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Lost in Translation

If you follow me on Twitter or Instagram, you already know that I went to Ljubljana this month. If you don't, you probably know it too, because I basically shouted it from the rooftops. 
The reason that I kept going on and on and on about this trip was that it was my first time as a solo traveller. Right after I'd bought my ticket I almost cried with fear when I thought about having to do everything all by myself. After all it's a big scary world out there and I'm a pretty small girl. I was afraid I wouldn't like solo travelling at all. The minute I left the house I fell in love with it though, and here's the reasons why!

Everything feels like a huge achievement
You got through airport security? Achievement! You boarded your plane? Achievement! You found out which shuttle will bring you to the city centre? Achievement! Got lost, but eventually found the way to your hostel? Achievement! You're the best!
When you're in a group, you don't think about how you're getting from A to B. You kind of trust the people around you to keep an eye out for you. If something goes wrong, you help each other out. But when you're travelling solo there's no such thing as 'relying on your friends'. No sir, you've got to do it all by yourself! So everything you manage to do something without completely messing it up, it feels like this huge achievement. Because you did that. All by yourself. You don't need no one's help, cause you're awesome like that!

You'll be alone
Well, duh. What else did you expect? That's why we call it "solo travelling". But for introverts like me, it's great. Ever been in that situation where you're lost in a foreign city with three friends who are doing a tug-of-war with the city map while yelling at each other how hopelessly lost you all are and that they're the best at finding the way back? Been there, done that, didn't like it at all.
So you'll be alone. You're the only person you have to make happy during your trip. No nagging, just me, myself and I to keep happy.

But you won't be alone for long
It's probably the biggest cliche there is in the travelling world, but it's true! You'll arrive by yourself. You'll go on a tour by yourself. Then suddenly you find yourself in the middle of a group of other solo travellers who are just freaking awesome. Believe me, if I can make friends within a day while travelling solo, everyone can do it!
People in hostels are usually friendly. Hanging out in the common rooms will almost certainly lead to a conversation and probably friendship. Invitations to go out are exchanged in dorm rooms all the time. Trust me, you won't be alone for long.

Though you can be alone if/when you want
Yes, those people you meet are amazing, but if you don't feel like hanging out with them today that's totally fine. If you want to hang out at that weird artsy place to take pictures of bikes, that's great. If you want to spend more time at the castle, go for it. If you're fed up with travelling, tired or grumpy, you can just stay in your dorm, on your bed with headphones on and a book in your hands. No one will judge you for it. That's the beauty of travelling by yourself: you can do whatever you want.

And yes, you'll have a lonely cry
Okay, maybe this is not so great about solo travelling, but I'd be lying if I said it was all rainbows and unicorns and awesomeness. No, you'll reach that point where you hate your bed, hate the food, hate having to say goodbye to the people in your dorm who are leaving, you hate having to fend for yourself 24/7. You're just done with it.
Or maybe something goes horribly wrong. Maybe you miss your flight, maybe your bag gets stolen. Anyway, at some point you'll feel like going home. A lonely cry will not exactly make you feel better, but the phone call home or the texts from your best friend will get you right back on track afterwards. Besides, there's a lot of awesomeness to your trip to think about, so why cry?

By the way, pizza for breakfast is totally an option
Before I say goodbye and forget one of the best parts of solo travelling, I'll say this: Pizza for breakfast is an option! It totally is! And the same goes for brownies and cake! Or a waffle for lunch! No, it's not the responsible or mature thing to do, but for once no one will tell you off for eating cake on a Wednesday morning. No one will judge you for getting that extra scoop of ice cream. Seize that moment and enjoy all the food whenever you want it!

When I travelled to Slovenia I got lost, I was scared, I was alone and sometimes completely confused. But all those things are part of the experience, an experience that was pretty amazing. I'll take that one lonely cry if it means I get to meet more and more awesome people while travelling through faraway countries. And let's not forget the pizza breakfast. There are some definite pros to that. So yes, it might seem scary at first, but it's more than worth it. If you ever get the chance to travel solo, don't hesitate. Take that chance!

