The FML Project Book for ChatGPT

by Tor


June 2, 2023

The FML Project
The Story of a Fighter
The Power of a Mindset
By Tor Erik Seppola
“Sometimes people don’t want to hear the truth because
they don’t want their illusions destroyed.”

  • Friedrich Nietzsche
    A Viking at heart 6
    A clotted barricade 11
    The encounter that changed everything 19
    The flame that destroyed and started my life 22
    The robbing spree 32
    The arrest 40
    The trials 46
    A free man 51
    Job at the factory 56
    CHAPTER 10
    Midgardsblot 60
    CHAPTER 11
    UDI (The Foreign Department) 71
    CHAPTER 12
    Quantum Leap 74
    CHAPTER 13
    Deported 80
    CHAPTER 14
    The Foundations of FML 86
    CHAPTER 15
    Welcome Home (Again) 97
    When I decided to write this small book about a few things from my life, I
    wasn’t quite sure what I was getting into or what I would end up with.
    During the writing process, I relived many memories that I had buried deep
    in my memory. I felt many feelings again that stems from the experiences
    I’ve had and I also remembered some details that I’d forgotten all about.
    This gave me a slight hint as to what I need to do going forward with my
    life. I’ve lived a relatively short life thus far, but it’s filled with insane
    experiences and stories that might have been normal for me and still
    shocked those that heard my tales. The situations I’ve encountered have
    given me a whole lot of different perspectives that I’ve benefited from in the
    time after the experiences. Perspectives I’ve also helped people with, by
    showing them different angles to a problem they might be struggling with.
    This is why I feel a sense of duty to dive into my brain and document these
    perspectives and insights in an attempt to help others, so that they’re not
    required to live through similar experiences to get the lessons from them.
    The lessons that I learned the hard way.
    This little book is about the stories that’s had a major impact on who I am
    today. It’s the things that I’ll never forget, the things that will always be front
    and center in my memory. After I started writing it all down, I’ve talked to
    people about what I’ve seen and done, which has uncovered even more
    memories from my crazy life. They are not documented in this book, but
    have had a huge role in shaping me as a person and helping me develop
    further. “FML” is planned to be an overview of hurdles I’ve lived through
    before I start working on my personal mythology.
    “The Ash” will be compiled by the stories and lessons from my time as an
    irresponsible criminal, my upbringing and the beginning of my life.
    “The Seed” will be compiled by my journey after I discovered and
    implemented the tools and techniques I use every day to deal with life’s
    let-downs. At this point in my life, I’ve discovered who I truly am and what
    path I need to follow in order to achieve all of my desires in life.
    “The Fruit” will be compiled by thoughts and retrospect after I’ve reached
    the current goals of my life’s journey. My life won’t have a finish line, but
    I’ve set a few major goals that will symbolise the end of an era of hard
    work, big obstacles and development. It will be the beginning of the next
    part of my life.
    So in a sense, you’re reading the first steps as to what made me “me”. I
    hope you’ll benefit from the lessons and insights and if you want to follow
    the development, there’s more books waiting to be written.
    I hope you’ll be able to use these principles in your own life. If you’re
    interested, you can try and influence your own life by using the techniques I
    use daily. There’s going to be a lot of clear and easy-to-implement tools,
    tips and techniques on, the site where I and others
    like me, will document what we do, what we’ve learned and our thoughts in
    Thank you so much for showing interest in this book. It means more to me
    than you can imagine, not only because you’re investing your time to read
    my insights and the events of my life, but because there’s a possibility that
    you’ll become part of the ever growing movement that ultimately will have a
    positive impact on our world.
    A Viking at heart
    I like vikings. I’ve always felt this passion. And those who know me are
    aware of this, because they always tag me in viking-related posts on social
    media, ask me when they have questions about the mythology and so on.
    In other words, I might be a tad more interested than the average person.
    To add to this, my life has a lot of events that are somehow directly linked
    to vikings.
    ● I met the love of my life at a viking festival, where Wardruna had a
    live show. Their music has played a big role in many events before
    and after the festival.
    ● My daughter is a direct result of that same festival and her middle
    name is Yggdrasil, which is also the name of the world tree in Norse
    mythology, in which all of the nine realms are situated.
    ● My oldest son is named Trym. My name is Tor… -Erik. In the
    mythology, Trym is a master thief and the king of the jǫtnar. At one
    point, he stole Mjølnir, Thor’s hammer, and Thor had to dress up like
    Freya in order to fool Trym and get his hammer back. The story didn’t
    end well for Trym. Luckily, me and my son have a better relationship.
    ● I was an extra in the Netflix show called Vikingane(Norsemen), where
    I met a bunch of other like minded enthusiasts.
    These are some of the events in my life that has included vikings and it
    could seem like I’m just fascinated with dressing up or listening to old norse
    music, but their way of life and the values they lived by is what truly got me
    Norway wasn’t always as “great” as it is today. It used to be a harsh
    country, where survival was a struggle. The comfort era hasn’t been around
    for more than a few decades, after we struck oil. Before this, people had to
    do what they needed to do in order to stay alive.
    That’s what most people associate with vikings. They fought, they burned
    down towns and villages, they sacked huge cities, they raped and so on.
    The only difference between then and now is what they did to stay in
    control of a territory. Today we have the internet and radio waves, so we
    can execute our strategies in a more efficient way. Back then, they did what
    they knew worked and fought hard to achieve it. They fought fearlessly,
    because their view on death was that of liberation and glory, not “the end”.
    They were farmers, trying to survive in rough conditions. You have to
    respect their way of thinking and the lengths they were willing to go in order
    to ensure the survival of their family.
    They had balls. BIG balls. They set out to the west to cross an ocean
    without knowing if there was land beyond the horizon. That takes a special
    kind of will and dedication.
    Faith, Honor and Discipline. They had massive faith in their own abilities
    and so they went in with 120% dedication. Few things will beat a mindset
    like that when you want to achieve success, both back then and now, in our
    time. To have the discipline to keep going, even when every atom of your
    body is screaming in pain and want to give up, is an immeasurable power.
    And the honor when you did something that others said was impossible, is
    I like vikings because of what they did when they had to do it. And the iron
    mentality they had when they went through it. Additionally, I love standing
    on a mountain top with a great view, knowing that the view was almost the
    same when they stood on that same mountain top, over a millennia ago.
    The geometry of our landscape and climate that has ruled our nation, has
    shaped us as humans. It has made us “Norsemen”.
    You’ve probably been vacationing somewhere and been able to see where
    people hail from by watching their behavior? This might be because of the
    genetic values that have been bestowed upon us by our ancestors, the
    climate and the general terrain of their country. The lessons that all
    ancestors from all across the globe learned, has been taught to their
    children and their grandchildren and so on. All the way down to you. Be
    proud of that, it’s a part of you.
    They learned valuable lessons through pain and suffering that they taught
    their descendants, so that they knew how to be ready for similar events,
    without having to experience the struggle. We all have painful events in our
    lives, but think about how much worse it would be if we didn’t have the
    knowledge from our ancestors.
    To add to this, there’s something called Gene-Drive. This means that if you
    have a gene variation in your DNA that can “mate” with a suitable variation
    in your partners’ genes, it can form a new mutation that will be transferred
    to your offspring. Your descendants will gain or lose gene variations
    according to matches or mismatches in the variations you and your
    ancestors share. That is a mouthful, I know, but it means that you are a
    direct product of your lineage.
    Inheritable changes in your genes could either be an “upgrade” or a
    disease that didn’t exist before the genes of your parents mixed. This
    resulted in a blood clot on my part, that has impacted big parts of my life.
    Science also tells us that trauma is genetically transferable. If you have an
    irrational fear of spiders, chances are that an ancestor of yours
    experienced a terrifying encounter with a spider. So impactful, that the
    person got shocked, started to cold sweat, got shivers and physically felt
    something change within them. By my own experiences, I feel this very
    distinguishable “tingling” whenever I have a life changing moment, for good
    as well as for bad.
    When you get shocked at this extreme level of magnitude, your genes
    remember it. I have a theory that if this is the case for trauma, then it
    should also work for extremely positive events. Like if you meet a stranger,
    and you have a strong feeling that you have met this person before, it might
    be linked to my theory. It might stretch across generations, which is what
    intrigues me the most.
    Let’s do a thought experiment; What if, a long time ago, before humanity
    had started to flourish, two people were sitting at a fire in their tribe. They
    connected and started sharing the essence of their being with each other.
    They shared intimate secrets, desires and fears and got to know each other
    on the deepest level imaginable. They hunted and foraged together, they
    laughed together, experienced terror and fear together and shared an
    unbreakable bond.
    Maybe they were so connected, that they could physically feel if the other
    one were in pain. And at the same time, that they could feel the love for
    each other on a much deeper level than that of the body. In other words,
    that they were soulmates.
    If we accept that strong bonds of kindness and positivity can be transferred
    in the same way that trauma can be transferred, then one has to wonder if
    our ancestors has laid the foundation for some relationships to be on the
    level of soulmates all the way down on the root level and that this
    relationship can be further built upon as we climb the family tree.
    Picture two family trees standing next to each other, where a very small
    amount of branches stretch across and interact with the branches of the
    other tree.
    TAG – Transfer of Ancestral Genechange, is what I call this. Because of it, I
    have my values from my parents and ancestors and will continue to refine
    these as I pass on a concentrated version to my descendants. I have
    experienced events that have forever changed me in my life. These
    lessons will be taught to my children early on, making them ready for
    similar events, so that they don’t have to go through the same pain that I
    had to experience in order to learn them. If this has been going on since
    the dawn of man and therefore, the vikings, I am who I am because of them
    and therefore my respect for them is so profound.
    My lineage is also one that has extremely interesting people in it. In recent
    times, an ancestor called Leonhard Seppola, saved a lot of people in
    Nome, Alaska in 1925 by delivering medicine with the use of sled dogs.
    The story is of such great magnitude that it sparked movies and even
    statues both in New York’s Central Park and Skibotn in Norway. The iron
    will of that man and sense of adventure is passed on to me and my
    descendants and I am eternally grateful to be a part of it. By the way, you
    should check out Disney’s “Togo, the untold true story” to fully understand
    what I mean.
    That’s why I like vikings and lessons bestowed by my ancestors.
    A clotted barricade
    When you go through events that literally shock your system to such a
    degree that you can feel the physical changes in your body, you’re often
    left with an “Aha” sensation. You’ll know how you will react and how to deal
    with similar events in your future, should those arise again.
    That’s the reason why I am so thankful for all the horrible and negative
    events that have happened throughout my life. Because I’ve learned so
    much more from them than I would learn if I never experienced such
    My first true life changing event happened in early 2005, in a town called
    Kvinesdal in Norway. I woke up to find my left arm 11 cm(4,3 inches) larger
    in circumference than my right arm. This level of difference looks very
    strange at first glance. Nobody knew what exactly had happened, either. I
    was an 18 year old boy with a mutated arm and no superpowers to show
    for it. After going to hospitals and doctor’s offices for a long time, there was
    a range of different explanations as to why my arm was like this. First there
    were allergies, then the flu, then it was an insect bite and so on. I’m pretty
    sure I was one google search away from the plague.
    I was sitting in my room on top of the garage and couldn’t do much more
    other than count the patterns in the wooden wall around me. I was just
    thinking. If I had taken up meditation back then, I could’ve actually achieved
    something, but my mind was young. After a few days in this solitary
    confinement, where the pain had only grown stronger and the pressure
    from inside the arm made my skin tighter, my mother saw that nothing was
    improving about my state, despite the medication and different assortments
    of pills I had been given. We went back to the doctor to do another
    The questions remained the same; unanswered. I don’t remember if I got a
    new kind of medication or what the educated guess was, but we were just
    as clueless when we got back home as we were when we left in search of
    The third time we went down to find answers, just shy of my arm
    developing a mind of its own, an old doctor passed the hallway outside the
    examination room where I was being studied. He looked at my arm and
    asked what had happened with great intrigue. The doctors went out into the
    hallway to discuss and came back a few minutes later. They told me that I
    had to get to the main hospital of the region – quickly. Like “Don’t mind the
    speed traps” -quickly.
    Me and my mother were sent by taxi to Kristiansand Main Hospital 1,5
    hours east of where we lived.. I can still remember the ancient driver when
    he exited the brand new Mercedes as we got stopped by road workers
    halfway there. He talked to the person in charge and within minutes we
    were on our way again, at blazing speed. I felt like a VIP in the backseat
    where I was drooling on the window, in a black Mercedes, driven by my
    own driver on a patch of freshly laid black tarmac.
    When we arrived at the hospital in the big city, I was received by awaiting
    doctors in white coats. Kind of like the show “E.R” or similar programs on
    TV. I was pushed into the building on a stretcher with two paramedics and
    a doctor running by the side of the bed. I pictured them yelling “20cc’s of
    Durex and a blowtorch, STAT!”. ( I haven’t seen a lot of those shows, so
    the actual phrase I imagined may vary wildly.)
    I was placed in a small examination room before I was going to an MRI
    scan. There’s not a lot of things that can kill a climax like the situation I had
    just been a part of. 4 minutes before this moment, I was sure that I was a
    goner. That I would be dead at arrival. I was fantasising about what
    procedures they would use in order to save my life. My brain had already
    made up a scenario and an expectation to the heroic work my lab coated
    protectors would undergo in order to save me. And I was kinda looking
    forward to seeing them in action.
    But when the door shut behind the paramedic and the doctor as they left
    the room a few seconds following my arrival, I actually felt disappointed.
    Disappointed that I wouldn’t get fixed right then and there, but still relieved
    that there was time to stow me in a locker for a few minutes. I’m not really
    sure if I spent the night in that hospital, I just remember the moment when it
    was confirmed that I had a blood clot. It was a sentence that had to be
    repeated a few times in order to process the information. I wasn’t even 20
    years old, so a blood clot is unheard of. “They have to get their shit
    together,” I thought.
