Little ways to stop the use of single-use plastic

I sometimes stumble upon topics I am very passionate about, and this is one of them. Even though I can’t possibly get out to that many people, I still feel better once my words and advice are out there. So here you go:

  1. Use bamboo toothbrushes. They are made out of bamboo instead of plastic, and mostly the packaging isn’t plastic either.
  2. Reuse plastic bags. Wash plastic bags after use and use them again and again.
  3. Buy local foods or grow them yourself. Vegetables and fruits very often come in plastic in the supermarket, but growing them yourself or getting them locally is a way to avoid this.
  4. Never ever buy disposable dinnerware – use real plates instead.
  5. Make your own scrubs, facial cleansers or other beauty products that are relatively easy to make, and saves a lot of plastic packaging. I personally like the blog
  6. Buy clothes made out of cotton, wool or bamboo instead of plastic. Bamboo is the best, since bamboos are the fastest growing and least water-consuming plant used to make clothes. And it is so soft!

Get going, plastic doesn’t reuse itself.

Summer feels

We spent 4 days at our “summer house”, and it was something near perfect. It was nice weather and we went swimming, ate ice cream, saw the sunsets, collected stones, picked flowers, read books in our hammock and went for long walks at the beach. I also slept in a tent, and loved waking up every morning to the sound of birds chirping. Enjoy the pictures.



Will anything ever be true?

To some, this is a question too far away from reality to take even a little bit seriously. To me however, it is a daily struggle. I have discovered myself to be a true perfectionist, especially when it comes to things other people have to see. Like a blog post, or a picture on Instagram or even just my outfit. It is partially because I don’t like to get negative spotlight in any way, and because I “fear” what others might say. Though I am good at telling myself to “fuck what they think”, it doesn’t work with what they say. I am too sensitive to receive criticism without letting it bother me, and I am too introverted to enjoy it when someone wants to talk with me about a personal topic. Of course there are exceptions, and that leads me back to the title of this post: Will anything ever be completely true?

Now you have seen, that even when I try to make a rule about something as simple as if I like something or not, I can’t say anything for sure. Many days I hear people say that they “absolutely hate something” or the opposite, and it always makes me think how they do it. How can you hate or love something to the bottom of your soul? And I am not talking about people, because I realized (or accepted) long ago that this love is completely irrational and, I guess, indescribable. Love is one thing, but how come someone can absolutely hate nature, cities, children, reading, running or a certain type of food? Aren’t we just saying this because we feel like we have to say something? Someone who hates nature, will maybe like it someday if he somehow combines it with something (or someone) he loves. Same goes for loving a certain type of food – one day you might have a bad experiences or learn something new, that will change the way you taste it.

Something could be true, like completely true, right now that’s for sure. In a minute, it might not be true anymore. If this is our definition of true, that it just have to be true in this instance, then yes, there is such a thing as something completely true, real and honest. This, however, is a vague definition of a word and it sure isn’t the one you should go for if you ever want someone to trust you. You should probably not doubt everything either. We can like and dislike things, and we can change our minds. I know for myself that I am both a complete paradox and a teenager, so I think I have the right to change my mind. Really, anybody has, it’s a free world.

Because of my perfectionist nature, I do not believe this question to be answered yet and it probably never will. Though I do think this blog post is as perfect as it can be now.

My (very challenging) new years resolutions

At the moment, I tend to think of 2016 as a tough year for me. But it really wasn’t that awful, it just wasn’t living up to my expectations. I wasn’t living up to my expectations. I had great experiences, and to be real, I did things I had never imagined I could do. Such as going by myself to the other side of the globe. And I wasn’t even scared. I sometimes forget to remind myself what a huge step I took at that point. Normally, I will look back and regret all the things I didn’t do.

So. Next year I will try not to strive for perfection. I will try to lower my expectations, and applaud myself when I do well. That will be very very very hard for someone like me. I am never really satisfied, and I never really believe those who tell me I have done well.

