#nikkothenerd

[peculiar-hearts]

the places we go, the people we meet by the girl who made it on her own on Flickr.

[ingelnook]

the places we go, the people we meet by the girl who made it on her own on Flickr.

[reveiling]

the places we go, the people we meet by the girl who made it on her own on Flickr.

[common-paradox]

this is fucking untitled (by nikolas brummer)

so there were two things I promised myself when I started this project; to stay true to myself and be honest, and never hide a picture just because I don't like it. because I don't want this to be the picture-perfect 365-project with just pretty pictures, no fuck, I want to be real. so here you have some real fucking emotion. I was shooting at the river and the photos turned out horrible, and the photos had been my only anchor for the day. if I am crying or not that is really up to all the judgmental whores out there ... I just can't. I want to detach from all of these people out there and everything is dragging me down. Fucking everything and all the people out there will be like "oh my god nikolas is so dramatic", well, really, all of you .... gah. there are so many people out there that I'd love to punch into the face right away because they always have expectations and make judgements and simply never think about anything ro question there lives or whatsoever. because questioning everything, that's what I've been up to lately. god. I could go on with this but I'll stop here so it's not going to take me over.

this is fucking day twenty two.

[common-paradox]

and I know ... I'll never wake up (by nikolas brummer)

we've lost the touch to reality. we fall in love with strangers, picturing their stories and minds as we please. we start dancing in the streets as at the times we felt no one was watching. we attach to things so easily; to that pen we use everyday to put down our thoughts into words, to that bracelet we got on that trip where we felt everlasting, to that person we met just yesterday and who we can't get our mind off. we're dying and coming alive again with the characters in the books we read, we hold them to our breasts and say "this is me black on white". our mood changes within a second when the first line of this specific song comes on. we lie in the high grass watching the clouds, but they are not clouds. this is a lion and that over there is a kissing couple. we put a life and a mind in every little thing we see; these sparks rising towards the sky long to be part of the stars, this branch got mad at our ignorance and wanted to hit us in the knee, our cat is hurt by our absence for the last couple of days and of course it won't speak to us now. we sit in the car and rest our head against the window as though our lives were a movie and we just departed from our significant other. we prefer the dark because it leaves place for our own imagination; still we are afraid of it. we see things and we try to understand. we don't live life. we see it, we taste it, we smell it, we hear it, we breathe it … we grasp it with out tiny fingers, trying to hold onto every little second and every flick of an eye. we're disillusioned from everything that is, but still we feel as if we are the part of something big. we're never lonely because we constantly share company with our thoughts. we cry and we smile, and we don't understand so many things. but we try to. we don't know what we want and who we want to be, but still we walk along the alley knowing with a clear destination set in mind. at the same time we are free like the wind, vibrant as the stormy ocean, tender like the sunrise in the morning and sticky like resin to everything around us.

we'll never change the way we are, but inside of us, we are changing everyday. and eventually, we are okay with that. because we never know what is ahead of us and we are too curious to feel fear.

souls, written a week ago.

(day fifteen)

[common-paradox]

heavy storms pt. II (by nikolas brummer)

"... it was right after the storm had ceased that I went up to the place the wind took their bodies away, and just there, withered up in the grass, covered in mud, but breathing, I found him. the silhouette that had cried to be heard. as I touched him, he lifted his head and glanced at me with eyes of an unspoiled state I'd never discovered before. I remembered him running along among these creatures that once were, and I asked him what had happened to him. "fold in the wind." he whispered. "it's best the times when everything has gotten to an end and there is no hope anymore, when the storm is about to take your body away and devastate your world … you know … you don't always have to fight to be strong."

from my short story heavy storms

(day twelve)

[common-paradox]

night lights (by nikolas brummer)

night time is such a paradox thing. you hear people saying how they adore the night, how they find the darkness intriguing and indeed, it leaves so much space for your imagination. whilst the leaves shine in a green color at the day, night time doesn't reveal any color, any life in them. and so we project on them what our minds tell us. not only the leaves, but also the paths, the darkness surrounding us. suddenly, we are alone. alone in some place that we cannot define, some place where we don't know what is hiding behind the next tree or corner - we're somewhat lost. I think it's because night time isn't really an honest nature ... and honesty is one of the most important things, as I think - the night lies and tells us things we blindly believe, leaded by fear, loneliness and our cruel minds. it doesn't show it's true self, or rather, it covers it up under everything there is. and I think that is sad because it's not only the night that does that. it's also the people around us. so we cannot love the night for what it really is unless we look beyond the surface. and we cannot love the people for who they really are because they rather let us living with our imagination thinking of who they are ... and as soon as these masks are taken of, we can't accept it. because we're way to fed up having everything living up to our expectations when in reality, it's nothing of our business at all.

this was taken at my favorite place at my favorite time of the day. it was raining.

(day eleven)

[common-paradox]

destinies (by nikolas brummer)

I don't want to waste my life living up to anyone's expectations, I don't want to bend and ache for anyone, I don't want to change because it doesn't fit in someone's image. Sometimes I wish I could cut off all these influences and just start all over by myself. Detaching from the love, the hate, the unnecessary talking ... it'd be so easier. While on the one hand it is not impossible, I could never let go of the loved ones. I simply couldn't .. and I think that's good. Because those are the people that try to change me the least - if even not at all. So eventually, I think I've got this all under my power and control. Not everything. There are so many twists to come that I'm not even slightly aware of, but that's actually what makes it worth it. And I think that's good.

(day ten)