    But despite my own perception of the reality that I had been served, the
    fact remained that I had a blood clot. I was watching as they inserted a
    needle that would inject cold contrast fluid into my veins. I could feel the
    fluid stop at a point in my arm, the pressure was building. On the screen,
    where the fluid had a neon green color, I couldn’t help thinking that this is
    what the hospital screens for superheroes looks like. It looked as if
    kryptonite was flowing through my veins, creating a web-like pattern inside
    my arm. I found it oddly cool, almost beautiful. And very interesting.
    This time, my transportation was not a taxi. I got rushed out of the hospital,
    into an ambulance and was transported in great speed to the airport, where
    a small plane awaited my arrival. If I was feeling like a VIP before, imagine
    my feelings about this! But the feeling was short-lived. If they wanted me to
    take tiny a plane to an even bigger hospital, the situation had to be be
    worse than I thought. I got even more scared as they put me into the plane.
    While I was lying there in a small bed onboard the aircraft, I was picturing a
    chubby kid controlling it from his backyard. Random, I know. I was also
    pondering exactly what had happened. “My life has changed,” I thought.
    Before this happened, I was getting ready to graduate in computer science.
    I was advancing in my life, getting an education and a job. Apparently, my
    life didn’t have the same plan.
    A short while after take-off, we landed in Oslo, the capital of Norway. I got
    transferred from my private plane and onto an ambulance that was waiting
    at the airstrip. It turned on the siren and emergency lights and we were off
    to the hospital, again at great speed. A tear manifested in my eye. I was
    having thoughts that I’d never had before. “Will I die? Is this the last time I
    get to see my family? Will people even remember me? What was the point
    of my time on earth? I didn’t get to do anything significant with my life.”
    At the hospital I was directed towards my ward. The Ward for Blood- and
    Cardiac Disease. They had taken some tests before I left southern Norway,
    that still awaited results when we departed. The receptionist looked at me
    funny. “You shouldn’t be able to stand there and talk to me!”
    It turns out that my CRP levels (the amount of bacterial reactions in my
    blood) were very elevated. Normally it is supposed to be around 5 and
    below. I was standing there with levels above 700. I was shocked, but at
    the same time, I felt immortal, because me standing there, kind of defied
    medical science in my mind. “Am I a superhero after all?” I pondered.
    I was guided to the room which was to be my home for the time being. I laid
    down on the bed, and stared at the ceiling. Most days were like this. I was
    just laying there. I couldn’t do much else with all the wires and tubes
    connected to my body.
    Every 4 hours, they drained my blood. I remember this particularly well.
    Because I had intravenous tubes in both of my arms, they had to take the
    blood from between my toes. I don’t recommend that, by the way. To wake
    up like that, when you’ve finally managed to fall asleep wasn’t awesome
    either. “This is my life,” I thought.
    During the next week I was in and out of the operation room. They inserted
    balloons to expand my veins, they administered a solution that was going
    to “melt” the clot away and they tested me constantly. The balloon didn’t do
    anything and the solution they gave me, which cost a staggering
    $100.000+, just made my urine smell really bad.
    After 2 weeks of this life, I was released. I celebrated my birthday in that
    bed and I lost the graduation. If it wasn’t for those around me, especially
    my mother, I’d be more broken than I was. She was an invaluable resource
    through the event. She also saved me with food. Hospital food is, as many
    know, not really great, so she smuggled in good food that she had
    prepared in the motel she stayed at while I was in the hospital.
    The time after the hospital was special. I had received a new life. I didn’t
    have a choice in the matter, because I was forced to get to know my “new”
    body again. The pain was unimaginable. The sensation in my arm was
    gone and I had to learn how to use it again.
    There was quite a lot of accidents in the time that followed. Sometimes I
    would keep my hand on something very hot for too long, cut myself,
    squeeze it in doors, hit it somehow, all without being aware that I was hurt.
    It was and is a pretty surreal experience.
    The only sensation I had left, was an extreme pain in the form of constant
    buzzing. This didn’t seem to be going away anytime soon. I just had to
    learn how to live with it. In doing so, I learned what I am capable of in
    situations of extreme pressure and stress.
    Time went by, as it does for all and the arm went from 11 cm( 4,3 inches)
    bigger, to taking this clay-like form, but with a whole lot of burst blood
    vessels, new veins and scarring. I was young, so I developed complexes
    because the way my arm looked. I hated it.
    My visits to the doctor was also something I had to get used to, because I
    got tested very frequently. Sometimes we had to drive 5 hours to the
    capital, just for a check-up. Luckily, most of my visits involved me testing
    my blood at the local doctor’s office. But I remember one of these trips
    particularly well.
    A few minutes after we’d left home, on our way to the hospital, I looked out
    the window from my seat. I put my head up against the glass and just
    watched nature fly by.
    It dawned on me that I would never be like everyone else and I just fell
    apart. I broke down in tears that I couldn’t control. The tears flowed down
    my cheek and I had a feeling of being cheated by life.
    These were emotions that I had never felt before. The pain I have to live
    with every day is so intense that I have to focus on the tasks at hand in
    order to function properly. I didn’t realise what this would do for the rest of
    my life. I didn’t realise that life had given me a sadistic gift of sorts.
    Through the course of this incredibly tough time of my life, I’d gained a new
    perspective. I’d also gained a new, huge threshold for physical pain,
    because few things could measure up to the constant pain I felt every
    waking moment of my day.
    This made me able to focus on one task and put all other non-constructive
    thoughts away, like an anchor if my thoughts began to wander. I
    experienced an insane productive drive, so the pain had actually done
    something transformative and positive about the way I think as time went
    by. If I got hurt or went in to a “painstate”, I could dive into my mind and
    basically think the pain away. This turned out to be quite the superpower,
    or as I was going to learn, a sort of meditation.
    When I had good days, where the pain wasn’t as consistent, I enjoyed
    everything that happened through a new lens. I appreciated the calm I was
    able to enjoy, which made me eternally grateful for normal everyday
    The pain and fear had also given me a new perspective on death. I was
    told that because of the clot’s rarity, both in placement and nature, I was
    more fragile than most people. One solid hit to the head could mean my
    death. One small cut in my body could leave to bleed out and die, because
    the medication I need to take for the rest of my life thins out the blood,
    making it hard to stop once it starts flowing. Imagine the first time I sliced
    my ear as I was shaving and blood gushed everywhere. That was
    I need to regulate the thickness of my blood to ensure it’s passage
    throughout my body. This makes me bleed a whole lot more than normal
    people, should I cut myself.
    So, I gained the aforementioned new perspective on death. I didn’t fear
    death, rather I lived as if everyday could be my last. I woke up with
    immense gratitude each morning. I didn’t have time for hate or problems
    that weren’t serious, which to be honest, are most problems.
    If I have $86.400 in the bank and I lost $10, why would I let that impact the
    remaining $86.390? That was the mentality I gained about the 86.400
    seconds we are given every single day.
    I enjoy them to the fullest and I use them to gain control over my life and
    But all of these new perspectives didn’t do much about the clot itself. I tried
    working a whole bunch of jobs, which all ended up in me having to resign
    or the boss realising that it could look bad for the company if I should die on
    the job. I struggled with assignments that included the use of my arm. After
    more jobs that I can remember, I started to give up.
    I began drinking a lot. Each weekend, I had a party at my place, the small,
    crooked and foul smelling storehouse I lived in. I didn’t care about anything.
    What was the worst thing that could happen? It turns out that the worst
    thing was actually a lot worse than I could ever have imagined.
    The encounter that changed everything
    After a long period of time, where my life basically revolved around partying
    and reckless behaviour, I met someone from my past. A brush with destiny,
    as it would turn out to be.
    I was driving my mom and aunt around as a designated driver. They rarely
    went out, so it was my pleasure.
    As I turned into the parking lot of the local watering hole, I saw a guy that
    I’d rather not have spoken to, because of our history. Despite my wishes,
    he saw me and came over to the car and as if we’d already decided to
    meet again, he said we had to grab a beer or 10 someday soon.
    I didn’t really think much about it, because that is what my life looked like at
    the time, so one more person wouldn’t hurt, even though he wasn’t the best
    company according to my memory. He was wild, spontaneous and erratic.
    We started to hang in my storehouse. This sounds like a fancy place to live,
    but it’s basically a shack that was rather unbalanced and lopsided on top of
    four stone columns. A creek ran beneath it and if I flushed the toilet and ran
    fast enough, I could see my poo exiting the unfinished pipe under the floor
    and fall into the creek. Yeah, not really romantic.
    We invited people over to party all the time and drank constantly. When
    you’ve dipped your toe into the kind of irresponsible behaviour that I carried
    out, it wouldn’t take a lot to take it to the next level. I thought things couldn’t
    get worse than what they already were.
    We started driving under the influence. He drove as if he’d stolen the car
    and the gas inside it. He had no sense of consequence and I was often
    terrified, where I’d squeeze the handle above the passenger door to stay in
    place in my seat. We drove way too fast and headed up a long road in the
    hills outside of town. Without warning, he pulled the handbrake and sent
    the car skidding sideways up the hill.
    I swallowed my heart as we stopped. He was laughing in his seat and
    started to adjust the car’s direction to go back down. This was going to be a
    habit. Every time he pulled a stunt, I lost more and more of the fear I felt the
    first time.
    We began to gather people at the industrial area in town, to drive like
    madmen as a crowd. I even started driving myself. At one point I pushed
    the car to its limits and sent it through a small opening that was just big
    enough for the car to pass through. Right before the opening, there was a
    small 45 degree incline that worked as a launchpad because of the speed
    of the car.
    With a video recorder in one hand and eyes focused, I hit that launchpad
    with such speed and force that both me and the Nissan Sunny went
    soaring through the air. I was really drunk. Everything played in
    slow-motion inside the car. A few seconds passed before I landed hard on
    the asphalt and tried to regain control over the car.
    When I’d finally managed to stop, I was “parked” behind a tree. We were all
    scratching our heads, because I’d just broken a few laws of physics. There
    was no way that it should even be possible. But, drunk as we were, we
    didn’t think about the fact that I’d probably just fooled death. We just kept
    on doing what we did.
    A little while later, we’d managed to get the car out from behind the tree
    and were gathered on the parking lot. I was still holding the camera and
    filming as the night came to an abrupt end.
    My “companion” had jumped into the car and started to burn out the tires.
    As he didn’t own any sense of consequence, he didn’t pay attention to what
    he was doing. He didn’t see me.
    I was standing out to the right in front of the car and had started to move
    towards the crowd, passing the front of the car in the middle of the burnout.
    Then he released the brake. The car shot out of its place, hit me and sent
    me flying sideways a few feet before smacking me down onto the
    pavement, full force.
    The pain from the impact mixed with the pain I was feeling everyday, and I
    felt like passing out. The adrenaline was throbbing throughout my body and
    for some reason I didn’t want to look like a pussy in front of the crowd, so I
    got back on my feet. I was in severe pain, so I said I was going home. It
    wasn’t until I got home that I realised what the car had done in those few
    My entire left side was bloodied after I’d been grinded across the asphalt.
    The adrenaline started to let off and I could feel the pain really kicking in. I
    was forced to lie in bed for several days, not able to move. This gave me a
    lot of time to think and I stopped the reckless behaviour that I’d been a part
    of for so long.
    But time heals all wounds, they say. After a while I wasn’t thinking about it
    anymore and I went back to partying. -with him.
    The flame that destroyed and started my life
    We were drinking and listening to loud music of exceptionally horrible
    quality and taste. I was gaming on my relatively new Playstation 3. I was
    pretty proud of it, even though the story of how I got it wasn’t exactly
    something to brag about.
    I bought it on credit, without thinking about the consequences it would have
    on my finances and was rescued by my grandfather when I realised I
    couldn’t pay for it. Really responsible, in other words.
    My party companion said he’d like one for himself. But he didn’t want to buy
    one. He wanted to steal one. Also very responsible.
    “It’s easy! We’ll head over to the electronics store, break the window and
    be gone before anyone knows we’re there!” he said confidently and
    arrogantly. I didn’t have any interjections, because I knew that if I didn’t go
    along, he’d just do it by himself. A small part of me wish I never went along,
    but if what was about to happen, never happened, I wouldn’t be who I am
    today. So at the same time, I value the lessons I learned from this
    We walked towards the store that was about 600ft away from where I lived.
    Soon we were thinking about how we’d get through the front door’s plated
    After a little while, we figured we’d go in through the back because there
    would be less potential witnesses. A win-win, in our minds. It was around
    2am in the morning and pitch black.
    Behind the building, we saw that the taxi central had full view of the area
    we were in, so we had to distract them. We figured the best solution was to
    pick up the phone and order a cab fare some distance from where we
    were, so we sent it about 40 minutes out of town.
    “Now that the taxi’s gone, we’re still faced with one problem. When we
    breach the door, the alarm will go off and the cops will be notified,” he said.
    I had to agree. We needed a solution.
    The phone re-appeared, but this time, we removed the SIM card in order to
    hide our identity for the emergency central. At least, that’s what we thought.
    He called the norwegian equivalent of 911 and said that there’d been an
    accident some distance from where we were. Not just an accident, he
    added that there’d been fatalities, just to be sure the resources were
    focused towards that area.
    A few minutes later, we heard sirens and emergency vehicles responding
    to the call. It sounded like everything from the doctor’s office to emergency
    helicopters got summoned. Turns out, that’s exactly what happened,
    because of the severity of the call. All of the emergency response units got
    In other words, our plan had worked. With newfound energy, we slammed
    a huge flower pot against the plate window. Nothing happened. We did it
    again and again. Our arms were hurting, but this window seemed to be
    “The mall,” he said suddenly. “Why? They don’t sell PS3’s in that mall. I
    know this because I planned to buy mine there before I was told to go
    here,” I answered.
    My words fell on deaf ears. He wanted to check it out, with or without me. I
    figured he’d do this one alone, but I followed him over there just to keep
    him company. I sat down on a stack of pallets that was placed up against
    the wall. I sat there for what seemed like ages as I sipped my Old Danish
    liquor and smoked a cigarette.
