What I thought’d happen
I’d relax in a bright, bustling city

What actually happened
I locked myself in my room for a week because it was less miserable than outside


I’ve been in Gothenburg for a few days now preparing for my trip to Iceland next week. And I’ll be blunt. No matter how many well angled, factitious selfies you take here, nothing can hide the fact that this place is dull.

Being the second largest city in Sweden, I anticipated a lively, bustling place. Somewhere with spirit. Someplace with soul. Instead it’s a barren wasteland. The buildings are grey. The weather is grey. The people are grey.

It’s summer and the youth have cleared this city like migratory birds. Those that remain scatter around the shopping malls like pigeons with white shopping bag wings, hungry for shiny new prizes to brighten their wishwash lives.

Passersby stare and compare, it’s a fine line between over and under dressing, and judgement day is every day. I have the urge to run up and yell in their beautifully sculpted faces “I’VE ONLY ROOM FOR ONE PAIR OF SHOES”. I want to slap them with their own perfectly manicured hands and cry “I’m not wearing faded running shorts and a puckered white t-shirt with hiking boots BY FUCKING CHOICE.” And speaking of hiking boots, it’s the 21st century and we discovered water on Mars the other day, so ISN’T IT ABOUT TIME SOMEBODY DESIGNED HIKING SHOES THAT DIDN’T LOOK LIKE I’VE TAPED BOULDERS TO MY FEET.

Sigh* This city is toxic. See what it’s done to me.

Get me out of here. Rant. Over.


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