Category Archives: thoughts

for when I unleash the philosopher inside me

Wishing it Were Still Now… (precognitive nostalgia?)


Dear peeps,


I have an issue that crops up now and again, maybe you can relate:

Have you ever been strolling along, enjoying life, whistling, breathing the fresh air, thinking about how perfect the world is?

No? Well, let me explain my predicament.

Imagine you had ever experienced this bliss, and then imagine that this happiness suddenly felt more like a pain which was growing ominously in your chest, until your vision became a sort of colorful blur and you stood there in the streets, in danger of being run over by a tram, panicking and not knowing which way to turn.

Now, assuming you managed to cross the street without suffering a brutal death, you wonder what on earth just happened to you. You think back to 30 seconds ago, and you realize that the problem had a very simple answer: you were too happy.

How can one even be too happy? Perhaps I should rephrase: You weren’t appreciating your happiness enough. It was physically impossible to appreciate it. It became overwhelming. You couldn’t take it all in at once, and the guilt and the pressure were just too much.

The hyperventilation is kicking in now – what if the happiness goes away and you didn’t use all of it?!!

(Use happiness? Yes, use happiness.)

What if your future is cold and bleak and your only chance to enjoy life is today, right now, or it will be WASTED FOREVER?

You realize that your only option is to intensify your appreciation, even if it seemed impossible until now; You breath deliberately, feeling the cool air fill your lungs and thinking hard about how lovely the sky, your friends, love, that pigeon over there is, oh how cute a screaming brat got ice-cream! THE WORLD IS AWESOME OMG!!!!!

The nostalgia of tomorrow is consuming your thoughts, and suddenly, you are close to tears!

Somebody release me from this hell!

And then, fried, your mind is wiped out, blank.



Am I really the only one?

Well, I suppose my point is this: Sometimes, I get really, ridiculously aware of what a huge thing it is that we are alive and active and that we get a chance to experience things on this earth, no matter how weird and sometimes horrific they are (e.g. screaming brats with ice-cream). And I believe that every once in a while, it’s healthy (to a certain degree) to stop and think about just that. It is the same reason that I don’t believe in regretting things, even if those things suck. You can dislike them, but hey, at least you did something. At least something happened to you. Absorb it and let it make you who you are.

yes, yes, i know… (suddenly wondering if i havent used this on here before). but srsly: think of all the things you could be doing instead of regretting something. what a waste of time.

This obviously isn’t a new thought.

Also, don’t overdo it. I’m pretty sure hyperventilation is actually dangerous. Just live, peeps. #peaceout





Paris is Next-Door


Dear peeps,


When something like this happens, I often get the feeling that it is indecent to even speak of it, to even assume that we could possibly understand anything so horrible, when we haven’t experienced it first-hand. Or to talk on behalf of the people who have. But it is a necessity, so I’m going to share my thoughts here, and maybe you can relate to what I have to say.

I am not very involved in politics, I don’t always keep up with world happenings. It all just seems so irrelevant to my personal life that sometimes I just can’t be bothered. I think this is very common for young people in particular. And so yesterday evening, when my class’ group chat started exploding with shock and outrage at what was happening in Paris, I didn’t even read it until this morning.

When I realized what had happened, I was beyond ashamed. I am ashamed that I could ever feel exempt from the responsibility each person has of being involved in our global community. Such apathy is entirely arrogant.

Paris is next-door to Switzerland. My class went there on a trip last year. It could have been us. It could have been our friends or family, and for all these people, it was them and their friends, their family.Displaying IMG_0976.JPG

this is my best friend and me on the eiffel tower. it only took us three hours to get to paris.

this is my best friend and me on the eiffel tower. it only took us three hours on the train to get to paris.

I watched some video footage of people running out of Bataclan, screaming, wounded, falling, dead. A man yelling out repeatedly, “Oscar!” Limping.

Who is Oscar? Is Oscar okay?

There were people hanging onto window sills for dear life. You could hear gunfire. Shouts for help.

I have never seen anything so horrifying. This wasn’t a movie, a reenacted documentary. This was real. I cried for nearly fifteen minutes. At the same time, I knew that my mom and my brother were inside the house, safe. I was texting my friends about this, so they were safe. Obviously, they were all safe. They weren’t in Paris, they weren’t even in France. But the fear was there nonetheless.