    I could hear loud bangs and cursing from time to time from where I was
    sitting. He didn’t have much luck with Operation Console then, I thought. I
    started to get bored. It had been at least 10 minutes, where I just sipped my
    booze and stared into nothingness. I was bored out of my mind. This is
    another perfect situation where I’d benefit from meditation if I had been
    practicing it. To get bored after 10 minutes is a sign of poor creativity.
    I studied the pallet I was sitting on and started to prod the splinters in the
    wood. I was pulling splinters and trying to make them as long as possible
    without ripping them off. This too quickly evolved to being boring. I re-lit the
    cigarette that had died in my boredom. After sparking new life to it, I was
    still holding the lighter. I started to burn off the small splinters that was
    sticking out of the planks.
    As I watched the splinter burning like a match, the mastermind rounded the
    corner. “THINK FAST!” he shouted. As I turned my attention towards the
    sound of his voice, I could see a red box of sorts flying towards me. He had
    thrown something from the corner 16ft away. I couldn’t see what it was until
    it landed and slid across the area in front of me. A red 5 litre gascan. To
    add icing to the cake, it was opened and there were gas everywhere.
    It had been flung from the can as it flew through the air and spread gas
    from the opening. It hit me, the stack of pallets I was sitting on and had
    spilled some between me and him. In my drunken state and after several
    months of reckless behaviour, I didn’t think much at all as the lighter came
    in contact with a small puddle at my feet. Because I was ashamed and
    afraid to admit it, I’ve always told this part of the story slightly different.
    I used to say that the can came flying, hit the stack where I was still sitting
    and got ignited by the match flame on top of the pallets. I guess I said this
    to mask my own responsibility in all this. But with time, I’ve experienced
    things that have changed my view on honesty and self respect. To own my
    own shortcomings have healed both my body and soul, my moral code,
    people’s opinions towards me and my attitude towards everything.
    I stood up after I’d lit a small puddle on fire. A puddle I thought was
    separate from the rest of the gas. It was so late that it was early dawn and
    very dark. This made me unable to see how much gas that had actually
    been spread. Before I knew it, I was standing in the middle of a flaming
    inferno. My shoe was burning, the lower part of my pants was burning. I
    panicked and put out the fire before it ruined my clothes or worse; burned
    me. But as I was focused on my pants and shoes, I didn’t see what else the
    fire had swallowed. It was more than the little puddle I had intended to
    I looked up and saw that the entire stack was burning, behind a small
    ocean of flames. The panic intensified 100-fold. “RUN!” I shouted. To my
    surprise, he was already gone. He had bolted towards the city center, so I
    ran after him and looked behind me as I saw the stack of pallets getting
    turned into embers. “I just can’t get caught setting fire to pallets!” I thought.
    We ran through the entire town, which took around 6 minutes, we ran
    around the blocks and headed towards my house. As we crossed the final
    street, I saw a huge hue of orange light that couldn’t be explained by pallets
    alone. This had turned into something so much worse. We got into the
    entrance hallway and headed to the living room, tired, out of breath and
    scared. “What the fuck have we done??” I asked him. “Nothing… We were
    never there. All tracks have been covered,” he responded.
    This is where my memory gets slightly foggy, probably because of the
    adrenaline and shock that had taken control over my body, but we figured
    we had to see what happened. We changed clothes and headed back to
    the mall. I know, It’s cliché and I have thought about it a lot in the time that
    followed. “They always return to the crime scene.”
    When we arrived at the building that houses several small shops and a bar,
    everything was ablaze. Literally everything. Maybe you thought that
    concrete won’t burn? Well, if it’s hot enough, it seems like it does. The fire
    department was working hard to kill the intensity of the flames that was a
    direct result of our drunken stupidity. We asked one of them if he knew
    what had happened, mostly to see if we had gotten away with it. They only
    knew that someone had set something on fire behind the building.
    So there we were, guilty of setting fire to this mall, while watching brave
    personnel risking their lives trying to put it out. The police had evacuated
    nearby houses because of the hazardous smoke. They were back from the
    emergency call, probably unhappy about it being fake. We had done so
    many horrible things to so many people in just a matter of hours. Today,
    that makes me sick to my stomach.
    I’m not sure how long we stood there, but eventually we started going back
    to the house. He went back to his place and I went to bed, although sleep
    was a rare animal to find that night.
    A few hours later, there was a loud knocking coming from the front door. I
    might have slept for 1 hour max. I dragged myself out of bed, still reduced
    from the night before. It was early sunday morning. I peeked out the kitchen
    window to see if I could spot who it was, and lo and behold, uniforms. I
    panicked as I realised that the police were waiting for me to open the door.
    I tried to stay calm, composed myself and proceeded to greet them, as
    casually as I could.
    “Hi, we’re from the police and we’ve heard that you were observed at the
    mall fire last night,” one of the officers said. I had to collect myself and my
    thoughts for a moment. How could they know that? Then it hit me like a
    lightning strike. He used my sweater when we were there. The reason as to
    why that is an important detail, is because the chest of that sweater said
    “Sleepy Seppola”. I had found a print on demand store online and bought a
    custom sweater, thinking it was awesome to never forget what my name
    was! What a stupid idea! And because there’s a very tiny amount of people
    with my surname, the equation to find me had very few factors.
    “You need to come down to the station with us for questioning,” the officer
    continued. I nodded and went back inside to get dressed, thinking “what the
    actual fuck is happening? What have we done?!” I followed them outside,
    crossed the little bridge over my personal shit creek and we drove to the
    police station downtown, about 2 minutes away. This is a tiny town, by the
    way. It can be crossed diagonally in a matter of minutes on foot.
    At the station, I could hear the voice of the mastermind coming from a few
    rooms down the hall. “They know,” I thought to myself. This was my first
    official encounter with law enforcement where I was the suspect of
    something really serious. For the mastermind, this was a normal sunday,
    as far as I know. I got placed in a small office, with an officer sitting across
    the desk.
    “So, what happened last night?” he asked me, as his eyes pierced my very
    soul. They were so focused, it was creepy. “Nothing much, really…. We
    had a party and drank for most of the night. Then we heard sirens and
    wanted to know what was going on, because I live right around the corner
    from the mall..” The officer looked at his computer for a minute, then turned
    his gaze back at me, leaned forward and replied “Are you 100% sure about
    Remember that I had never been engaged with the law in this way before,
    so I was thinking like crazy. Then, after a few minutes, he broke the
    silence; “If you help us, we’ll help you. We just want to get to the bottom of
    this. Accidents happen to the best of us.” I had seen enough cop shows to
    know that sometimes, they reduce your sentence if you help them solve the
    case. I was thinking for what seemed like several eternities. Suddenly there
    was a knock on the door, which scared the living hell out of me. It was my
    mom. She had heard that we were taken by the cops and had gone straight
    down to the station.
    After talking with her for a few minutes, I had reached a decision. I’d been
    thinking alot in the office about potential consequences for my words, given
    the circumstance. I’d started thinking about just coming clean about my role
    in all of it and my mom made me see that clearly, so I went for it.
    “I’ll tell you everything that I had a part of,” I told the officer. Because we
    were never the most perfect bunch of kids, the police knew us intimately.
    I’d never been in a situation like this, but our history made the conversation
    a lot friendlier than it might have been, had we been goody two shoes and
    never dealt with the police before. I felt like I was doing the right thing.
    After several hours in that office, I had explained everything that I did the
    night before. The break-in attempt, the emergency call and the fire. The call
    came from my phone too.
    I had done whatever I could to not implement the mastermind, by strictly
    admitting and explaining what I did, personally. I had the right to stay silent,
    so I wasn’t forced to tell them any names when they asked. But he was
    detained and questioned nonetheless, because he was observed with me
    at the scene.
    After a long while in a tiny room that only had space for a chair, I got
    handcuffed in the back of the police van with the mastermind. I kept
    thinking that this had to be a bad dream. “Did you tell them anything?” he
    asked. I looked at him with a dead stare and said “I spent a long time
    thinking about lies and stories that would convince them and let me free,
    but in the end, me and mom figured I’m better off saying it as it is. So I
    gave them the entire story, but I didn’t mention your name or anything that
    could link you to it, if that’s what you’re asking.” He smiled and replied;
    “Good. I refused to say anything to them.”
    I felt rage inside me and I pictured breaking the glass window with his face.
    Did I just spend the better part of a day, explaining my entire role in burning
    down a fucking mall, call in a fake emergency call and attempting to break
    into an electronics store, all by my lonesome, even if none of the things I
    had just admitted to was my idea? He was sharing the car with me, so the
    police must’ve had doubts about him. I was emerged in my thoughts for the
    entire drive to the prison, as I observed the freedom in the cars behind me
    as they drove on to their destinations. I never truly appreciated the freedom
    we all have.
    At the prison, we had to wait for ages in order to be processed. Then they
    escorted me up some old concrete stairs, into a hallway shaped like an
    arch in bricks. This prison was ancient. The door to my cell opened and
    they led me inside. As the door slammed shut behind me, creaking in the
    old metal and leaving a deep, rumbling echo down the hall outside, I felt
    empty. There I was, in a small cell in a prison, 3 hours from my home, with
    a small desk, a tiny bed and a 15” old tv. I turned it on and as I flipped
    through the channels, most of them showed the news, regarding the still
    burning mall I was in custody for. “What the hell have I done,” I thought, as
    I saw the damages of the fire, live in front of me. The roof had collapsed
    because of the intense heat, caving in the entire mall and destroying
    everything inside.
    “Millions In Damage Lost In The Fire” went across the screen constantly, as
    if to remind me that my life was officially over. I got word that I had been
    appointed a lawyer in the midst of all this. A lawyer I’d never met, but he
    still went out to the media and proclaimed that his client will be a debt
    victim for the rest of his life. That message didn’t really do much good for
    my already broken mind.
    Every prisoner in there knew what I had done. They all saw the news and
    news in general travels quickly in prison. I wanted to sink into the ground
    and never speak to anyone ever again. But after a little while, I had gotten
    used to the routines, the people and the environment. This “New Life” of
    mine. I tried to be social, get some air and eat some food.
    A week or so after, surrounded by twisted barbed wire on top of tall
    concrete walls, I got word that the mastermind had been released. My
    worst fear had come true, I was in this by myself. All the responsibility fell
    on me. I went to a very, very dark place in my mind and I can still
    remember the feeling across my body and mind, as I changed my reality. I
    was picturing, almost fantasizing about the things I would do to him, should
    I ever meet him again. I was a completely different person, compared to the
    one my family and friends knew from before. The thoughts and desire to
    inflict massive pain on him, scared me to the core. I even asked the
    veterans in the prison about how I could make him disappear.
    After 13 days, I was told that I was being released. I didn’t know how to
    react, because everything pointed towards the fact that I wasn’t seeing
    freedom anytime soon. My mom came and picked my up at the prison and
    we headed home. Finally, I thought. I told her what had happened, my
    thoughts towards the mastermind, how I never should’ve told the truth and
    about what awaited me after the trial. This was a completely new life.
    Some days went by before I truly came to grips with what had happened.
    The night of the fire and the future ahead was on my mind constantly.
    Every time I left my house, I got reminded about the incident. The ruins that
    was left from my drunken accident served as an anchor to the memories of
    that fateful night. People I met on the street would cross it to avoid me.
    When I was about to pay for some groceries at one time, the teller looked
    at me and said “Thank you for burning down my workplace,” with a judging
    stare. I had ruined my life, and to make matters worse, people actually
    thought that I’d done it intentionally.
    As time went by, I became more and more used to this new person I had to
    be. I was no longer the happy guy that people used to know. I was a
    shunned criminal, judged by most people I interacted with. One day I met
    an old acquaintance on the bus and we began talking. Shortly after the
    conversation had started, the fire was brought up, as always. But he didn’t
    react like most others. Quite the contrary, he was interested in what I had
    to say.
    The robbing spree
    We started hanging out more and more frequently. We drank and partied
    together, kind of like I did before everything happened. But this time, I
    enjoyed the company. I finally had someone to actually talk to and hang out
    with. Someone who matched the person I had become. Someone with their
    own stories. We became a team. A team that carried out criminal acts
    One thing led to another and it didn’t take long before we were selling
    cannabis and lived as we saw fit. Young and reckless. I didn’t smoke
    cannabis at this time in my life and I lived by the rule; “Don’t get high on
    your own supply.” The few times I actually did smoke or partake, I ended
    up on the bathroom floor like a sweaty, unattractive pile of clothing. It
    wasn’t something I enjoyed, so I steered clear most of the time.
    Additionally, I’d been to Germany 6 years prior, as a young, innocent boy. I
    helped the son of my mom’s boss with the importation of cars from
    Germany to Norway. He was an addict and brought me along on things that
    a boy at that age really shouldn’t be a part of at all. I was told to try a bunch
    of substances, which I quickly realised were narcotics. Ecstasy, cocaine
    and weed, mostly. They thought it was hilarious. One night, I was lying on
    the bed in the motel, unable to move any part of my body. I was completely
    paralysed. I laid there, listening to my “step-brother” bragging to his friend
    about how he was having sex with my girlfriend back home behind my
    back. The girl I lost my virginity to, so she was very special to me at that
    point in my life. While listening to him talking about it in great detail, I
    couldn’t react, no matter how much I wanted to. I just had to lie there and
    listen to what he and my girlfriend had been doing in the shadows behind
    my back, sometimes with nothing more than a wall between us. This was
    the first really deep betrayal of my life. In that moment, I swore that
    narcotics were not for me.
    Back to the time after the fire with my new friend. We were living like kings.
    We had money and no boundaries. It didn’t take long until the
    entrepreneurial spark lit up in both of us. We had to have more, but how
    should we go about getting more? We didn’t have a sense of
    consequences and we did as we pleased. Today, I’m surprised by how
    easily we did a lot of the things we did. To be saturated by negativity to that
    extent, where we didn’t care at all about what we did, regardless of pain
    inflicted on to other people, is a mentality I’m never going to indulge in ever
    We got contacted by someone who had heard about our behaviour. They
    had an idea regarding how to get money. Armed robbery. It seemed like
    the easiest and quickest way to get more money for people like us, so we
    started laying the plan.