Stay Awesome!
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4 Fellow Ramblers
Some mornings I wake up with tons of ideas for new blog posts, new followers and never-ending excitement. Blogging is something I'm truly passionate about, I write my posts with my heart and pick my images with care (well, most of the time). Waking up on mornings like these is amazing.
Yet some mornings I wake up to comments from people asking for follow-for-follows, Twitter and Instagram follows from people who will unfollow if I don't follow them back within five minutes and generic sponsored posts. On those days I'm not excited to start working on my blog. On those days I suffer from Blogger Blues.

There are many awesome things about blogging, but lately I've got to known the ugly side of blogging much better. If you have time, read this post here - just promise you come back to my blog after reading.
If you don't have that much time I'll tell you about the post: a former mommy blogger just shared all the nasty secrets about how big blogs became big. Just reading about it made me feel sick to my stomach. All the things I hate were featured: following people only to unfollow if they don't return the favour (apparently that's a highly recommended strategy), or just writing what the brands want you to write, even though you don't like their products. How can anyone do that?
My case of Blogger Blues just became so much worse while reading this post. I never understood how boring blogs with tons of spelling mistakes and cliche posts could be so popular. Now I do: follow-for-follows, letting people follow so they can enter a giveaway and if necessary, buy followers.
When I was done reading I looked at my follower count and felt cheated. Just that. Cheated.

I see bloggers who post the same generic, badly written posts that a thousand others have already posted and these people make it big, while my blog buddies and I go almost unnoticed. The reason behind that? My buddies don't use cheap methods to quickly grow a huge (but largely uninterested) audience. It's frustrating to see genuine and awesome posts receive not even a fraction of the attention that an extremely obviously sponsored post about diapers gets. It's frustrating to scrape together pageviews on a post you've written with all your heart, it's frustrating to see your friend's amazing blog not get the amount of followers it deserves.

Now at this point I can do two things: let my Blogger Blues get the best of me and grow bitter, or try to make it big in the blogging world by remaining true to myself. I will always choose the latter of those two options.
Yes, a lot of bloggers 'cheat' their way to the top. A lot of them do not and will never produce the high quality posts some completely unknown bloggers write. A lot of them are only in it for the money and the goodies. That's not me. I started blogging because I love writing. I rather receive two sincere comments on my posts than a thousand generic ones. I only follow people on Twitter if I had a nice chat with them or if they're just simply awesome. That might not be the quickest way to the top, but I do believe it's a good way. In the end, awesomeness always wins.
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10 Fellow Ramblers
Until a couple of months ago, I didn't know that art journalling was a thing. If people asked me why I was collecting pretty pictures of faraway places, this was my answer: 'I'm glueing them onto notebook pages to make a great big mess.'
Then the blogging gods were kind and introduced me to Areeba from Not Your Type Blog. Her art journal is from a whole other level, but it gave me the confidence to share a few of my art journal pages on Instagram during my 100 Happy Days Challenge. I got such positive feedback that I felt like sharing more. So I present you: The Grand Tour of Envy's Art Journal!


When I started art journalling, I mostly did pages like this one: all the pretty pictures of one country that I could find in my 200+ pages travel brochure.


 Some turned out great (yes, I'm talking about you Iceland *winks*), others are pure rubbish (I'm so sorry India). My favorites are Tunesia, Thailand and Turkey.


When I was done with these pages I still had dozens of pictures from all over the world left. I also wasn't done with the waderlust theme yet, so I started experimenting with travel quotes. The first attempt was okayish.


Okayish, but nothing more than that. But practice makes perfect. I had fourteen travel quotes and a pile of over a hundred travel pictures, so I goit going and filled pages after page after page. You can find all of them on my Instagram.


My favorite page his to be the double page I did a couple of months ago. I can imagine this as a big print, hanging on the living room of my future apartment. With pictures of places I've been and places I still want to see, it's just perfect. Every time I look at it I just want to pack my bag and visit my blog buddies on the other side of the world.


My art journal hasn't seen many new pages in the past few weeks, mostly because I was so busy with college and travelling. I'm still not done with the wanderlust theme though. Soon my Instagram will be full of wanderlusty art journal pages again.