I have many strong emotions, which is great at times. When they are good, I can get high on happiness and joy. The bad emotions on the other hand, can leave me feeling completely devastated. For some reasons, the strong emotions make me feel alive, but they also really tear me down. I surround myself with my overwhelming emotions, because I think it will make me happier. I don’t think they ever will. I should let go of them. I should be able to tell the difference between what is good and what is not.

I have had a bit of a love-hate relationship with meditation, as I do not like letting go of my thoughts. My thoughts and emotions are also the ones to give me inspiration, and I would hate to not be able to feel inspired. Inspiration can be tiring though. It is not always I have enough time to do anything about it, so it often just drains me, and makes me feel like I never do anything.

I will try to figure out where my on/off switch is in the new year. I really need it. I will accept meditation or yoga as a way of letting my thoughts go, and I will let them go. I will dive into books when my world is overwhelming and I can’t handle things. I will turn off my thoughts at night, because it really is a daily struggle to fall asleep when your mind insists on composing a story or coming up with ideas to solve all your problems. Catch me in the morning, will you?

There might be a reason why I really love the song ‘Let it go’ even though I am not really the right age-group for ‘Frozen’. I know I need to let it aaaaaaall go. And now, if you will excuse me I will jump to my yoga mat.

I don’t like small-talk, but I hate the absence of it

Being an introvert, I prefer more meaningful conversations as supposed to small-talk. Talking about something that doesn’t really matter on the long run really drains me, and this human contact seems almost unnecessary. I mean, who actually finds it interesting to know someones life story without knowing how they feel about it? That to me is like getting a lot of presents without opening them. But I guess some prefer the pretty packaging instead of the ugly sweater from grandma? Though the packaging is store-bought and the sweater is homemade. Sorry, I will not go deeper, but I think you got the point.

On the other hand, I also get absolutely freaked out when someone skips the small-talk. When they talk to you as if they had known you forever, but you actually just met. Skipping name, hometown and favorite hobbies, and going straight to biggest goal in life. Like, how do you even think someone would open up that fast? I cannot do that. It might also be because I don’t know the perfect answer to that question, which I prefer to do. I do not like to be asked something I don’t know the answer to.

I know, it doesn’t sound easy, but conversations aren’t easy. At least not to me. And if you think they are easy, it might be because you don’t really think about what you actually say. Don’t drain me with boring facts, but don’t expect me to tell you everything. Keep it to something that interests us both, without being to personal, and you might be getting me as a friend soon. One step at a time.

Yes, these are all just normal thoughts to me

This all popped into my head while I was attempting to draw. Somehow this makes more sense to me than if it was three times as long. Which is normal, I guess. Or not. Who knows. Don’t take this too seriously, if this is not your thing.

She was so quiet that she could hear, not only her own but others thoughts

How could anyone know anything about her when she did not?

The more she thought, the less sense it made

They had the best relationship. Until he found someone else, and she realized that it had never been.

Because she hated conflict, she became a problem-solver

The less they knew, the more she could surprise them

People understood what she said, but it was not what she meant


I could change the name of my blog

Well… it has been a while! It is not that I haven’t written anything, but I have deleted it all again, because it just wasn’t right. So! Now it is, and I am publishing my first blog post after I moved house. Or to say it right, after I moved from house to apartment. To be precise, I now live on 5th floor. That’s why I thought, that I totally could get away with changing the name of my blog to  “The view from fifth floor”, because moving all the way up here has definitely changed my perspective. Which is why I find it appropriate for me to even write a blog – I see things from a  different perspective than so many others. But I guess most people do that…


Anyway, moving all of my family’s crap from a quite big house to a rather small apartment was pretty strange. We have cleared out more stuff than I could ever imagine, but it has been worth it. Even though I feel like every empty space in my room has been filled with more stuff than what it actually could fit, it works. Having a smaller space and lesser stuff is good. I have come to a point, where I could take almost every little object in my room, and argue why I left it there. I guess that is good?