    The person worked at a road diner and he told us that there was a lot of
    money there. We could cooperate and make good money in one night.
    That sounded like a good deal for us, so we added some details to the
    plan, like the escape route, how much time we needed, who does what,
    what to do if we got spotted and so on.
    A few days later, it was time to carry out the plan. We agreed to send a text
    message that included an invitation to a party, where we asked if the
    person had some shot glasses we could use.. 1 shot glass meant
    10.000NOK, or around $1100. The message got sent and we waited.
    “I think I have 5 glasses you can borrow,” was the answer. That seemed
    like a good haul for a few hours of work. We left our phones at home to
    avoid being triangulated in the investigation, so we had done our
    homework. We got into my old VW Passat and drove through the woods to
    avoid being photographed in the toll booths.
    We listened to “gangster music” on the way there to get fired up and ready
    for what we were about to do. This was my first time carrying out something
    criminal like this. Not only criminal, but serious and planned. It was like a
    movie! I was nervous, but I didn’t have any doubts as to what we were
    about to do.
    We arrived at the location, a lonely diner, next to a highway with little traffic
    in the middle of the night. They were closing the diner as we arrived, just
    like we were told. The plan was to go in through the backdoor, because the
    main entrance should be locked. We got ready in the car and covered our
    faces with masks. “We’re actually doing this,” I thought to myself.
    As we crossed the little patch of grass between the back entry and the
    road, we saw a semi truck parked in front of the building, probably resting
    up before heading out in the morning. It concerned me slightly, but I quickly
    brushed it off, because our plan didn’t involve any noise that could arouse
    suspicion. Additionally, our inside man said that he was there alone that
    night, so it was a simple transaction and only for show.
    We knocked on the door and waited. We could hear voices coming from
    the inside. Voices, as in plural. That was not the plan we all agreed on.
    Now I started to get really nervous, because with that detail, everything had
    changed, but we didn’t have time to react accordingly before the door
    opened. We went into autopilot and shoved our companion into the back
    room, while shouting “This is a robbery!” We were speaking english, to
    further decrease our chances of being identified. My fears were confirmed
    the moment we got inside, he was not working alone. In the main room of
    the diner, a woman was cleaning the floor. “Now what?!” I thought.
    Everything went really fast and suddenly I was holding our inside man in a
    chokehold. We ordered the other person to the back room and said that we
    really didn’t want to hurt anyone, but we were fully capable if we had to.
    Scared and shocked, we got them into the bathroom all the way in the
    back. We found some tape and secured them to the radiator and the toilet.
    While my partner checked the building for the “shot glasses”, I told them
    that we’re not dangerous, even if the mask and the gun told a completely
    different story. As long as they did as they were told, nothing bad would
    happen. I kept going in english and I told them that I knew where they lived.
    Everything was still on autopilot and went by really fast. In hindsight, I can’t
    imagine the trauma and fear that the innocent person had to be going
    through at that moment. I’ve thought about it extensively in the years that
    followed and had to go deep inside myself to figure out how I was able to
    be so cruel towards another human being. I’ve found no answer, other than
    how I was corrupted by money and the power I experienced because of it.
    We finished up and left the scene with less than 5.000NOK, not even $600.
    We had potentially ruined a life for less than 600 bucks! We ran across the
    patch of grass, crossed the road towards the car, got in and hurried the
    same way back at high speed. The adrenaline was coursing through my
    body. The police could appear behind us at any moment, because we
    didn’t know if the plan had worked. Or rather, our improvised plan.
    We got back to town and drove up into the woods to burn the evidence.
    Later that night, safely at home, I was just sitting on the couch and stared
    into the ceiling. “What exactly happened tonight?” I thought.
    When we had calmed down and processed what we’d done, the days
    started to return to normal again. We hadn’t been contacted by the police
    and according to the newspaper, they didn’t know who were responsible for
    the act of cruelty in the diner that night. I felt really bad as I read the
    statements from the victim. How the experience had changed everything
    and how the days had been after the robbery. The person had been
    diagnosed with PTSD because of us. Our partner got interviewed too, but
    the statement painted a completely different picture of the situation. As if
    what had happened was cool! I got sick to my stomach. Who had I
    become? What happened to the person I used to be?
    It didn’t take long until robbery was back on the agenda. This time we had
    to be sure that we’d actually leave with a worthy stack of money. We
    thought about what places would house the amount we “needed” in order
    for it to be worth it. Some random people had been talking about how
    buses carry a lot of cash and that they put it in a safe at the end of the day.
    A safe that doesn’t get emptied very often. We had a new plan; The bus
    We didn’t plan it as well as we did the first one. We knew that the drivers
    get to work early and since we didn’t follow a normal sleep pattern, there
    was no problem waiting for them to get to work. After a short wait at around
    5am in the morning, we saw headlights turning into the parking lot.
    As soon as the driver had unlocked the door, we marched up behind him
    and said “This is a robbery, kindly walk calmly inside and nobody will get
    hurt.” One has to wonder why these sentences got used so frequently.
    Maybe a lot of movies have planted them deep in our brains somehow.
    We escorted him into the building and shut the door behind us. We guided
    him down the hallway and spotted the safes in a room to the right, with the
    toilets to the left. We went left and told him to sit down on the floor, so that
    we could secure him to the stall. As soon as he was secured, we asked for
    the codes for the safes. He said he couldn’t give us anything, because he
    didn’t have access to them. No matter how many times we asked, he didn’t
    budge. After a few minutes, we realised that we’re not getting anywhere
    with him, so we stood up and got ready to leave. As I approached the exit, I
    heard his voice behind me say “Jesus loves you.” I was lost for words. The
    only thing I could think of as a response was, “He loves you too.”
    I’m not religious, but this man had been tied down in a small room with two
    armed robbers and stood his ground. Not only that, he even managed to
    tell us that Jesus loves us, a sentence that came from love and
    compassion for his fellow humans. If we jump ahead in time, after the trials
    and prison, I found out that he could’ve in fact opened the safes. But he
    stood his ground and protected the assets of the company he worked for. If
    that was because of his undying faith to his deity or if it was because he
    didn’t feel any fear, I don’t know, but I have an enormous respect for that
    man now. His courage was inspiring.
    [To the victims.
    I hope you read this book, so that you know what happened, what went
    through my mind as it happened and what I’ve thought about you in the
    time that followed. The same goes for the person who worked at the diner.
    It was never the intention that you were going to be a part of it at all and I
    am deeply sorry, from the bottom of my heart, about what you went
    through. I hate the person I was back then and I can’t understand how I
    could be in such a dark place in my mind, that I was able to carry out the
    things I am writing about in this book. I have much respect for the both of
    you and I hope you have recovered from the tough times in your life that
    would never had happened, if it wasn’t for me.
    If you want to contact me for a sincere apology face to face, send an email
    to I haven’t reached out myself, simply because I
    didn’t want to force myself back into your lives and memories in case you
    never want to see me again. If that is the case, I understand 100%.]
    After we left the bus station empty handed, we drove home. We discussed
    what we had just witnessed as something truly weird. At that time, I didn’t
    have empathy for others, so I didn’t appreciate how amazing that moment
    was in regards to human kindness and not the horrible act we were there to
    carry out. We had witnessed something truly unique.
    Once again, we kept on living as we normally did. We read the papers and
    saw that the police still didn’t have any clues. Or they might have had a
    bunch, but waited for us to do more stupid acts before arresting us. At that
    time though, we thought we were pretty good at this.
    We were still in “need” of money. Not that we had little, but we wanted
    more, so we wanted to change that. In fact, that is another thing I can’t
    wrap my head around. Today, we’ve survived on $20 a week to keep food
    on the table, but back then, money was spread all over the place and still
    we wanted more. The more I write in this book, the more sick I get to my
    stomach when I think about the person I was back then.
    We got contacted by someone who owed us money. We were getting quite
    the reputation on the streets, so people reached out often. What surprises
    me, is what we demanded in order to clear the debt. “Use this mask and
    these gloves, then head over to the fast-food joint and get all the money
    and some smokes. Then we’ll help you out.” Yeah, we wanted this person
    to carry out a robbery for us. That’s how normal this was to us at that point.
    We stayed put in the car, a small distance from the fast-food joint and
    talked about this as if it was nothing. We even laughed as we talked about
    how easy it was to get people to do stuff. Once again, I feel that sickening
    feeling in my stomach as I write this.
    All of a sudden, the person was back in the car. Things had not gone as
    planned, but we did get a few packs of smokes. Because I didn’t carry out
    the robbery myself and therefore, didn’t see exactly what happened there, I
    won’t write about speculations in this book. This is to ensure that the stories
    remain true and won’t get twisted by personal points of view.
    By now we had carried out three armed robberies, where one of them
    happened because we made someone do it for us. Again, I want to grab
    this opportunity to sincerely apologise to the people that worked in that joint
    and of course to the person we pushed to carry out the robbery. I said that
    at the trial too, but only to the victims, as I had no feelings towards the
    You might be thinking; “If the police didn’t have any clues and you were
    that “good”, how did you get caught?” Well, loose lips sink ships. Today, I’m
    happy we got caught, because I’ve grown tremendously through the
    lessons and knowledge I’ve gained. But at the time, I felt a type of rage that
    was utterly terrifying. I really don’t know what I would’ve done if I met the
    person in that state of mind. Our inside man from the first robbery had been
    going around at school, bragging to his friends about being part of the
    robbery. In a case this high profile, the police jumped on every clue like
    ants to honey. It didn’t take long to connect the dots after they broke him.
    Thus, we got caught.
    The arrest
    I was driving my girlfriend at the time to the bus station. She was just
    staying with me occasionally and was heading home for a little while. As we
    withdrew money for the bus at an ATM a little distance from the station, we
    had a clear view to where she was going to be dropped off. We also saw
    the bus, which was currently leaving the station. Additionally, we saw a
    police van.
    “Hehe, look who’s here! If they only knew…,” I said as I noticed it, still as
    arrogant as ever.
    I started heading towards the exit where the bus came from. As I found
    myself on the main road, I could see that it was already too late, the bus
    has left, so I had to figure out where to stop it down the road. I pushed the
    pedal to the metal and passed the bus, then I kept going for quite a
    distance west-bound.
    A few seconds after I’d passed it, I noticed another car in the mirror doing
    the same thing. I didn’t really think about it, but I could tell that the car was
    closer than the average car, not to mention that I was going pretty fast at
    the moment. I drove even faster, as did the car behind me. We were going
    way over the limit, so I was wondering why it didn’t just pass me, because
    of the ample opportunities to do so. The suspicion had begun to grow in my
    A little ways ahead, there was a bus stop and I started to slow down and
    make the turn. I got out of the car and started to wave at the bus to make it
    stop.The car behind me had done the same thing and was now parked
    behind my car. Before I knew what had happened, there were three police
    cars, one police van and the civilian cops in the car behind me.
    The bus stopped and in that same moment, a matter of seconds, I got
    swarmed by armed police in swat gear and MP5’s. My brother and my
    girlfriend were still in the car and as she stepped out, I was being cuffed
    behind my back up against the bus, while everyone on it were staring out
    the window. I looked at my girlfriend, gave her a kiss and said “I’ll call you
    as soon as I can.. I’m sorry.”
    Everyone on the bus had moved seats to see what happened outside.
    Again, I’d like to seize the opportunity to apologize. She had to be on that
    bus for several hours, knowing that everyone knew what had happened to
    her good for nothing boyfriend. I can’t even imagine the shame she must’ve
    felt. I am so, so sorry.
    I looked at my brother who said he’d do what he could about my car. This
    shocked him too, of course. The police seized the car and drove it to the
    station. I won’t say too much about this bit either, because I wasn’t there
    personally. I was in the back of the police van, being taken to a cell
    awaiting questioning.
    There’s many foggy patches in my memory surrounding this time, because
    I was in a state of shock. I was really not expecting to get caught, but the
    cops are pretty smart. Also, in hindsight, I was pretty stupid. The
    interrogations were frequent and long. I got placed in a drunk tank by
    myself in the city while the massive investigation were being undertaken. I
    was there for well over a week, without knowing what time it was or what
    had happened to those I cared about.
    I got a tad insane by all this. After everything was over, I was told what the
    rules are, regarding isolation and human rights. Turns out that Norway
    were pretty notorious for disregarding those rules, often leaving people to
    their own devices to the brink of insanity. I was there about 3x the amount
    they were allowed to keep me there, without transferring me to a proper
    cell. Still, I’m glad I was there for so long. Without knowing it, I was
    introduced to a form of meditation. I learned to start living more in my head
    and they couldn’t take that away.
    I denied every accusation in the interrogations. I’d learned from my
    mistakes from the first time I was helping the police screw me over. This
    time, I was in control. They did have a pretty clear image about what had
    happened though, because of other people talking, but I stood my ground.
    Because I didn’t speak, they prolonged my stay in the cell to make me
    After what felt like an eternity, where I’d been standing naked on my head,
    singing the national anthem more times than I can count, I got sent up to
    the prison on the top floor. It was an amazing relief, because there are
    limits as to what you can do in a tiny space like that, with only a thin plastic
    mattress and the clothes on your body. One tends to get a little screwed in
    the head.
    Upstairs, in the custody wing of the prison, I was placed in isolation with a
    ban on media, letters and contact with other people. So basically, the exact
    same thing as downstairs, but with an actual bed that had a slightly thicker
    mattress and a window instead. It was a nice change compared to where
    I’d been for over a week, but here too, the law did as the law pleased. They
    can hold you for 14 days like this, in total isolation. Currently, I was around
    day 21, because the cell downstairs didn’t count and I was only “officially”
    in isolation as long as there’s a document saying that I was.
    So what did they do? They applied for a new isolation every 13 days, so
    that it didn’t overlap with the one I was currently in and therefore, they
    counted it as a single isolation period, not breaking any laws. Writing this
    makes me feel an intense rage towards the people that think that just
    because of a title, they can do whatever the hell that pleases them. I don’t
    even know how long I was in 100% isolation. But it was several months. It
    changes you fundamentally and I don’t wish that upon anyone. Well,
    maybe the buttcakes that has been doing this to other people.. They
    deserve it. Kinda.
