it’s not an easy process in the slightest, but it’s probably a hell of a lot more comfortable than having to face that person and have some form of conversation with them about the reasons it didn’t work out, and the reasons why it should have.

The hopeful romantic in me cannot believe that all the things you loved in a person have certainly magically disappeared. The hopeful romantic in me knows that if it was worth getting into in the first place, it’s worth fighting for. The hopeful romantic in me knows that unless you hate the person for some reason, or it turns out your values differ greatly in the fields of politics, religion, upbringing of children, drug-use or something equally serious, there will probably be a way to find common ground, compromise, forgive and live with each other again.

But no. No say the people of today. We are many, we are young, we have a friend-list of 1000 people to pick from, because hey, we can be bi if we want to. We have longer life-expentancy, so more time to screw up and keep screwing up.

Fine. You do that. I am going to keep loving the man I am with madly, for all the reasons I fell in love with him in the first place, and never let myself forget. Because when you have found something and someone worth fighting for, you do not let go. Under any circumstances. You do not shrug and turn away. You ask why.

One Wedding and No Funeral

Yes. It has been almost a year. I know. I’m shocked to see that there are occasionally people still checking in here, almost every day! I do not have a long, elaborate explanation as for why I haven’t written. Life happened.

 

Last time I wrote, my oldest brother and his fiance had just had a little boy. He is now about 8 months old, and a proper person, but a lot smaller than most of us. It’s my job to talk English to him, so he grows up knowing several languages. I have no problem with that. Well, not just my job, mine and my fiance’s.

 

Oh yeah. Remember that amazing person I mentioned frequently back when I was still blogging, last year? We’re engaged to be married this summer. It’s rare, not only in it being my first, last and only marriage to anyone, but also in it being a full-blown WordPress wedding. Oh yeah. Do you remember how he was a blogger and we met through WordPress? Well, he’s still a blogger, he’s been a lot more active than me over the last year, and right now he’s working on some exciting updates to his page. It just so happens that his 2 year bloggoversary falls on the 17th this month, so give him a wordpressent by visiting him a lot! It will be fun, because the changes are happening gradually.

 

What else? Last time I wrote, I was still finishing up courses to get into university. Well, I did a summer course on “Visual and Material Objects”. Does it sound complicated, pretentious, weird? It probably was all of those things, but I enjoyed it immensely. My – occasionally – overly analytical brain thoroughly enjoyed picking apart and decoding images and various forms of art. I feel like I have had good use for it in my current field of study; English. I did English all of last fall, and now all of this spring, and then I will spend all of this summer planning our wedding.

 

So the one wedding should be fairly obvious by now. Best get to the second part before you claw my eyes out.

 

A wonderful, beautiful person in this world has died. Sierra, a girl that I have known since I was 16, and whose blog I actually linked to once or twice, chose not to live any longer, and I have to deal with that over Christmas. I was not angry with her – though I have the feeling that her relatives were, because they did not have a funeral –  I was just sad that she was so sad that she could not carry on anymore. Sierra had a wonderful sense of humour, was very caring, hated conflict, drank like a champion, rocked short hair, gave the best of hugs, doted on Audrey Hepburn and could not stop smoking. I love her to bits and pieces. I still feel tears welling up when I think of her “too closely”, but at the same time I am grateful for having known her, and happy for her that she doesn’t have to be as unhappy as she was anymore. Ironically, her last blogpost is titled “the queen is dead”, and the last thing she wrote in a book we sent back and forth, like a letter, was “BUMMER!”

I can’t bring myself to leave you on such a sad note. Think about all the wondrous and joyous things I will share with you this summer! I am sure to blog about the wedding and the wedding-plans, because apparently everyone does that, and I have noticed that women become absolutely obsessed with that date as it draws nigh, so I’m sure I won’t be an exception. Also, with the permission of my brother and his lovely lady, I will post a picture of the most adorable – to me, and yet – baby ever born!

One thing my English course has taught me – so far – is – besides quite a few things that I know happen to be incorrect, because my fiance is not only English, but good AT English, and most Englishmen would cry if they knew what they teach us at this university – how to write a very boring, overly complex, fancy, abstract, and to most good writers, unacceptable, text, which needs a conclusion that repeats everything you have just told people. To that end (clears throat): In short, I have studied a lot, I have a wonderful little nephew, my friend is dead and I will get married this summer to the most wonderful person I have ever met and then get to spend the rest of my life with him.

 

Write you soon.