Clothes rack

Not only do we have less indoor space, we have also moved from a small town to the city of Copenhagen. The Copenhagen package included noise, no ventilation and loads of stairs, but it also means a roof terasse with amazing sunsets, everything just around the corner, and people everywhere. Wait. Is people everywhere really good? Nah, sometimes it is frustrating and tiring, but sometimes it is good. It is good when you crave company and conversations, or a helping hand every now and then. Which you do. Even though I catch myself complaining about the crowded streets, I also find that I grow for every day I spend in the crowd. I learn how to let them in when I want to, and shut them out if I need to.


Okay, so that was it for now, I will return with an update on the categories on the blog, where I might change a few things… Next week, I will hopefully also be posting something, as my sister and I are going to Amsterdam for a couple of days!


My happy place

In my perfect life, no such thing as money exists. There is simply me and my dreams, and absolutely no pressure not to seek them out. In that life, I would live far away. I would have collected a few dear friends, with whom I shared interests. I would bring them with me, and we would start from scratch. We would help each other chase our dreams, but never reach them because that is not what dreams are for. We would have no reason to worry but what we made ourselves, so we would do the least amount of stuff. Each of us could have our place that we loved, as well as the opportunity to change it. We would grow our own food; take care of our own bodies. We would use nature as therapy and each other for advice. We would inspire each other, but never feel superior. In a perfect world, every little detail would be in balance. Nothing would interrupt the peace, and love would exists within all of us as well as between us. There would be no need for a stream of words, while we all would know it anyway. Sudden moves would not be needed; ‘stress’ and ‘hurry’ would be foreign words.

This is where my mind wanders from time to time. To this utopia that will never be reality. It is my happy place, my biggest dream. I dare dream this dream, because dreams will have changed before they come true. Dream away out there, even if your dream scares you at first.

Why running is a cleanser and yoga is a moisturizer

Do you ever find yourself with a lot of messy thoughts? In that state of mind where you can’t focus nor remember?  I do, a lot actually. Mostly after being around lots of people, because in that case I don’t get the time I need to think things through. Most introverts can probably relate. It is at this point I either go for a run or do my yoga routine.

The days I go for a run are the days I want to get out of my head. These are the days where I have had a bad day, and want to get rid of my thoughts. Therefore, running works as a cleanser to me. It gets me out of my mind, and into my body (quote from some movie, I don’t remember). That’s why, when I run, I like to run fast. Preferably in a forest with lots of things I need to avoid, either on the ground or in the air, and a tiny path I need to concentrate on. It is all these obstacles that get me out of my mind. I don’t have time to think about anything else than what is right in front of me, and sometimes that is all you need. Running gets me down to earth, it cleanses my body and mind.

Yoga, some would also call a cleanser. I don’t really think so. I find myself getting more into my head when doing yoga, than I would otherwise. And that is not a bad thing. That just means, that instead of getting rid of my thoughts, I go through them all, and put them in the right places. Some things I need to write down, because I need it to get out but still remember it. I like to think of my brain as a library. All my thoughts are books, and yoga is when the books are placed where they belong, but also read and considered. Yoga is a moisturizer, because it is not getting rid of the bad stuff, but improving the good. It is not ending something to start something new, but simply maintaining what already is – to make sure it wont dry out.


My life is being turned upside down, I’m moving away from my home for 16 years, and this summer I will be traveling alone for six weeks. Today, a peaceful day in the middle of all these (good) changes, I felt a sting of homesickness. I missed the part of me that belongs somewhere else. That little piece of my heart I left in California before going to Denmark, six months old. Not many people think about the place I am born (or where anyone is born), and even though they might do sometimes they wouldn’t understand the feeling. It wasn’t just six months, it was my first months ever!

*Warning: getting deep*

It was the time I was given the gift of life, and that I will never forget.

(I did warn you)