    I started talking to myself and started hallucinating towards the end. I felt
    the person I used to be, die bit by bit as time went by. Yet again, I had
    become a completely different person than who I was when I was brought
    to prison.
    Finally, when somebody remembered that they had forgot someone in a
    cell, my personal hell was finally over and I could serve my time without
    complete isolation. I could make phone calls, get air in the box on the roof,
    work out, shower, get books, letters and so on. I wanted to call my
    girlfriend, but was told she wasn’t my girlfriend anymore, which I
    understood completely. What I didn’t know at the time, was that I had
    received another “gift” in life during my isolation. You see, I was an
    incredibly jealous person. Painfully jealous. But when you get locked up in
    a room, with no means to reach out to the person you’re obsessing over,
    something clicks in you after a while.
    You’re not able to take control as you’d like and you have to settle on the
    fact that you can’t do shit about it. So because of that, I got cured of my
    jealousy. If I felt overwhelmed, I could just go into my brain and dabble in
    there for a while, taking a break from reality. So yeah, I was a bit crazy too,
    but it was worth it.
    I think a lot of people around the world, who find themselves in traumatic
    situations, are able to develop this ability. Your head just does what it does
    best, it tries to survive, like everything else on this planet. If I had started
    meditating at that time in my life, I know that I would have been a lot further
    along than what I am today. Maybe you’ve noticed that meditation is pretty
    important to me.
    But in the heat of the moment, you’re vision is clouded by “future-fog” and
    you’re not able to see what you should be doing instead of what you’re
    actually doing. If meditation practice were mandatory in prison, I know it
    would help a bunch of people. There’s also limits as to how many times you
    can masturbate during the day, before getting sore. Trust me on that.
    Now that I was out of isolation, I got transferred to another cell. I was asked
    if I wanted to join the “Gen-Pop”, where everyone else serving long
    sentences were placed. They had more freedom from the locked cell, a
    lounge area, a kitchen and it was more of a community. That idea scared
    the living shit out of me. I had been living alone for so long that I didn’t
    know how to handle more than 3 people at the same time. I requested to
    stay in the cell, in the custody ward where I stayed for 7 months. I had a
    small tv, some drawing equipment and a tiny fridge. I didn’t need more than
    that. I also valued my privacy, so I got checked up on frequently, because
    experience had shown that the inmates that are quiet are the ones to look
    out for. Suddenly they might find someone hanging in the cell.
    I understood why perfectly. I had planned how to snap my neck on the sink
    or hang myself by clothing several times during my isolation. But by taking
    it one day at a time, I pulled through. I drew a lot and made my own stories
    on paper. My own world. Art saved me.
    So, after 7 months, I was ready to “mingle” as it were. I felt like I had
    regained my control over my reality, so I was transferred to the ward for
    inmates serving long sentences, even though I still didn’t know what my
    sentence was. That is another thing that fucks with your brain a little bit, not
    knowing how long you’ll be in prison over a long period of time. As I “moved
    in”, I met the partner I had committed the deeds with for the first time since
    we got arrested. We talked about what had happened since then and I
    started to interact with the other inmates.
    The trials
    After a long, long time, the police had finally gathered enough evidence to
    raise a case. And boy, did they have evidence. I think maybe 20% of the
    evidence I was on trial for, actually involved me, but that didn’t matter one
    bit. The law is the law, no matter how corrupt and narrow minded it is.
    Because there was so much happening at once, with information coming in
    from all over the place, this part of my life is a little foggy too. Maybe they
    did that on purpose, who knows. But the trials for the fire with the
    mastermind were going on at the same time in my hometown, 2 hours
    away. Because I’d already admitted to everything regarding that case, all
    that remained was for the prosecutors, judges and lawyers to go through
    the details, which took several days.
    I was sentenced to 2 years and 11 months in prison and 38 million NOK, or
    $4,3 Million in retribution, that was to be paid within 14 days of the verdict.
    Yeah, even the judge giggled a bit when that craziness was read aloud for
    the courtroom. But we all knew that an amount like that would mean the
    end of a 20 year old’s life. On “the bright side”, the mastermind received the
    same amount. We shared the monetary part of the punishment, but not the
    prison. He received a little less time than me. I never saw him again after
    we received the sentences.
    When you are sentenced to pay this much money, something clicks within
    you. It is kind of the reason why the robberies happened and why I did so
    many fucked up things with ease. In a way, I was actually preparing myself
    to live with an unpayable debt. Money was in my focus, because I actually
    wanted to try to rid myself of the debt and eventually live a normal life, so I
    didn’t care how I got it, I would’ve done anything. But here’s a solid piece of
    advice: Don’t do something criminal in order to pay for something criminal.
    That’s a vicious circle, but I think most people see that before attempting
    something that stupid.
    Then it was time to undergo the trials for the robberies. These were held in
    the basement of the building I was serving time in, so we just got escorted
    below in handcuffs, no need to be chained in the back of a van for 2 hours.
    That was a relief.
    I was sitting in my chair as I listened to the testimonies of the victims. I was
    at a loss for words. The person responsible for their horrors was me. They
    had been traumatised for life because I needed money to pay for
    something I did. That’s the negative power of “me” right there. What
    happens when greed and “me” is the main focus can sometimes be
    catastrophic. I watched as one after the other broke down in tears on the
    stand as they remembered what had happened to them. My ex girlfriend
    was one of them.
    She was trying to explain what she had seen during our time together. I
    had been smart and kept that part of my life as hidden for her as I could, so
    she didn’t know that much. But even so, the prosecutor kept asking her
    incriminating questions that she couldn’t answer. When she broke down
    crying, the prosecutor said it was because of guilt. I was enraged. I shouted
    that he should really consider stopping.
    I didn’t pay attention to the way I said it, but I think I was lucky to not be on
    trial for threats towards a public servant as well. “Servant”… What a joke.
    Anyways, I managed to call out the injustice in her being framed on the
    stand for things she didn’t do at all. I was told to sit down and shut up. Her
    dad gave me some killer looks, which I understand because I had basically
    destroyed his daughter’s life. She wasn’t put on trial any more and didn’t
    receive any further problems, luckily.
    When it was my turn to speak, I told them my part in the things they had
    solid evidence for me doing. Nothing more, nothing less. Basically the
    same procedure as with the fire, but even less, because I didn’t want to
    admit to things they couldn’t prove. What I remember the most is my
    partners defender. The idiot kept asking questions like “Can you confirm
    that my client wasn’t with you during the time of the things you’re on trial
    for?” I told him that I am going to tell the court what I have done, personally.
    It’s not my place to talk about others, in any manner. They had the same
    evidence against him, so what his defender was doing was openly trying a
    Hail Mary with me as the scapegoat. My partner on the other hand, did not
    like that I didn’t just take all the blame for everything we did together.
    When we came back upstairs after the trial, he went to his cell to speak
    with a few inmates about the proceedings. I went in and sat down on his
    bed, because this was a case where me and him were involved, nobody
    else. I told him what I felt about his lawyer and that he’s going to ruin his
    case if he continues, because I’d told him before and during the trial, that I
    was not going to talk about others, other than myself in this case. The
    answer surprised me. He meant that it was the same as ratting him out.
    The fact that I didn’t take the blame for it all and didn’t attempt to save his
    ass, was just uncool. In other words, because my partner got summoned to
    the stand after me, he should go scot-free. I got both angry and fucking
    confused as to how the heck his reasoning worked.
    I had a lot of thoughts racing through my mind at that moment. We
    obviously had completely different views on what it meant to rat out others.
    One of the two people that were there with us started talking. He was on
    my partners side and started to become aggressive. This is prison, by the
    way. There’s often little to no sense of true loyalty and for what I know, the
    guy sided with my partner because he got his last pudding after dinner. It
    doesn’t take much more to buy loyalty. Also, his first reaction is anger and
    aggression, which tells me that the mental capacity is not even worth
    challenging, because he wouldn’t understand what I was trying to tell him
    “People like you should get whooped.” he said as he looked briefly at my
    partner, probably to see if he said the right thing. I looked at him, but my
    head was in a slight tilt, as if to try and understand how he could reach that
    conclusion with the few things he knew about this situation.
    “If that is what you feel, then I suggest you do something about it,” I told
    him after a few seconds. I had gone through several scenarios in my mind
    and this one was the most favorable.
    By prodding him to release his need for primitive reaction, I would get the
    upper hand. If I had ignored him, he would be building up rage until he
    boiled over, then I would have more problems than I had to begin with. So
    he got up and slapped me open handed across the face. The room started
    spinning and the heat on my cheek exploded. The second it took me to
    regain my thoughts after the initial blow seemed like a minute. Then
    another slap. Because of my arm, I was used to pain and could hold my
    reactions back. I wanted to snap his neck as I felt a burning sensation on
    my cheek. I looked at him and asked “Did that make you feel better?” The
    plan was to throw him off and emasculate him in front of his peers. It
    worked. He sat back down.
    We continued to talk about what it actually meant to be a snitch. What it
    actually meant to throw somebody under the bus and how fucking childish
    this entire behaviour was, because it was a matter of owning up to what
    we’d done. We wrapped up the conversation and headed towards the door.
    I sat on the bed, so I reached the door last. I was stopped by the
    neanderthal as I was about to exit. “I trust that nobody finds out about this?”
    he said, threateningly, as he grabbed my hand hard. I sighed and looked at
    him with disbelief. “Are you seriously stopping me out of fear of reprimand
    after what we just talked about in there? Where you, unprovoked, slapped
    me in the face, twice? Bro, if this is a concern you have, I’d advise you stop
    acting like a fucking kid and chime in with actual words, then you wouldn’t
    have these problems.” I squeezed his hand as hard as I could before
    releasing it and passing him.
    My face was vibrating and I was picturing all sorts of torturous ways to
    make him suffer as I sat down on the couch in the lounge area in the
    middle of the ward. I really would benefit from meditation at this point, as
    you can probably tell. I read Science Illustrated as I felt my head pounding.
    I wanted to rub the cheek, which I knew was flaming red, even if I hadn’t
    seen it. Maybe that’s why he stopped me. He saw his palm across my face,
    as would the guards if they saw it. Now I was enjoying the couch. As
    guards passed me, I could see the panic boil in him from across the room.
    Payback, bitch.
    After I’d mentally tortured him for a bit, I headed to my cell. I didn’t want any
    more trouble in my life. A lot of things happened during my time on the
    inside, but these are the stories that shaped me more directly than others in
    my life and thus, is what I shall focus on in this book.
    If you want to know about those stories, look forward to “The Ash”.
    A free man
    I was released July 23rd 2011. The day after the terror attack by A.B.B, on
    Utøya, Norway.
    When I was packing my stuff, I heard the news coming from the TV in my
    room. I couldn’t grasp that it had actually happened in Norway, of all
    places. It felt unreal. I packed the few things I had and prepared to carry it
    out into the car, where my mom and current girlfriend were waiting. I had
    met her online. After serving most of my sentence, they transferred me to a
    transition prison, where I got to work, have access to the internet and get
    ready for life outside of prison, even if it’s still a prison.
    When I was done, we drove home, where I had been placed in a room on
    top of the garage, where we were going to live together. The same space
    that had been my prison a few years prior, when my arm kept me in my
    room. It didn’t take long before we realised that this was not a good idea.
    I’d met her online when I was an inmate and she’d left her family and
    everything in the North to come stay with me in the South.
    For long periods of time, she lived in a hotel in the same city I was
    incarcerated. Me and another inmate worked at the Zoo at the time. What I
    didn’t know was that this man was a liar to a high degree. He had a talent
    for fabricating stories and support these stories with forged documents and
    the like. He had offered to help us out with hotels etc. because I was
    helping him with my technical skills online.
    What we didn’t know then, is that all of the money that was spent on hotels,
    food and everything that was paid for, came from people he swindled.
    Among them, his own grandparents. When it was time for me to be
    released, it became known that he had fooled key people and employers
    while he was in prison. So instead of freedom, he got another sentence to
    serve. I kept in touch with his grandparents after I got out, because they
    were genuine, good people who didn’t deserve what he did to them.
    All of this taught me a valuable lesson. To always be cynical and
    apprehensive toward people who promise gold and the promised land for
    your loyalty to them, no matter how great things look. Never put all your
    trust in the abilities of one person if the risk is greater than that of borrowing
    $5. I learned this the hard way by seeing how it affected those that got
    ripped off.
    I was a witness at his trial and I heard more stories that I didn’t know about.
    More people he had ripped off and more damage he had caused. Many
    while we were on the job together. It was a pity, because he’s a smart man
    and had a lot of resources, but he applied his skills to the hunt for fortune,
    no matter the cost. I’ve had that same drive, those same goals, so I
    couldn’t judge him. I guess that’s something my past experiences have
    taught me as well, I never judge people, because we all have different
    stories from our path through life, some more complicated than others.
    If there’s one thing I’ve learned over and over again, it’s that money isn’t
    the key to success. If money and material things are the only things you
    focus on, you’ll end up disappointed or worse. “Money corrupts”, they say.
    And it’s 100% correct. If you look at the problems we’re facing in the world
    today, most of them, if not all, can be traced to money as a root problem or
    cause. People and organizations seeking nothing but profit, will always run
    over innocent souls on their way to riches.
    If you spend your energy helping others and accepting the situation for
    what it is at all times, you’ll always have a goal to work towards. Something
    to be truly happy about. In contrast, if you only chase money, you’ll always
    want more. At least that’s my personal, humble opinion after having lived
    the life I have.
    Enough was never enough, because I had one focus, get more. If I had
    known what I know today, my life would have been completely different, but
    I am infinitely happy for all of the crap that has happened as well, because I
    would never have learned what I know if I didn’t experience it. I would
    probably be doing something just to be doing something, and not truly love
    what I do. If it wasn’t for the bad things in my life, I wouldn’t have found my
    calling, so I am eternally grateful for the lessons I’ve learned.
