doubt.

Let’s dive right into my soul. Shall we?
Doubt walks hand in hand with Hesitation. At least in my little world. Doubt is usually the the reason I hesitate before taking action. I not only doubt wether the outcome is worth putting in all the effort, no I even doubt my own existence from time to time. I literally doubt everything – and when I say everything I mean EVERYTHING.

It is not easy living in a fast-moving world. As soon as you have settled down and finally feel content in all aspects of your life, you are forced to move forward and catch up on everything that you have „missed“ due to taking one step at a time. In a society where everyone blindly moves forward, there is no time for emotions or deep conversations left anymore. The kind of communication that is now domineering is small talk. Sad, right? I never thought I will be experiencing this horrible era where everything is better left unsaid and the only form of communication taking place is online in the depths of the WWW.

Wie viele Chancen hat jemand verdient?

Wieviele Chancen hat ein Mensch verdient? Eine? Zwei, Drei? Sagt es mir. Ich gebe so vielen Menschen zu viele Chancen, einfach weil ich immer nur das Positive in ihnen sehe. Jedes Mal sage ich mir, „Komm wie oft willst du denn noch verletzt werden?“ – und wie oft gebe ich nach und gebe der Person trotzdem noch eine Chance? Ich bringe es einfach überhaupt nicht übers Herz jemanden aus meinem Leben zu streichen. Alleine „aus dem Leben streichen“ klingt so hart. Genau so aber auch „einfach gehen zu lassen“. Gibt es denn nicht eine etwas sanftere Art, das zu formulieren um es mir zu zu erleichtern?

Es gibt doch einen Grund wieso diese Person es in mein Leben geschafft hat und einen Teil des Weges mit mir gegangen ist, oder? Es hängen so viele Erinnerungen an einer Person. Erinnerungen die ich niemals, unter keinen Umständen, vergessen will. Doch dadurch, dass ich das Negative in einem Menschen ignoriere, behindere ich mich selbst daran, diese Person zu vergessen. Es ist nicht so einfach wie ich mir selbst immer einrede. Am Schwersten ist es immer noch jemanden gehen zu lassen, dem man über die Jahre hinweg einfach alles anvertraut hat.

Unsinn.

Emotional zerreißt es mich gerade. So viele Gedanken schweben in meinem Kopf herum. So viele unbeantwortete Fragen. Klar, ich könnte mich auf den Weg machen um meine Antworten zu finden. Will ich es? Ja. Trau ich mich es? Nein. Wäre ich erleichtert, wüsste ich den Grund wieso alles so ist, wie es jetzt ist? Vielleicht. Könnte ich mit den Konsequenzen leben die dadurch entstehen? Höchstwahrscheinlich nicht. Deshalb schweige ich vor mich hin und hoffe, dass ein Wunder geschieht und sich alles von selbst klärt. Einstweilen hüpfe ich von einer Party zur Nächsten und lege meine ganze Hoffnung in den Abend, dass am nächsten Morgen alles gut sein wird.

Ich setzte alles daran, einfach hinzunehmen wie die Situation gerade ist. Morgen wache ich bestimmt wieder auf, lese diesen Text hier und lache über den Unsinn der mich heute noch so belastet hat.

Norway 2017.

 

I’ve been to the X-Games, yes. Finally. It was about time. My heart was screaming to fly to Norway the past couple of years, so I made it my goal to fly there. Guess what, my anxious ass decided to book (even expensive as hell) flight tickets there which was one hell of an act as I am the worst when it comes to flying. I hate flying. I am literally so scared I almost pass out during the take off and/or landing, doesn’t matter.

To get to Norway was a real hassle which caused my heart beat ten times faster than it normally would. Adding to my already annoying nervousness, I started to get hot-and-cold flushes on my layover in Frankfurt. Never mind. To get my mind off things I decided to be the most stereotypical person ever and bought a freaking Frankfurter at 7am in the morning. Yes, 7am. As I set there enjoying my Frankfurter to the max, I already pictured myself meeting my favorite snowboarder. That wasn’t actually the best idea I’ve had since it started to cause my body to pump so much adrenaline through my veins, I felt sick. A few episodes of Breaking Bad later, I jumped on the plane to fucking Oslo. (Ok, I’m not going to talk about how I almost passed out during the take off and stopped breathing. I’ll spare you the long, detailed description of how I thought it’ll be my last day here)

The time auto-pilot took over, was the time I could finally relax and bring my body out of it’s paralysis state. I kept staring out of the window, blocking the sight for everyone else in my row. Probably annoyed the fuck out of them, but who cares really? I was so amazed by the view outside, I almost failed to hear the stewardess talking to me. She nicely handed me the whatever-fake-wannabe-miniature „Strietzel“ (braided yeast bread, for all of you Non-Austrians) and some weird tasting no name water. Honestly, I was kind of disappointed, because I expected fresh, glacier water straight from the Lofoten islands to be handed to me. Whatever. When we were almost approaching Oslo, my eyes were glued to the Atlantic ocean 10k ft. below us. I smiled like the Cheshire cat and waved outside the window in serious hope my friend Ea in Frederica would see me, as soon as I heard the captain holding his well memorized speech about how we can see the shore of Denmark glimpsing through the clouds. (Long ass sentence with no meaning, sorry.). However my Cheshire cat grin died when the plane abruptly dropped. I made this really loud „HHHHHH“ noise when you’re inhaling, but as you can imagine, I didn’t exhale. I stopped my breathing and crushed my own hands. It was the absolute worst and my body moved into the paralysis state in the blink of an eye again.