How happy some o’er other some can be

Upon my return from the longest blackout yet in the history of this blog, I feel no remorse. My life has been busy and a blur of school, spending time with my boyfriend and friends and trying to sleep somewhere in-between the two. I do not have enough readers that there’s a riot or a global crisis when I take a break from writing, but mayhap enough that there’s a tiny spark of joy on seeing that I’ve finally posted something again.

This post shall be about happiness. Ever since I first read an excerpt from the Declaration of Independence I’ve never quite been able to get over the wording “life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness”. The pursuit of happiness. See, every human has the right to try to make themselves happy. This should give people a clue. It’s not like we’re born little bundles of joy. Sure, babies smile a lot, but they also cry at the top of their lungs a lot of the time. And sometimes there’s no telling why. Are we maybe born depressed and live our lives in the pursuit of happiness?

Maybe you wonder what triggered these strange thoughts. Well. I go to school in my decently sized but scarcely populated country’s capital city, and the other day I was making my way back from the school-grounds to the subway. I was dressed in a very plain black coat, black pants, black boots, colourful scarf. My hair a complete mess as always, but that specific day, a fashionable mess. A latte in one hand, a cigarette in the other, I cruised with my shoulder bag through the crowds. I felt at one with the city. I stopped dead in my tracks next to the subway entrance. There in my head stood the strangest question ever, bent over laughing at me in a very annoying manner: right this moment, you are the person you’ve wanted to be since you were quite the young lass. You look like you could be anyone in a crowd of thousands of other Stockholm girls like you, with slight variations. You flow through the crowds and move with the beating of this city’s rather unrythmic heart. You are she, the woman that you looked at years and years ago and somehow decided you wanted to become one day. But are you happy?

The answer was of course yes and no. Though there are times in our lives when we are absolutely over the moon, and others where we are way low, for the most part we’re pretty content, and if someone asks we can give people a list of the things that are good in our lives right next to the things that are bad. A lot of the time we put quite a big focus on the things that are not good, or not as we wish them to be rather. I bet you that if you start keeping track of how your friends respond to “how was your day?” or “what is happening in your life right now?” many of them will either start off, or quickly fall into, a long list of complaints regarding their health, co-workers, work-load, family, out-of-date cellphone, few too many pounds around the waist, too small kitchen, horrible weather… and it never ends. There will always be a million and thousand things that could be improved in our lives, and for some reason we’re really good at noticing them and then pointing them out to others. No end.

But then when you’re there, whining and bitching in your head about something really frustrating or annoying or how tired and stressed you are… you can just stop for a split second and ask yourself the classic question: What about if this is as good as it gets? Say that you, right now, are at the high point of your life. Then shouldn’t you be overjoyed over all the amazing things you have at the moment? How about the fact that you don’t have a blister on your heel, that the coffee wasn’t a dollar more expensive than it was, your mother didn’t call you a whore today, and yes, it’s raining, but it’s not hailing! For lots of people the reverse psychology of thinking about how much worse things could have been doesn’t work, but just consider, we really notice the bad things when they are present, wouldn’t it put us in a better mood if we noticed how un-present they were?

And if you’re depressed, if you find yourself constantly bitching and moaning and making the people around you cringe when you walk into a room because they know their mood is about to drop by about 30 degrees… so what? What is so wrong with not being happy all the time? It’s a bloody fact that we can’t maintain the same happiness for an extended amount of time – actual study showed that people, after having won a really big, like huge, sum from the lottery were right back at the same level of “happiness” a week after the win as they had been at before the win. This is true! -, and every single person, be they life-coach or millionaire or rock star or preschool-teacher, every single human on this earth has had, or is about to have, a bad day. But no, when there’s misery on the horizon, people run. When did sadness, anger and frustration turn into the Black Death of our time?

So kids, happiness cannot be maintained as a constant. Happiness is a bit of a rollercoaster and if you don’t like it that’s tough shit. P.S Doing E won’t help, I’m sorry. I don’t know this from personal experience but I have noticed from hours of observation that drugs wear off once you run out of them. Sorry. And if you’re feeling down, don’t be so afraid to show it. Please don’t go all emo and start cutting yourself and your bangs, because a) it looks bad on most people and b) the bathroom zink becomes a mess and you’re probably going to be too depressed to care about cleaning up yourself, so someone else will have to do it. But don’t go around trying to hide your sadness thinking people will run from you if you don’t. There is nothing wrong with not being the most energetic flying squirrel on a sugar-high around, 24/7/365,25. Because nobody is. It’s OK not to be OK.