    Back at the garage, me and my current girlfriend fell out one evening. It
    was so bad that I went into the house and sat down with my mom. I told her
    that I couldn’t live like this and neither could my girlfriend, so we had to find
    a solution. My mom agreed, because she had seen our relationship from a
    different angle and it was pretty clear. She didn’t hesitate a second before
    booking a flight back north. I headed back up to the garage and told her
    that this charade had to stop.
    The morning after, I drove her to the airport. It was a silent 2 hour drive. We
    had experienced a whole lot in a very short time together, but almost none
    of it was positive and the communication thus far had mainly been over the
    phone or text messages, because I was still serving time when we met.
    She agreed that ending the relationship was the smart way to go. At the
    airport, we said goodbye and I headed home. It was kind of hard, but it was
    for the best.
    It was time to do something about my life. I couldn’t just sit in the garage
    and watch Grey’s Anatomy. I started the series and suddenly I was sitting
    on the couch like a zombie. I was contacted by an ex after a while and I
    moved again. This time to a slightly larger city where I’d also been
    contacted by a friend of mine who wanted to start a business together.
    Finally I could start living again! Or rather, start living, period.
    We started a business that delivered lights and sound systems. Basically, if
    you wanted a disco or something party-related, we would hook you up. It
    was a fulfilling job because we saw how pleased the attendees were. This
    was promising, there were a lot of work to be done and I looked forward to
    getting up in the mornings.
    It didn’t take long until my business partner wanted to discuss something
    with me. “How about we start a pub together?” he said. He had already
    found a place to rent and taken care of the details. I thought about it for a
    second and reached the conclusion that it would only build on our brand.
    That way, we would have a headquarters where we could spread the word
    of the business. Corner was born. We worked around the clock, tending the
    bar, meeting new people, doing business deals and we lived the dream.
    But one day it all stopped. The financial situation had seen better days. We
    were more or less surviving on tips and were struggling with keeping it all
    afloat. After only one year, I was advised by my mom to write a document
    that would pull me out of the company, not withdrawing a penny. She’s an
    accountant and had been trying to make us see where we were heading if
    we didn’t make some changes. We were still fresh in the business world, so
    we didn’t do all the things we should have done. My partner was controlling
    the business bank account, because I had a criminal record. After a little
    while, some things were ordered for the bar that we just couldn’t afford in
    the long run and that shouldn’t have been prioritised, so with a heavy heart,
    I wrote the document. Of course, I tried to reason with my partner first, but
    the severity of the situation was lost on him.
    He respected my choice and signed the document. I didn’t want to “resign”,
    but I saw no other choice, given my financial situation and everything else. I
    couldn’t get into more problems and I simply couldn’t afford that. And just
    like that, I’d quit one of the best jobs I’ve ever had.
    It didn’t take long after the document was signed, that the business went
    under, so I learned an important lesson from that. Never shut your ears to
    other people’s opinions. They can save you if you take a leap and trust
    your instincts.
    But after I left the company, I was back to square one. I had no job, no
    money, no future, no nothing. I even lived alone, away from my family and
    everyone I knew. So I decided to start job hunting closer to home.
    To my great surprise, I got a response from a factory in my hometown and
    they wanted me in for an interview. I went to the interview and I landed the
    job. New chapter in life, I thought to myself. And boy, was I right.
    Job at the factory
    I moved back to my hometown and started working. I liked the job, even
    though it was extremely demanding and challenging in the beginning,
    because of the arm. But it wasn’t as bad as it used to be, so I felt like it was
    an improvement. After a while, the pain went away, bit by bit. I was
    transferred to different departments within a few months and they tried me
    out in different positions[giggety]. Everything seemed to be going great for
    2 years, but then I felt something I thought I’d forgotten all about. A piercing
    sensation in my left side, by the top of the shoulder.
    I was quality checking X-ray photographs of car parts. It was a chill job in a
    small officebox in the middle of the factory, away from the noise and stress
    of the outside. It was even air-conditioned for those really hot days,
    surrounded by molten aluminum. Basically, it was the dream job of
    everyone there, apart from the Sand Core Division and the Metal Division,
    but that was only because of all the lazy time during the shifts.
    But I was sipping my coffee and listening to music, while part number god
    knows how many, went through the system. All of a sudden it was like
    someone had snuck up behind me and stabbed me in the left shoulder with
    a searing hot knife. I started seeing small planets wizzing across my
    peripheral vision. I got dizzy and lightheaded. Small drops of sweat were
    emerging in my forehead and I lost my strength for a second, as I started
    tipping off the chair. I regained myself early enough to grab a hold of the
    edge of the table and stay upright in the chair.
    As I came back, I thought “That’s not supposed to happen…?” and sat
    there for a few minutes. A colleague came in for her shift and snapped me
    out of the alternate plane of reality that I had entered. My brain was still
    fighting to process what had just happened.
    The weeks went by and this happened several times, while also occurring
    more frequently. Sometimes the pain was so numbing that I fainted. I
    started having blackouts regularly while sitting in a chair. I went to the boss
    and he said I should see the doctor. I knew what would happen now.
    History would repeat itself, although with a twist of fate. I booked an
    appointment at the doctor.
    After a whole bunch of tests and sick leaves, he told me that the condition
    I’d contracted after the clot, had started acting up. Post Thrombotic
    Syndrome, as they have coined it, turns out to be a diagnosis to use when
    no other doctor can find a diagnosis, because it pretty much has it all. Pain,
    no sleep, inexplicable pain seizures, and the list goes on. No matter what
    the symptom, it could be traced to Post Thrombotic Syndrome. So what
    Between 2014 and 2020, I’m still being tossed back and forth between
    doctors and specialists. I had to take action myself, because if not, I’d still
    be sitting on the couch, believing that the only ones that can fix me, are
    doctors. This condition will remain the same for the rest of my life, if new
    science isn’t invented. And I didn’t have that kind of time to throw out the
    window, while being branded a failure in society. Time to take matters into
    my own hands.
    After one year, I had a meeting with the factory about the future. We all
    agreed that my future was not with the factory. Nor would it ever be, even if
    my health was to completely recover. Part of the reason for the layoff, was
    also that it’s quite hazardous to have a guy fainting around huge vats of
    liquid aluminum.
    So I left the job. But before I had to leave, I met someone at the factory. We
    started to hang out and soon enough, we were a couple. If that wasn’t fast
    enough, we moved in with each other pretty much instantly, because the
    house I was living in was being sold. Either I had to buy it, or I had to move.
    Her idea was to just crash at her place! Well, around a year later, we had a
    baby, Trym. He came as quite the surprise given how I’d always lived. That
    made me have to think differently. I had to find a different way of living and
    doing things.
    And so, when she was at work, I’d work at home, online. I gained
    knowledge about how to earn money online, how to develop businesses,
    how to be a web designer, how to design in photoshop and so on. I took
    courses for everything. If I set out to do something, I did a few courses on it
    and off I went. I gained so much knowledge, because I couldn’t go back to
    an uncertain future again. Not for me and not for my son.
    This new lifestyle became too much for my girlfriend and we started to fight.
    When there’s a baby in the picture, the fights change. We realised that this
    can’t happen. Not with a child observing parents who only fight, so we split.
    It was a mutual understanding and we’re friends, so I think it was the right
    thing to do.
    I have my son 50/50 and so when I didn’t have to be responsible, I went out
    to meet people, have a late coffee, maybe a beer and stuff like that.
    After doing that for a while, isolating myself and learning, having the
    occasional good time and enjoying the time with my son in my 153 ft2
    apartment, I realised that I hadn’t really progressed in life. My life revolved
    mostly around my son, so I was put on pause for a good while. I couldn’t
    work, so I didn’t have money and I didn’t have the best internet, so I
    couldn’t work with the things I was learning. I ended up just sitting in that
    apartment when I didn’t have Trym. I think I might have been depressed,
    because I had zero idea about how to give my son what he needed. That
    truly sucked.
    CHAPTER 10
    By now, maybe you’ve seen a pattern in how I was taught, failure by failure,
    to be the person I am today. I started to see that pattern. I saw myself from
    different angles and it wasn’t good. I couldn’t be like this, not when I had
    the freedom to do what I wanted. So I started becoming social again. I went
    out with friends when I wasn’t being a dad and tried on life as best I could.
    The summer ended and we approached July and August, aka the festival
    It had been ages since I had been to a festival, so I wanted to check that
    out. Me and my ex planned to go to this festival together, but since the
    plans changed, it became part of the “settlement deal” we had as we split.
    Because both of us had contributed to the stuff in the house and my
    financial situation was at rock bottom, we split up the things we’d bought as
    best we could. Because she had work and stuff, I got the tickets. Who knew
    that these too would be completely life changing?
    I asked, along with two of my brothers, the girlfriend of one of my brothers
    and a friend. We all headed up to this amazing viking site in Borre, Norway.
    They host a viking festival up there and this year, they had Wardruna, the
    band behind the music on “Vikings”. This was truly special to me, so I was
    really excited. As we arrived at Midgard, as they call it, I felt at home.
    Surrounded by wooden statues of gods, huge gilde halls, and a magical
    nature, surrounded by famous viking burial mounds, I felt at peace. In the
    years that followed, I’ve visited that site alone, many times. It’s my
    sanctuary. The place that changed it all.
    We pitched our camp and got settled. The beers were opened and we
    roared in joy and had a toast for the magical weekend we were facing.
    There was a lot of alcohol. I was more or less drunk during the entire thing,
    but not as drunk as to not remember the weekend. We talked a lot with
    interesting people around huge bonfires along the shoreline of quiet waves.
    We sang old viking songs with music and drums that were created by sticks
    we found laying around, while thumping our feet loudly in the ground. It was
    pure magic.
    What’s amazing about Midgardsblot, is that the performers, at least back
    then, camped with the normal attendees, so we got to meet tons of bands
    from all over the world. There were always people in our camp and we
    were talking around our ice chest, having a great time. I especially
    remember Dj Sindri. He gave me his hat at one time, while he was giving
    all of the people around the chest a massage. He was amazing and the
    embodiment of positivity, even if he was playing death metal, which some
    finds to be the works of satan.
    The best image I have of him is when a wasp managed to sneak inside his
    pants, these wide legged 70’s pants. Instead of panicking, he started
    talking about the value of a life, no matter how big or small. The wasp was
    quickly approaching the intersection in his crotch by the look of Sindri’s
    focus, but he remained calm and did what he could to guide this little
    creature away from his creature and out the bottom of the pants. After 5
    minutes of surprisingly calm and balanced guidance, the wasp emerged at
    the bottom and flew away, while Sindri was still praising the value of life.
    What an amazing person.
    One morning, while I was still drunk from the previous night, I went to clear
    my mind at the burnt out fire. I saw a silhouette out on the docks that
    stretched out from the fire site. I liked this silhouette and admired its beauty
    at a distance. I smiled as I sat down by the log and watched the heavens,
    the clouds, the birds, the people reappearing from their tents, like bear
    cubs waking from hibernation. There was a song playing in the distance
    “Guten Morgen Sonnenschein”. It was awesome. I was at peace and felt
    truly happy where I sat, contemplating the beauty of my life in that moment.
    A short while later, people were popping up all over the place, starting their
    days and opening their beers. Some people sat down around the campfire
    where I was enjoying this perfect morning. Soon enough, one of my
    brothers and our friend had joined and everyone around the fire just sat
    there, feeling the sun on the skin.
    The lady who owned the silhouette had finished up her morning routine and
    had found a bench on shore, where she and some friends were talking. I
    sneaked a peek in her direction a few times when it dawned on me. She
    was the girl from the night before! A drunk girl, covered in ash and blood,
    holding a 1 litre box of wine. But now the hair was down, the filth was off
    and she was sober. She was a completely different person. I was
    dumbfounded by the difference, compared to the first impression I had of
    She was wearing shorts and a t-shirt because she’d just been in the water.
    Her smile and laugh caught me by surprise. It was like I’d been asleep and
    finally woke up. Our eyes met and I smiled. I felt butterflies in my stomach
    and I kept looking at her. Then I told my friend “Do you remember that girl
    from last night? Covered in ash, blood and dirt.. You know, the one who
    said ‘UUUH’ and scurried to the other side of the fire when you showed
    your dick to that woman sitting here last night?”
    “I’m not really sure…. Oh, wa.. Aaah, Yeah! Of course I remember! Is that
    her?” he answered after looking in the direction my eyes were focused. “I
    know, right? I’ve been sitting here, thinking the exact same thing for a few
    minutes now.. Oh, hang on..” I said as the girl and her friend stood up from
    the bench. Then went prone on the other side of the bench and started
    sneaking their way through the grass, approaching an unsuspecting victim,
    a man who was sunbathing in a balloon couch.
    They crawled like tigers on the Savannah and when they were inches away
    from the couch, they jumped up and scared the living shit out of the guy.
    Then they got back up, gave each other a high-five and went back to the
    bench from where they once came.
    Everyone who had just seen this spectacle was laughing, even the
    unsuspecting guy, although I think he spilled some of his beverage in his
    lap. I gave her a nod and a smile as she looked back towards the fire, like a
    “Well done” nod. We opened another beer and kept enjoying this awesome
    morning with all of our new friends. As I put down my beer, I saw that she
    looked straight at me, as she got up from the bench. I nudged my friend
    gently and said “Check this out, I have a feeling something awesome is
    about to happen,” as I straightened back up and followed her look. It was
    like every cell in my body was tuned in for this. I knew that this would be
    She approached the back of the log I was leaning on and sat down behind
    me. For some reason, I just laid my head back into her lap, stared into her
    eyes and said “Hey, sexy”. I know what you’re thinking, but this wasn’t one
    of those “Hey Sexy’s”. This was like two souls meeting each other again
    after being apart for ages. She returned my smile, and as her hands started
    stroking me gently on my chest and neck, and she cradled my head in her
    lap, she said “Hey.” We sat like this for a few minutes, then she said
    “You’re beautiful.” I looked at her, as if she’d just taken the words out of my
    mouth and I said “No, you’re beautiful!” because I was just thinking that
    about her. Keep in mind that we said in Norwegian, so “Du er fin”.