Stay Awesome!
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4 Fellow Ramblers
Some time ago, back in November, I thought it would be a good idea to set up an Instagram account. Now don't ask me why I thought that was a good idea, but mere seconds after the idea popped up I already had an account and there was no going back.
I was pretty proud of myself. After all. it had only been a few weeks since my mom had told me to pick up photography as a hobby. I loved the sound of that and was already imagining my life as a famous Instagram photographer. I had it all planned, but then I realized... I had nothing Instagrammable around.

My realization hit after Kanra from The Lunar Descent had shown me around. There were some wonderful accounts around and I wished mine could be one of them. For a while I put becoming a serious Instagrammer off by participating in the 100 Happy Days Challenge. Eventually I was faced with the same problem again: I completed my challenge and still had nothing Instagrammable around. And so I put things off once again, this time to do research on what makes an Instagrammer successful.

I came across so many types of Instagrammers. Some used their body to get followers. All good for them, but I immediately knew this would never be the way to go for me.
Then there were the artists. They had thousands of followers eagerly awaiting their next masterpiece. I liked that, but knew I wouldn't be able to do that. My artsy phase ended along with my high school days.
Next I noticed bloggers who had an 'Instagram theme'. I didn't know that was a thing, but apparently it is. Posting pictures with the same color scheme or type of objects has a wonderful effect, but it looked like a lot of effort. I checked my own profile and decided I had a theme too. I called it 'complete and utter chaos'.

Instagram wasn't the place for me, I thought as I closed my laptop and ventured out with my camera. There still was nothing Instagrammable around. Then I looked through the lense of my camera and saw the world from a new point of view. If something's not pretty enough to take a picture of it, I realized, you're not looking at it from the right angle. I think I found that angle in Berlin and Ljubljana. Like this one from Metelkova, a shot I never would have taken if I hadn't stumbled, then looked up and noticed this while I was falling.
The right angle can tell stories perfectly
A couple weeks have passed since I realized everything is Instagrammable. I like to go out, find a new angle, then mess around with all the filters and tools to make a pretty picture look awesome. I still don't understand Instagram though, because all I ever get is follow-for-follow people who quickly unfollow me. But that shouldn't be a point. The point should be that I have fun sharing pictures of the world I see through my lense. Hopefully I can show people a different point of view through them.

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"So if the train station is behind me, and I came from the right, that should mean... that I'm holding the map upside down. Great."
I'd been in SLovenia for two hours and was already hopelessly lost in its capital Ljubljana. It had looked so easy on the map at home: train station, big street on the right, Preseren Square, follow the river till my hostel. Easy, right?
Wrong. Very wrong. Ljubljana might not be a gigantic metropolis that's home to millions, but it's a place I could get completely lost in nonetheless. And let me tell you this: I loved every second of being lost in Ljubljana.

I managed to find my hostel that first day in Ljubljana and decided to stick to the strategy of 'find the river'. As long as I followed the Ljubljanica I knew exactly where I was. As soon as I turned my back to it, I was lost - and that's how I found the most wonderful places in the city. I love that feeling of turning a corner and suddenly finding the place you couldn't find when you were walking around with a map. You discover so much more when you are lost.

I discovered Ljubljanski Grad, the castle. That in itself isn't much of an achievement since it's on top of a hill and you can see it most of the time, but there are multiple paths that lead to this castle. And, you guessed it, I got lost on these paths. I ended up following a different trail than the one I wanted to follow. The result was this view on my way to the top of the hill.
I was following a path that was more beautiful than I could've imagined - also much steeper. It only made me appreciate the castle and its view even more.

I discovered the Dragon bridge. One day, when I was hopelessly lost on a small market square near a church, I made things worse by turning my back to the river. When I tried making my way back to the Ljubljanica, I suddenly found myself standing eye to, well, claw actually, with one of the dragons of the Dragon Bridge. My jaw just dripped and if I hadn't been in public I would've done a little victory dance. Nothing feels better than finding a landmark without trying.

I discovered street art and graffiti. So much street art, so much graffiti. Back home it never caught my eye, but here it seemed everywhere. Foxes, cats, birds and my favorite: the flying eyeball. After a day or two in Ljubljana I didn't look at the buildings for their architecture anymore. I looked for hidden art on their walls. The most beautiful pieces were the ones I saw when I had no idea where I was.