“It is a horror.”

And then I watched François Hollande’s speech, speaking of France’s strength, the injustice, how they would overcome this evil, that they would go against ISIS ruthlessly. And my sense of fear and terror turned into rage.

Those cannot be humans behind those masks! Those are monsters! This is pure evil.

I want to be able to help, but the most I can do is like and share facebook posts, change my profile picture to the French flag, and be sad and angry. Believe me, I’m happy to do that. It’s important to show support, for every person to be there for the victims of these attacks, but we should strive for more.

facebook’s movement

I started this post by mentioning indecency vs necessity, and I want to come back to that now: I have often considered the idea of becoming a journalist, and frequently, the financial prospects (and yes, the “irrelevance” – the irony of this is not lost on me) put me off it. But the helplessness I felt today made me realize that I owe it to myself and to society to be one of the people who ties us together by ensuring that people are informed, that people understand the very real happenings around them, so that we don’t lead disconnected, oblivious lives.

This isn’t meant to be a life-changing post or some sort of instruction, but it’s the impression this event has made on me, and I wanted to share it with you.

Lastly, I want to say that I am so grateful for all of my friends and family, and my heart goes out to all those who have suffered through these attacks.





Links to the main articles I read, not including the more recent updates (one is in French, but the footage is comprehensible all the same):

Le Monde

BBC News


Missing Sizes


Yello peeps,


In a bit, I will continue reading my German assignment, but because I don’t want to, I’m going to give you this little tidbit instead.

Have you ever been an unusual size in…anything?


The following situation actually happened in my home: “oh gabriel come look at these shoes on zalando! Arent they…oh crap they’re only a size 48” of course, we’re talking european sizes (a size 48 in the US might not fit through the door…) but cmon.


The struggle is frigging real. Don’t tell me you don’t know exactly what this picture means to you. Ladies. You know.

The other side of shoes…

I had a friend once who still had to wear these when she was twelve. The degradation.

Bras….(your life must be seriously difficult #onlyhalfjoking)

And…suddenly I’m wondering if this blog is child-friendly…


Yknow what, this one isn’t even that unusual, so I say: It’s time for the hair-tie manufacturers to adjust to the real world! #vivelarevolution

And we all know about the solution that can sometimes be found for problems such as these: the “one size fits all“. Obviously, this never works (as clearly demonstrated by the hair-ties and every pair of gloves ever). Really, it should be called the “one size fits nobody“.

In fact, the most well-known example which I think every single person will recognize, is…


I don’t need to explain this. I just don’t.

Damn right.

So my friend and I recently came up with the idea of “Pringles’ sizing”. I mean, imagine walking into the grocery store, and going to the counter and holding up your delicious Sour Cream n’ Onion box and going “I’m sorry, do you have this seven sizes up?”

And they would reply “Why yes, let me get that from the back, I’ll be right with you.”

All the problems would be solved.

Of course, as I write this, a more logical solution dawns upon me, and I would like to call out, in the name of the people, to all you Pringles bosses:


And now, having conveyed my message, I’m outie. #hellagangsta




Meet: Pedro


Hey peeps,


I have a friend (shocking as that may be). His name is Pedro.

Let me tell you about Pedro.

He has thin brown hair and likes to wear plaid button-ups.

it’s his favorite.

He is nearing the end of puberty, and has been attempting to grow a moustache for the past few months. #emphasisonattempting

I won’t include a picture. For reasons.

He has a crush on my other friend (my popularity is astonishing, I know), and he regularly texts her good night. Lots of emojis. She doesn’t respond. This does not appear to deter him.

Pedro’s hobbies include: long walks on the beach, Call Of Duty, and Polly Pocket.

His younger sister, Annabeth, loves horses.

She really loves horses.

like, really loves them.

Halloween is coming up very soon, and Pedro, prepared as he always is, has been planning his potential costumes for months: a banana, a genie in a lamp, or Ken.

Which one do you think would get the most females? –> comment below to help Pedro decide!

…And I have a little confession to make: I don’t have a friend (wait for it) named Pedro. I do have friends. I swear.

I just think there is probably a Pedro out there who fits this description. Sorry to any normal Pedros I may have offended.




why i am spiderman


Hi peeps,


I would like to tell you about my undying desire to be a boy.