    I could hear my brother and my friend whispering by my side. I couldn’t
    blame them, this was pretty unique, because we didn’t know each other at
    all. Then she said “I better go back to my friend, but do you wanna hang
    out later at the concert?” I nodded and told her I’d love to and that I’d find
    her when it’s time. I looked at her as she returned to her friend, then I
    peeked over to the surprised looks of my companions. “I know, I can’t
    explain what just happened either,” I said, with a huge smile on my face.
    I noticed that all of the faces around the campfire were looking in our
    direction. They had heard and seen the whole thing and asked, “So you
    really didn’t know each other?”. I nodded as I confirmed that they had just
    seen destiny intervene. “That was so special, that I think we should snap a
    picture, to keep it forever,” said a lady from the far side of the burnt out fire.
    Everyone agreed and started lining up in front of us to take our picture. In
    that moment, we were the embodiment of happiness and it showed. We
    had all just been part of something truly amazing. That is by the way the
    hat that I got from DJ Sindri.
    We found out that we had to check out more of the festival, so we got up
    and headed across the mounds of viking graves that were between the
    camp and the concert area. It was truly beautiful, walking there and
    listening to the birds and the sounds of nature. Is there any wonder why
    this is one of my top favorite places to be?
    After we’d crossed “The Woods of Many Perils” as I call it, we could see the
    festival grounds and medieval shops and stands. We got a few beers and
    stood there, listening to death metal. Not really my kind of music, but it was
    a nice experience. I was more interested in the huge gilde hall with viking
    ornaments all over. It was beautiful. The day had been long and interesting
    and my feet were killing me, so we started to head back to camp, as it was
    getting dark. When we reached the fields and mounds, I could see a
    familiar 1,54m (5ft) tall creature coming towards us. I looked at my friends
    and said, “Found her.”
    We started waving to our new friends as the distance between us got
    smaller. “Hey!” I shouted when the distance wasn’t awkwardly huge. The
    two groups stopped and greeted each other and we quickly decided that I
    was heading back up. “See you tonight!” I said to my friends as I turned
    and joined my new friends. As I was walking beside her, I couldn’t help but
    notice the difference in our height. “Me like,” I told myself as we continued. I
    like to be able to put my chin on top of the head when I’m hugging, and she
    was the perfect height for that, so our hugs started off being pretty epic
    from the get-go.
    We arrived at the concert area once again and before I knew what had
    happened, her friend had gone and bought us all beer. So, still drunk, I had
    even more beer to finish. I thanked her in my drunken shock. I wasn’t too
    drunk, though. It’s not like I was walking in zig-zag, unable to speak and
    shit. We were listening to the bands on the stage and observing the
    mosh-pits in front of us while drinking our beers and holding each other. It
    was pretty chill. I also saw a few other guys that passed us and gave me
    some looks as if I had done something to them.
    She had to use the bathroom, so we separated for a bit. I used the moment
    to stretch my legs, walking around the grounds. I went into the great hall
    and sat down on some fur, while looking at the fire pit in front of me. As if
    that wasn’t good enough, it had started raining. Now, because Wardruna
    had entered the stage, the rain had a different feel. I had to get back out
    there in the rain. It poured and my hoodie was soaked to my head. I was
    standing around a fire barrel with a few others in this spiritual bliss. Then I
    realised I had to find her again, so I went as the wanderer, through the
    crowds of mesmerized people, listening to Fehu by Wardruna, live, just a
    few feet away. It was epic. Suddenly, someone nudged me and I turned
    around to see who it was. Nobody there.
    Then I looked down and there she was, this adorable little soaked thing,
    staring up at me, waiting to be hugged. She was adorable. So we stood
    there for a few minutes, enjoying the show. I saw her other suitors circling
    us, waiting for the opportunity to pounce. She looked up at me and asked if
    we should get back to the camp because of the rain and the wind. So I
    guess she wasn’t as blissful about the weather as I was, but it was fine, I
    nodded and said “To change clothes, then?” with a smile. She said yes, but
    I couldn’t help but notice how she was biting her lower lip slightly as she
    said that.
    We headed through The Woods of Many Perils and found ourselves in the
    middle of an adventure. Suddenly, we could hear Helvegen by Wardruna
    behind us. It was a pity that we didn’t get to see it, but worth it to be on a
    journey with her. We almost ran across the fields, because she was wet
    and cold. We arrived at the dirt road leading down to camp, where I carried
    her over, because there was water everywhere. As we rounded the fence
    for the camp, we saw a hue from a fire. The security people of the festival
    had lit up a huge tree, which was acting as a bonfire in the rain and wind.
    We started to undress. It was very nice.
    After we’d danced like a couple of pagans around the fire, we headed to
    her tent, a very small tent. So, in order for this to not end up as an erotic
    novel, I’ll leave the rest of the night up to your imagination.
    The morning after, we got dressed as well as we could in that tiny space
    and headed out to speak to her friends. Or rather, get properly introduced,
    because circumstances had changed since the last time I saw them. They
    were really nice people and I had a feeling that we would interact a lot more
    in the future, even though this wasn’t planned.
    I went back to my tent, where my friends were packing our tents. After I had
    explained the story with a big smile on my face, my friends had enough
    information about the girl from the night before, so they wanted to meet her.
    I agreed, they had to meet her to understand the essence of my story. We
    started walking across the camp, past festival attendees with hangovers,
    past people that hadn’t slept in days and people that were just sitting there,
    talking and enjoying themselves while their camp was being packed. After
    about 100 metres, we arrived at the tent where I had spent the night. My
    buddy and my brother crouched down into the opening of the tent, where
    she was packing her stuff. They greeted her as if they had known each
    other for a long, long time. I smiled.
    Almost as soon as we had arrived at her camp, she was invited back to join
    ours. We sat down where my tent had been and just held each other. My
    smile was still strong. Suddenly we were asked to look into the camera.
    Mätty, a Finnish man who had rode his bike all the way from Finland to be
    at this festival, was sitting there with this camera and wanted to take a
    picture. We looked into the lense and voila, our first picture together was
    taken. It’s still standing on the living room table and it means a lot to us.
    We said our goodbyes and went back to our respective camps. I was
    thinking a lot about her in the days that followed, but she had no phone like
    me and everyone else. Because she moved here from Chile, she only used
    Wi-Fi and because she didn’t have the internet in the house she lived in, we
    didn’t speak that much in the start. But I managed to find her on social
    media and send her a message that explained that I had to see her again.
    To my big surprise, I got an answer. She shared my thoughts and wanted
    us to meet again too.
    Two weeks later, she was at my place, down in the south of Norway. It was
    a magical weekend where we got to know each other and we just enjoyed
    every second we were together. All of my closest friends saw that this was
    a special thing. This was not like the others prior to the festival. I’d even
    said that I was going to keep myself single, so this was as surprising to me
    as everyone else.
    Time went by and we were closing in on our next turning point in our lives. I
    would never have been able to picture how challenging this was going to
    be, even if someone had explained it to me great detail beforehand. Soon
    we would be starting the fight to be together, and boy, what a fight it has
    turned out to be.
    CHAPTER 11
    UDI (The Foreign Department)
    Because she hadn’t received a permit yet, there was a lot of things that we
    couldn’t do. To add to that, she was living with her ex in the beginning,
    because she was in the country on the grounds of marriage. It wasn’t long
    after she moved to Norway and moved in with him, that he turned out to be
    something completely different than what she thought. She had a very
    stressful everyday life because of this, and because we talked the way we
    did, I knew about everything. I was truly hurting on her behalf and I swore
    that if I was ever able, I would help her out of that situation.
    The way I saw it, she was “imprisoned” in a free country. The foreign
    department as clear guidelines as to how people are meant to behave and
    live when entering the country under such premises. She had to live with a
    person with whom she wasn’t happy, and if she chose not to live with him
    or the relationship didn’t work out, she had to move back to Chile. Her
    entire adult life she’d been trying to get to Norway in a legal manner and
    now, when she had finally made it, she didn’t want to just let the opportunity
    to live her life slip away again.
    The relationship she was in was not good. She felt depressed, alone and
    scared. Eventually, I told her that she couldn’t live like this. We couldn’t live
    like this. Our feelings for each other were so strong that I felt frustrated,
    knowing that she had to live with him against her will. I told her that she
    could move in with me. She could move out and apply for a divorce, then
    we could start again with blank sheets. We discussed this for a bit and it
    didn’t take long until we had a plan.
    She had already broken off the relationship when I met her at the festival,
    but to apply for a divorce would mean that she were renouncing her claim
    to stay in Norway. We had to prepare ourselves for a scenario where things
    would be worse before they got better. She would probably have to go back
    to Chile for a while before we could be together, but it was worth the risk.
    Our feelings for each other were strong and we both knew what we wanted.
    I helped her with the documentation and she applied for the divorce. We
    had just started a fight that I would view as one of the worst times in my life,
    but at the same time, one of the best times I’ve ever had.
    We began studying the law to find the best way of keeping her in the
    country. After a lot of reading and a lot of calling and waiting for the foreign
    department, we had a plan. We applied for a temporary citizenship and
    waited. She was sceptical about the process, because she didn’t trust the
    foreign department which in hindsight, I understand 100%. We could never
    really relax and feared every day that today would be the day that we got
    the rejection in the mail. We had hope, but we remained realistic.
    A little while after she moved in with me, we moved out of the small
    apartment we lived in. We had been living on 150 ft2 in the middle of the
    city for quite some time, but because we were two adults, in addition to my
    1-year old son, we needed more space. I also liked the idea of going to the
    bathroom without sharing all of the mystical aspects behind my visit
    through paper thin walls. The apartment was 1 room with a bath, so it was
    impossible to respect each other’s privacy. One weekend when she was at
    home visiting her friends, I took the liberty to go check out an apartment. I
    sent her some pictures of the apartment and shortly after we had moved.
    When she returned home, nearly everything was in the new apartment,
    which wasn’t a big feat, because of the size of our place.
    We had started yet a new chapter in our lives. We ate breakfast together by
    the window with a view of some nature and a convenience store. It was
    pretty magical, but after a short while, the message came that was going to
    change everything forever. She was pregnant.
    I panicked, just as I did about Trym. I had been struggling with the finances
    ever since I had to walk away from the factory and we were already feeling
    the financial burden with feeding everyone in the house. I had to support
    her, because the foreign department didn’t want to let her work while they
    were processing her application. That made it very hard to live a life that
    didn’t just revolve around having food on the table and paying a few bills to
    stay afloat.
    She entered the living room and showed me the pregnancy test. I didn’t
    know what to say. When a girl who has been dreaming about children for
    her entire life, who thought she couldn’t get pregnant to begin with, receives
    an “Oh Crap,” instead of happiness and joy as a response to her joyous
    news, it really impacts a person. I wish I could go back to that moment and
    give her my congratulations, hugs and love the way she deserved, but at
    the time, we were in a tough financial crisis and I knew that one additional
    child would really impact an already impossible situation.
    All of a sudden, the new apartment was too small as well. It had
    one-and-a-half bedrooms, which was enough, given the fact that we were
    two adults and a 1-year old, but that didn’t cut it anymore. We had to start
    looking for yet another new place to live.
    At the time, I had begun working pretty hard to achieve a better financial
    situation. I was working a lot online as a graphic designer and everything in
    between. I was even a sex chat operator for a little while, a job I wouldn’t
    recommend a single soul if you have something resembling a normal moral
    code. I was working hard all day, every day, without getting much in return,
    but one day, that situation was about to change, when Quantum Leap
    entered the picture.
    CHAPTER 12
    Quantum Leap
    Quantum Leap was a start-up multi level marketing company, or what 90%
    of the population would call it, a Pyramid Scheme. I got contacted by a
    buddy of mine who bragged about this company like there was no
    tomorrow. That’s the problem with those things. People go on to hype
    something they don’t believe in, dragging in friends and everyone they can
    find, just to make a buck. I’ve never been a part of anything like this before,
    because of the rumours a lot of these companies have, but I went over the
    information I was given and I saw that what they had was a new and very
    exciting concept. I saw potential in the business idea and I had a feeling
    that this could be built into something great.
    Because I had been learning about graphic design and the likes, I
    immediately started to make new documents that I felt the company lacked.
    Info Sheets that made it easier for people to see what the concept was all
    about. I contacted the management and I pitched my ideas, which they
    loved, so now I had a feeling that I had found the missing piece in our lives,
    financial freedom.
    After I’d spoken to my friends and explained how different this was,
    compared to all of the other MLM’s and how this concept would help them,
    I was on my way. I had meetings all over the place and I really enjoyed this
    new “job” of mine. The problem was that promises made by the
    management were not kept. The tools that we were supposed to have at
    our disposal did not get developed, I didn’t get answers to important
    questions that my team had and promises were postponed or scrapped.
    Because I had been working closely with the management personally, I had
    a different way of viewing things than the other members, who were just
    waiting for things to happen. So I contacted someone I knew had a lot of
    money in an attempt to build more capital, so that the plans could be
    carried through. After two meetings, I had not only found someone who
    could join me, but I had found an investor for the company itself. The
    management loved this, and I felt like I was on top of the world.
    I met people from all walks of life, some were multimillionaires and owners
    of big companies, so I knew that life were headed toward something good
    this time. In fact, things were going so well that we moved yet another time.
    We moved into a house that my partner was selling, with plans of buying
    that house when Quantum Leap went in the direction we knew it would go.
    In a few months, we had gone from living on top of each other in a small
    apartment, to living in a big, new house with proper rooms for everyone,
    including the new family member we were expecting. Life was perfect. I
    even baked French country bread in the mornings, and lived a life I had
    only seen on the television. All of this, despite the fact that we didn’t have a
    lot of money yet. We still lived more or less in the same financial situation
    that we did before, plus whatever I gathered online. But that was enough
    for us.