I discovered Metelkova and its creative vibes. Once an army base, the place now looks like one big piece of art. One moment I was walking down a plain and normal street, the next I was surrounded by colors and creativity. I still wonder how I ended up here, but it quickly became one of my favorite places in the city. I could've wandered around for hours, days even, without discovering every amazing detail of the place. It was a coincidence that I ended up there, some would say. I like to believe it was meant to be. Metelkova's creative vibes were exactly what I needed. After finding this place, I'm sure I'll be able the live the creative life I want.

I discovered I'm not as helpless as I thought. Not everything I discovered while I was lost in Ljubljana was a physical place. I think I found big parts of myself in Metelkova and on my way to the castle: the creative part that refuses to live a lame and average life and the independent part that doesn't need anyone to help her find her way back, not matter how lost she is. I never thought there was truth in this quote, but as it turns out it's one of the biggest truths of solo travelling.

I discovered so much more in six days in Ljubljana. Almost too much to share. But I'll try to show some more of my little Slovenian discoveries on Instagram. Hope to see you there.

Stay Awesome!
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4 Fellow Ramblers
Lately I've been obsessed with words, even more than usual. I learn new words in Urdu and German while I rediscover English words that I haven't heard since I was 11. I've looked back at the words that hurt me and I hope that my way with words will shape my future.
The Text Tag matches my current mindset perfectly. I was lucky enough to be tagged for it by not just one, but two amazing bloggers: Little Robin from Little Teen's Blog and Elsie Anonymous. Thank you ladies for tagging me, I'll go answer your questions right away!

What is your favorite letter of the alphabet?
It's not just the first letter of my real name, you can also make this letter with your hands. Sort of. Kind of. Not really. But the idea is cool.

What are three words that you love?
Three words, three different languages. I couldn't help myself. I chose these words because of the way they sound, not because of what they mean. These words are the words I could say all day without ever growing tired of them. 
I think we all know what 'pope' means. Zalzala means earthquake and sounds very pretty for something that destroys everything. Dompelpomp is a device for cleaning your pond without killing your fish. The thing itself is lame but the word sounds nice.

What are three words that you hate?
These words... My god, I hate them so bad. I hate pineapple because it doesn't make any sense. It's 'ananas' in almost every language, but in English it's suddenly 'pineapple'. Where is the logic in that?!
Career is a word I hate because I can't pronounce it properly. My tongue is probably too fat to do it. It always comes out as 'caweer' or 'careew'. Stupid word.
The last word I hate is from my own language and it means 'bucket'. I have no idea why, but I don't like the word 'emmer' at all. Something about it is just not quite right.

If you were to create a word, what would it be and what would it describe?
I'm very bad at creating new words. My best friend is much better at it. I think he came up with my favorite home made word. Okay, my second favorite, but my favorite is an insult and that's not nice. So the one I'll go for is 'okayish'. It's perfect for when something is not quite okay, but it's still too good to say 'meh'. That's when things are okayish.

What are your three favorite punctuation marks?
I love making huge extravagant question and exclamation marks. In 11th grade I used to spent most of my math tests making beautiful question marks on my asnwer sheet whenever I had no idea what I was supposed to do. 
The period, well, it's the bas of almost all punctuation marks and deserves some respect, don't you think?

What are your three favorite fonts?
I'm not a huge dan of fonts to be honest. I prefer handwriting over fonts. My favorite handwriting is that of my friend Jasmina, my mom's and my own (glad that didn't sound arrogant at all).

What's a word/words that you think is often misunderstood and gets used in the wrong context?
(Question by Little Robin)
Literally. I think this is literally the most misused word in the English language. Whenever people say they are "literally dead", I cringe. I see you laughing, I hear you talking, unless you're a zombie you're not literally dead right now!

If you could remove one letter from the alphabet, which one would it be and why?
(Question by Elsie Anonymous)
Okay, I admit that the letter X looks pretty bad ass. But do we actually need it? It's just a combination of a normal K and a normal S and yes, it does make a word look a whole lot fancier, but it's still completely unnecessary. It's an okayish letter at best.