The rest of the flight, I stared outside in amazement (still hoping not to die), because Norway was a thing of beauty covered in snow. My heart, however, stopped beating when I saw the landing strip being icy and frozen. All in all I was being overdramatic because the landing process went just fine and I made it to Norway alive. The whole „leaving-the-aircraft“ and „picking-up-the-luggage“ was pure horror. Since (as always) the flight was almost fully booked, a few people were forced to drop off the hand luggage. As lucky as I was, I was one of them.

While making my way to pick up my tiny hand luggage, I stopped at a gigantic wall with freshly, deep green planted moss. I wasn’t sure if I was so tired, I hallucinated but after my eyes have focused I could clearly see it was actual living plants. Wow. A look on my phone made my heart drop. I had to pick up my train ticket for the train that was leaving in 20 minutes but here I was staring at a football field sized moss wall. I walked as fast as I could because I couldn’t be arsed to run. (Actually I didn’t want to look like a fucking penguin wading through the airport). As the devil wished, my luggage made it out the last anyway so I didn’t actually have to worry. Making my way to the ticket machine, I panicked because I have never ever used one of those high-tech machines but it turned out I mastered it and got my ticket in time. I was literally only waiting 2 minutes on the train track when my train to Lillehammer arrived. I swear, if that wasn’t luck sent to me straight from heaven, I don’t know what it was. I knew I was about to have a 2 1/2 hour train ride ahead of me, yet there was no place to sit so I was forced to stay tightly squeezed, next to model-looking guys. You know what I felt like? A freaking potato dragged out of a dumpster.

Fast forward to when I left the train in Lillehammer because nothing funny happened on the train ride there. As I made it out of the train station, I took a deep breath that awakened my soul and that’s how my journey to the hotel began. (For your information, I only had one night booked at the hotel even though I was staying in Lillehammer for 2 nights, but all of the hotels were fully booked for the following day. Didn’t stop me from flying there anyway and be homeless for a night, freezing in the cold, dark streets of Bankgata.) Thank god, I booked a room in a hotel that was „just down the street“, or so it seemed on Google Maps. As I waded through the snow and the icy streets of Lille-fucking-hammer, I discovered something which I thought would be the death of me. When I looked up to see where I was going, it turned out I had to climb fucking Mt. Everest to get to the hotel. I swear the streets all had an angle of what looked like 60 degrees to me. I told myself „yeah no biggie, I’m sure it’s just these two streets and then the rest of the road will be all even“. HA, AS IF. The horror continued and the journey which was supposed to only take 20 minutes, turned out to take double the amount of time. Despite the fact it took me 40 minutes to get to the hotel, I slipped approximately ten thousand times trying to get up the hill. I tried everything, walking like a penguin, shuffling, sideways walking – nothing worked. I failed big time.

When I FINALLY arrived at the hotel, I checked to see when the shuttle busses to Hafjell would be leaving. Turned out, it was too late already since the Men’s Slopestyle contest was coming to an end anyway. That was fantastic news because I’ve just wasted 50€ on a ticket which never found it’s own true purpose of being redeemed. The cherry on top though was, I’ve missed my favourite snowboarder winning his first gold medal. I’ll probably never forgive myself for letting that happen.

To distract myself of myself being a total mess, I decided to take the life-threatening walk, or should I say slide, down the icy roads of Lillehammer hills. On my way down, I’ve slipped like a hundred times, but at least I’ve entertained all the passing people with my clumsiness. In between I took pictures of snow, snow and even more snow. I even stopped on my way to the „city centre“, shed a tear and thanked Jack Frost for this heavenly art he created. In the meanwhile my friends from Mexico, Lithuania and Italy arrived back to Lillehammer from Hafjell so we decided to meet up to go grocery shopping at 9pm. (Reason why I want to move to Norway is, the supermarkets don’t close until 11pm and my forgetful ass wouldn’t have to worry about getting that toilet paper at 10.45pm anymore.) However, we got one of the shopping carts and danced, literally, D A N C E D through the supermarket trying to pronounce every word we could find. The shop staff kept walking past us bursting out in laughter everytime they saw us hugging fridges filled with beer or cupboards filled with 100 different types of crisp bread. After staring at the beer fridge for 10 minutes as if it would open itself, we decided to bring beer with us to the hotel to celebrate we all made it to Norway. By the attempt to open the fridge however, we failed. My friend almost broke her arm trying to violently open it, when the model-looking like staff member came around the corner to tell us laughingly, that the fridges are closed since they aren’t allowed to sell alcohol past 8pm. (Lame). This instantly made me reconsider moving to Norway.

Nevertheless, we left without alcohol but instead filled our bags with 57 different types of crisp bread, 500 avocados and a ton of apples and tomatoes. While walking through the cold streets we decided to actually go and eat at a restaurant as if we didn’t just buy a weekly supply of food. So we ended up at a really funny restaurant next to a river where we all ordered a salad for 25€ each. TWENTY-FIVE EUROS. Just let that sink in. A freaking boring Cesar salad without meat costs half a fortune in sweet little Lillehammer. (Thank you for nothing, Norway). After we all finished our children’s portion of salad we left to do some things I can not mention here on the internet. All in all, I fell in my bed with the worst migraine ever.