Ok, perhaps I should rephrase this:

I wanna be Spiderman, and walk around like a boss, and be strong and save people, and I wanna be sweaty and gross and impressive and cool – I don’t want to be Mary-Jane, a damsel in distress! I mean look at her:

I’m just saying. The similarity. It is there. (I’m actually wondering if I should vote for Kristen)

I guess my point is: Girls are nevvvver the hero! And when they are, then:

k, so there are some villains here. what’s your point?

a nice cool breeze, id say

that magic stare is just immobilizing. the city is saved!

create maximum booty stretch for optimal leverage…right?

unrestricted. very practical.

I just feel like the super-femme application form must look a lot like this:

Please answer the following questions:

Bra size:

  • c
  • d
  • e
  • select here for complementary surgical enlargement

I would like to wear the following Outfit**:

  • leotard
  • cat-suit
  • nothing
  • bikini

Would you like a personal hair-stylist? (extra charges may apply)

  • yes
  • only before I meet Batman / Superman / the sexy super-villain

**Warning: Absence of permanent wedgie not guaranteed.

in fairness, I feel sorry for the guys who think they have to look like superman. please dont look like superman. don’t do the tights thing.

Basically, I wasn’t even allowed to watch Cat Woman until I was thirteen because the images were considered “too explicit”.

And so I turned my attention to more practical goals. I decided I would be Spiderman.

I dreamt of having spidey powers. I pretended to have spidey powers, I owned spidey merch (stolen from my brother), I wore spidey costumes.

That was my childhood.

I still want to be spidey.

And I’ve forgotten what I wanted to say.

Nevermind. Go web go!

nooooooo goddammit




the excitement that is couch #sniffles


Dear peeps,


I make it my goal to share as much as possible with you – too much, ideally – yet this is made challenging when days are spent blinking drousily into the stabbing sunlight, lounging lifelessly around on the sofa.

Basically, being sick is extremely exciting.

This actually happened to me once (i had a runny nose)

So instead of fascinating you with all the riveting details of my ailments, here’s a list of things to do when you’re under the weather:

1. Paint nails.


2. Watch movie. Youtube. TV series.

Be doted on by mother. Exploit her kindness.

3. Plan crafts on Pinterest.

4. Think about fun.

5. Look at yummy recipes. Don’t go in kitchen because you are contageous.

6. Stare into the abyss, listening to that buzzing noise you always hear when you’re sick.

7. Listen to country & jazz, because that doesn’t worsen the headache.

Appropriate sticker.

8. Complain to everyone.

9. Feel ignored and rejected.

10. Go on “bens bitter blog” to join in the bitterness.

11. Be mocked by the beautiful sunny weather.

it burns usss

12. Decide you’ll have fun if you want to, do fun thing, get sicker.

Determined. To. Have. Fun.

So, now that I’ve inspired all of you with my up-beat mentality, I’d like ro remark that yesterday, August 1st, was national Switzerland day over here!

And as a sign of my overwhelming patriotism, I am expressing my celebration the day after :D

I did wear a red shirt yesterday, so I think it’s fine.


This, btw, was the “fun” i was talking about #groceryshoppingwithmom




17 and pregnant?! #theshockingtruth


Hey peeps,


So I’m seventeen, and what better time than now to think about reproducing?

No but *seriously*. I have recently decided that I want three kids:

one girl

one boy

and the third one doesn’t matter.

And, I mean, apart from the fact that I’d obviously be a great parent

see? i didn’t even have to be told!

my brother has given me a whole new perspective on the topic (because of course this is the kind of thing we talk about):

“Of course I want kids. A bunch of tiny mes running around? Yes please.”

That is a direct quote, people. (And now we know the truth. Cloning should definitely be [il]legal.)

Basically, I can’t wait to live vicariously through my kids :D – and the dating world will be better for it, because I am determined to make my sons the most well-behaved gentlement on the planet. Thank me later ;)

clearly, the internet provides great parenting advice, so i’m all set

Also, talk about big, stylish plans for my daughters.


If we’re going to be honest here, the only thing getting in my way of being the equivalent of Mary Poppins is my extreme egotism and singleness.

oh, well, and yknow, this…

You don’t think I’m ready?