As tags usually go, I´m supposed to pass it on. Here are the blog buddies I´d like to see answer these questions:
Jerneja from Sparkly Kid
Kathie K from A Sea Change
Kanra Khan from The Lunar Descent
Muskan from Just Another Blog-Girl

My extra question for you: Which do you prefer, handwritten or typed notes?
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4 Fellow Ramblers
Sticks and stones may break my bones, but some words will always keep hurting. I will always take them with me, wear them like invisible scars. But just because they're invisible, it doesn't mean they're not here. They're a big part of me, a part people don't know and understand. So for once I'll show you my scars and explain the world how I got them. I'm not doing this to see people tell me I'm none of the things I've been called in the past, no, I just want the world to see how much damage words can do.

Let me start with the oldest scar. The one right at the start of this post. I got it from a teacher in 6th grade.
You know that one kid in class who knows the answer to every question? The Hermione? That used to be me. I raised my hand at every question, corrected my teachers when they were wrong and spent most of my time daydreaming because I finished all my work so quickly. My teachers didn't like that.
One day though, our math book gave an unclear instruction and I couldn't figure out what to do. When I asked my teacher for help, she saw her chance and grabbed it.
"Now you're not so smart anymore, are you? Where's your big mouth now?" she ranted in front of the whole class. "Don't think you're smart. You always think you're oh so smart, but you're not! You're worthless!"
My classmates laughed as I looked down in shame, tears streaming down my face. The words hurt me and the one that hurts me most stuck to my skin. I't been eight years, but I can still see this scar clear as day. The sad thing is that it wasn't the only scar I was given by a 6th grade teacher.

There were only a few days left of 6th grade when I got this one. Out of nowhere, my teacher decided to bring me down after I'd given the correct answer to a question.
"Envy, you're such a know-it-all. It's extremely annoying. If you go on like this, you'll never have any friends. All teachers will hate a know-it-all like you."
Again my classmates laughed as I cried with frustration. I took the hits and blows, knowing I'd be out of that school soon. But the scars stayed, as ugly reminders of my days in 6th grade hell.

I hoped I wouldn't add any new scars to my collection once I entered high school, but after one look at my face, my new classmates decided I was ugly. Everyone knows that ugly girls should be bullied, so that's exactly what my classmates did. My mentor knew about it, but didn't do anything to help me, because 'the other kids are right, Envy is ugly'.
You'll never forget that feeling of knowing that everyone around you thinks you're ugly. You get insulted and mocked, even your friends take part in it. And over time, the insults become more and more creative, more and more hurtful.
"Damn, your nose is so huge!"
"Your eyebrows make you look like an orangutan!"
"If an orc had a miscarriage that'd somehow live and grow up, it'd look just like you!"
At some point you can't shake it off anymore. It's like the insults get etched into your skin, deeper and deeper. The insult I heard most was this single simple word. Ugly. My other invisible scars might disappear one day, years from now maybe. This one never will.


The last scar I'll show isn't as old as the others. I got it recently, in September 2015. Meghan Trainor had kickstarted skinny shaming just a couple months earlier and so one of my oldest friends thought it was okay to call me "anorexic". This one hurt terribly, not just because the blow came from a friend I'd seen as the sister I'd never had, but also because I'd lost weight because I'd been sick for a couple of days. It was weight I didn't want to lose and when my friend pointed out that guys don't like girls my size and that I looked like I had anorexia, I broke down. I cried myself to sleep that night.


Now that I've shown my scars, I don't know what to do. I feel vulnerable and weak. Hurt and, to be honest, quite ugly and worthless. But my scars are part of who I am, they made me this person I am today. I hope you can respect that. I hope  you can understand how they have affected the way I look at and think about myself. But most of all I hope you'll be kind to others and never scar them the way I've been scarred.

Stay Awesome!
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18 Fellow Ramblers
November 22nd: OMG I'm going to Slovenia! I'm going to meet Jerneja from Sparkly Kid!
December 10th: I'm so freaking excited!
January 17th: This is going to be so awesome.
February 14th: I can't wait till May.
March 5th: Almost almost May.
April 28th: Two days away from May.
May 1st: Shit, what if we don't get along? What if I'm a disappointment to her?
May 3rd: Well, no going back now...

