Nicklas, or at least the gravitational force that surrounds him, has trouble defining himself. You shouldn’t just be what you do or are good at, but that’s also something hard to escape. But if you want to know, you want to know I guess. So here it goes.
Nicklas, the one in the photograph, lives in rural Sweden in a tiny place where the population is in the seven-hundreds and, surprisingly, the Internet speed is faster than a lot of other places. He likes food, which now in his 40s has began to show. He wishes he were a lot more musical, that he could make a proper living on art — incidentally also the only thing he feels competent at — and that the people he likes lived closer or that someone would invent that bloody teleporter already.
He collects role-playing games, books, and thoughts about both of those. He does not hold the personal brand idea in high regard, but then again, he did educate himself into unemployment so what does he know?