From Envy's Make it Happen List
#29: Meet a blog buddy in real life
Status: Awesomeness achieved

There's nothing more exciting and terrifying than meeting an online friend offline for the very first time. So when I sat at the bas of the Preseren statue on Preseren square, I was torn between fight, flight and total excitement. Sure I'd talked to Jerneja plenty of times on Twitter and through comments, but... you never know, right? As long as the internet exists, catfishes and the chance of being stood up will be around.
One o'clock, the moment we'd meet, came and went. A few doom scenarios crossed my mind. My heart was beating like crazy when I received a text from Jerneja, saying she'd come a little later on. Mere minutes later, she was standing in front of me. It was the most surreal thing ever.

What do you say to someone who's never heard your voice, yet knows all your stories from the past years? Apparently you keep repeating how awkward you and the situation both are. At least that's what I did. There was something about the situation that my brain couldn't quite handle and that something was this: I was not looking at a picture on a screen, I was interacting with a real human. That switch from online to offline is not an easy one to make, but once I'd made it, it was awesome.

Jerneja and I went to get a drink on top of Neboticnik Skyscraper, talked about whatever came to mind, then took the first blog buddy selfie of our lives. I've got to say that it felt pretty awesome.

We actually met!! We're both real people! 😄 #bloggermeetup #ljubljanacastle @envy_fisher
Een foto die is geplaatst door Jerneja (@sparklykid_) op 3 Mei 2016 om 6:42 PDT

In the days that followed, we saw Captain America: Civil War together, along with a few of Jerneja's friends. It was my first time watching a Marvel movie with die hard Marvel fans. It was great, even though Slovene subtitles sometimes distracted me from the perfection that's Captain America.
Later on we took a mini road trip to Bled, where we rented a row boat. Now imagine that: two bloggers in a row boat. That's where the weirdness gets in too. And of course the selfies to send to our other blog buddies.
On Friday I had to say goodbye to Jerneja. It was awkward again. I'm not good at saying goodbye, mostly because I'm trying to contain my emotions. I couldn't focus on saying goodbye, I was trying too hard to think of ways to keep seeing my blog buddy and meet others like Kathie from A Sea Change and Kanra from The Lunar Descent too. I was sad to say goodbye to Jerneja, but so grateful that we'd been given the chance to meet both online and in real life.
If you ever get the chance to meet one of your blog buddies in real life, grab it! It might be awkward at first, but it'll turn out to be awesome.

Have you ever met any of your blog buddies in real life? Would you be as awkward as I was?
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I am by no means a poet. There was a time when I thought I was one, when I even thought I was a good one. Then I started literature classes in high school and didn't see the difference between great poetry and bad poetry anymore. Now writing poetry is something I like to do when my heart is broken. Lucky for me my heart doesn't get broken every day, but for my poetry it means, well... it means that I don't write very much.

My heart was last broken a year ago. I moved on, but had a few setbacks. During one of those setbacks, I wrote this poem. It lay unfinished on a scrap of paper under my bed, where all my painful personal projects end up at some point, and I only found it when I had to clean my room. I liked it when I found it, but saw it needed some tweeking. You see, in the original version I took the blame for getting my heart broken. The end was extremely sad. I knew I could do better than that. And so, I gave it a shot.

Walk Away


I wish I'd walked
Walked
Walked away

In my mind you were perfection
You were everything to me
Then with one single action
You destroyed our little 'we'
Yet you wouldn't give me the satisfaction
Of walking away to get to be
Away from all the harm and rejection

Let me just walk 
Walk
Walk away

Thousands of memories cloud my mind
They try to drag me back to the past
To back when you were sweet and kind
Yet I don't need you to make this life the best
Nor the memories of how it was all so ill-timed
So I'll shrug and shake it off
I'll leave it all behind

I'll walk
Walk
Walk away
The future lies ahead


I was never meant to be a poet. But at moments like these, I'm glad I can string words together this way. I sincerely hope you enjoyed reading a little bit of my wannabe poetry.

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About me


Envy. Dutch blogger. Est. 1996. No relation to the famous biblical sin. Worst bio writer on this side of the blogospere. Lives on cookies, apple juice and art. Friendly unless confronted with pineapple on pizza. Writes new nonsense every Thursday.

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