    But after a while, things slowly started to crumble. I had a weird gut feeling
    while we saw the house. Me, two people from the management in Quantum
    Leap and my partner, met in the house before we moved in, so that we
    could see the property. In the hallway I heard them talking about a deal. A
    deal that wasn’t being honored. Money had been promised in the form of
    an investment and the management had relied on that money to continue
    growing. I heard “About the deal we had, it looks like I can’t deliver on the
    terms right now.” I’m pretty sure that was the sentence that started the fall.
    I tried to stay as updated as I could, regarding what would happen next with
    all of this. It wasn’t just about me anymore, I was supporting a family and I
    had to know what was happening. The management became more and
    more quiet as time went by and I became more and more frustrated.
    Two months later in our new house, our daughter had arrived. Everything
    was perfect. She was a new light in our lives and we enjoyed every
    moment, living as a happy family. The rest of my family came to visit and
    we celebrated Christmas in the new house. Everything was going great, but
    when my daughter was 3 months old, this was all about to change again.
    One morning I woke up to knocking on the front door. I got up and headed
    down the stairs, still drowsy from sleep. Outside, there was this tiny little
    lady that I had seen once before, when I had to get a cable for the stove in
    the kitchen. ”Hi! I was wondering if you could explain what’s going on here?
    I got a little bit confused when I saw that the house we have for sale, had
    people living in it, while we’re still selling it?” she said before I had properly
    said hello. I looked at this lady in confusion. What did she mean? How is
    she connected to this house?
    She told me that she was my partner’s mother. She had spoken to him, but
    he didn’t provide the necessary information she needed to know what was
    going on, so she came directly to me. I was in shock, while still trying to
    wake up from the night. She explained further that he wasn’t really
    supposed to do what he had done. Sure, he was supposed to sell the
    house, but that didn’t mean that he owned it (like he had explained to me
    that he did). The deal was that he’d get a commision for selling the house. I
    got sick to my stomach.
    After she’d left, I was standing on the inside of the door just looking into the
    wall. I had been told by him that he owned the house. He sold several
    houses, so it wasn’t wrong to assume that he was telling the truth. But what
    he didn’t say was that he had been tasked by his mother to sell this house
    and would get a small reward for doing so. This affected my family directly,
    because we were told to buy it or find another solution. I called banks, loan
    companies and several others to find a solution to all of this, to no avail.
    We had to move again, quickly, we didn’t have a choice. In my head I was
    trying to find out how we were supposed to manage ourselves on the street
    with a newborn baby. Norway has a lot of support systems, but as soon as
    someone without citizenship is in the picture, things become a lot harder.
    I placed an ad on Facebook and received word about a pretty expensive,
    but big enough apartment in the countryside, some distance from where we
    were. We had to take it, we couldn’t afford the luxury of picking where we
    were going to live. We just needed a roof, asap.
    I contacted my partner several times during the process, but I was ignored
    every time. To add insult to injury, Quantum Leap had really started to fall
    apart by this point, so I had to respond to complaints from the people I had
    brought into it as well. They had lost $200. Not a lot, but enough to be
    pissed. In my head, I was thinking about how things could go from the
    perfect life, to being destroyed in a matter of days. I couldn’t find an
    answer, other than the fact that I had been relying on the wrong kind of
    people. People who chased money and thus, couldn’t see the damage they
    inflict on others. They want more money, no matter the cost. I knew how
    that worked all too well.
    We moved to the countryside.
    Life started to return to normal. I had to more or less live in the office to be
    able to provide for my family, because I couldn’t work like a normal person.
    That challenged the relationship between me and my fiance. I was home all
    the time, something that is a luxury for some people, to be able to spend
    time with your kids and being with your family, but I was working constantly.
    As if that wasn’t enough, I was always being met by customers who used
    my abilities, but didn’t pay me, even though they agreed to a deal. When I
    got paid, they underpaid me. I even made a complete branding package
    once, which I sent to the customer without watermarks. They said that they
    didn’t need it anymore and then weaseled out of the deal. A few weeks
    later, I saw my work on their website, their cars, their uniforms, all over the
    place. I got sick to my stomach when I saw how some people use others. I
    did take one huge lesson from that; Never let your kindness run your
    We lived in the countryside for quite a long time, compared to the amount
    of time we spent at the other places. Long enough for my daughter to
    celebrate her 1st birthday. I had also met a coach online who helped me
    view things differently. I was healthier, I meditated, I stopped smoking and I
    didn’t eat processed sugar. I had a lot of energy, started to wake up at 5am
    and I felt really good for once. But in my life, it tends to look great for a
    while, just long enough for it to sneak up behind me and rip the rug out
    from under me. We received a letter from the foreign department not long
    after her birthday.
    “The foreign department have decided that you don’t have have enough
    human connections to the Kingdom. Therefore, you are asked to leave the
    country.” My fiance read the letter to me aloud and I had to listen to it three
    times before it dawned on me. Before I knew what was going to happen.
    What we had been talking about for almost 2 years, became a reality. We
    had to call the foreign department to square things out, because they had
    sent that letter to an app where they send confidential mail and information.
    My fiance had never used this app and was waiting for her response in the
    mail, but nobody had notified anyone, so that never happened.
    To really demonstrate how utterly stupid this process was, they had sent
    the document to an app that you can’t access, unless you are a citizen,
    which she was still waiting to become. And she had received the
    information from the same authority that told her that she couldn’t use such
    apps and systems before she was legal.
    The letter told her that she had to leave the country within a certain
    timeframe. She could appeal, if she did that early enough. But she didn’t
    even see the letter before the deadline for appeal had expired. So off we
    went, on a new ride to hell and back. We had to run around and gather the
    money for the plane ticket, we had to arrange a living space in Chile, we
    had to make sure it was safe for our daughter to travel and had to arrange
    everything that she needed, all while we were trying to grasp what had
    happened and come to terms with it. I was about to lose my daughter and
    her mother, my family was being torn apart. My son would lose his
    stepmother, whom he’d known for most of his life. It was hell. Pure hell, to
    put it extremely mildly. Life wasn’t about to just give us a fucking break for
    The days flew by at an amazing speed. The date for departure arrived
    before we knew it. The money had been arranged through our community
    and a shit ton of work. We were exhausted and fed up. Life had been
    throwing nothing but heartache and pain in our way, preventing us from just
    living a normal life.
    CHAPTER 13
    The day I brought my family to the airport for their departure from my life,
    was the worst thing I have ever experienced. I was watching my daughter
    through the rear-view mirror as her eyes met mine. As she smiled, like the
    pure bundle of positivity that she is, I felt a shiver down my entire body and
    tears pressing against the back of my eyes. I did my best to smile back,
    without showing her that I was completely devastated and broken inside.
    We arrived at my fiance’s family member where we were staying over
    before taking on the final stretch of road to the airport. It was already
    starting to get late, so my daughter was prepared for bed the moment we
    walked inside.
    I put her to bed and snuggled up beside her. She was babbling, talking
    about her day and about all of the things in the room, being her own
    exploring self, per usual. I was admiring her as she was talking. I wanted to
    capture the moment on video for when I’d miss her. I wanted to really
    remember my time with her, so I picked up my phone and started filming
    from the side of the bed. She looked at me for a while, before giving me the
    best hug in a long while. As I felt her cheek against mine, I completely fell
    apart. I hugged her back, trying to hide my tears and the ridiculously
    crippling pain I was feeling. I’m glad I got that on video, because today, I
    can think about that moment in time and all the emotions comes back to
    me. It might sound like a sadistic thing to do, to feel that bad on purpose,
    but it grounds me and makes me appreciate every nanosecond of my time
    with her, because I know how I felt when I lost her. That video is on my
    youtube channel, as part of my 100 Day Challenge. The videos from those
    days shows me at my absolute lowest and in the most desperate time of
    my life.
    When the sun rose the next morning, it was time to get dressed. I walked
    around, knowing that I saw each and every routine that we did for the last
    time in a long while. I didn’t know when I would see her again. I had to
    mentally prepare myself to lose her entire childhood and maybe be able to
    see her again when I could afford to go to Chile, if the government would
    even let me into the country, given my record. It was either that, or get the
    money to get them over to visit for 3 months once every few years. No
    matter the outcome, this might be the last time I can hug my baby girl while
    she’s still my baby.
    It was with a heavy heart that we got into the car and started driving
    towards the airport. The car was silent, like everyone knew that this was a
    horrible time in our family’s brief history. I watched my daughter as much as
    I could, while squeezing my fiance’s hand. She was broken. She had given
    up on the little spark she had left. The only reason she carried on, was
    because of her daughter.
    She had been fighting for this for so long. Literally half her life. Getting
    rejected, experiencing heartache, leaving her friends, all while having
    nowhere to really call “Home”. She’s been through a lot and I’m proud of
    knowing and supporting her.
    We parked at the airport and I went to the backseat to pick up my daughter.
    It was like I had a rock on the inside of my heart and my breathing was
    short and shallow. I couldn’t believe what I was doing. I was actually
    picking up my daughter for the last time and “willingly” handing her off to fly
    away from me. To the other side of the world, no less, where my fiance had
    no internet, no secure place to live, no income and with a one year old to
    support. What the hell was going on?
    That is, in my opinion, against every human right. She had done nothing
    wrong, just trying to live in a better place, she speaks Norwegian fluently,
    wants to work, is nice to people and the list goes on. She is a model citizen,
    but she’s getting kicked out because she left her husband after he turned
    out to be crazy. Instead of hanging in there for 5 years, in a failed marriage
    just for citizenship, as many do to stay in the country, she divorced him to
    do things the right way. And now, they reward her with a deportation on top
    of that, after she filled out the application called “Humane Reason for
    Now it was time. They’ve won, I thought. I followed my fiance as she looked
    for the gate. She was focused. I could tell she was holding in a lot of
    feelings, but she did what had to be done, because everything else was out
    of our control. She had done this before and knew the stakes. Even her
    bags were almost professionally packed, because she knew what she
    needed. I was dragging my daughter along in her carseat stroller. I looked
    at her as much as I could.
    When we reached the gate at the far end of the airport, I took my daughter
    up in my arms and just smelled her until she got annoyed and wanted to
    use the legs she had just figured out that she could use. We ran around the
    gate, she charmed the attendant and everyone waiting to check in, as she
    always does. She is a glowing light of positivity and the world needs her to
    remain true.
    Suddenly, our playtime was over as the attendant pointed my fiance
    towards the newly opened gate. My daughter was placed, reluctantly, back
    in the seat and my fiance took the handle. I had to run over for one last kiss
    before they crossed the boundary I couldn’t follow them through. I tried to
    get that moment on video and it breaks me every time. Watching the
    confused face of my daughter as her mom says, “Say goodbye to daddy”,
    while she waved, not really knowing why I wasn’t there beside her like I
    always had been since her birth. They crossed the gate and I lost sight of
    them. I fell to my knees in defeat right there in the airport.
    I had been working so hard for so long, so that they could have the life they
    deserve, all for nothing. We had been through so much pure shit and
    misery together and still stayed strong, only to reach this point in time
    where everything went to hell. I wouldn’t want my worst enemy to feel the
    way I did in that moment, but it has shaped me.
    After a minute or so, I got up and started to walk as composed as possible
    towards the exit. I couldn’t believe what had happened. This had to be a
    dream and I wanted to wake up. But I felt like total hammered shit as I
    reached the car. I got in and started to leave the parking lot. I paid the
    parking fee, which was $20 for the short 30 minutes I had been standing
    there. Great. Just great. As I pulled out on the highway, I was thinking
    about what I had to do with my time. They were going to come back, no
    matter what, mark my words.
    I received a motivational drive that was unlike anything I’ve experienced
    before. I worked hard, day and night. I fell asleep in the office more often
    than not. I was designing high end graphics and logos for so cheap that I
    was almost losing money. The problem with a job like mine and the
    experience I have, is that no matter how good you are, people won’t see
    more than the final picture anyway.
    They don’t see the many hours you spent working out the tiny details.
    Same thing with a website. When I created what my client had in mind,
    they didn’t realise how much work that went into every single project. It
    didn’t take long until I was fed up discussing and arguing over the value
    they received and what many paid me. I might have been too nice in the
    beginning, trying to lower the price to sell more. DON’T DO THAT. Do not
    decrease your worth because of what others say. It will turn into a vicious
    loop, where you’ll be underestimating yourself over more than just the
    value you provide in your work.
    Here’s an example to make this principle clear.
    I was creating a branding bundle, where I created the logo for the
    company, the website, the labels on the bottles and so on. The website
    alone required 5 days to make operational.
    ● I set up the database and the framework for the website
    ● I photographed every single product in the same angle and light
    ● I uploaded every photo to the website
    ● I built the payment solutions
    ● I linked it with all existing systems of the store
    ● I created the logo
    ● I created individual labels for every product
    ● I optimised the website and so on.
    This took a lot of time and by the time I was done, the client wanted to pay
    me around $400. Given the time I had spent, this was equal to about $3/hr.
    So after a while I had to go deep into myself and figure out another, more
    obvious way to make the money I needed. A way in which people would
    understand the value of what they received. I started studying to learn new
    ways as to how I could bring my loved ones back home.
    As soon as I felt defeat, I watched the videos I had of my daughter in the
    final moments with her. After a while, I also spoke with her on facetime. Her
    mother called every day, so that my daughter wouldn’t forget about me
    because of her young age. I can’t thank her enough for that. Our
    relationship didn’t survive the challenges our situation inflicted upon us, so
    the fact that she remained that strong for her daughter will always have my
    undying respect and gratitude. She could have ignored me and just started
    life anew in Chile. I love her deeply and eternally for that.
    I found a small comfort in the fact that they had been given a room at their
    family’s house, so that they were safe at least. They lived in a small room
    together, but the house was filled with love and I knew my daughter was
    happy while I slaved away to find the solution.
    After a while, I started to look into coaching, something I had never done
    before. I found it very rewarding and I helped people, so I studied harder
    and learned everything I needed to know. At the same time, I was helping
    local businesses get an online profile, getting paid in services and favors
    more than money. I got up at 5am in the morning and worked around the
    clock, further improving upon myself and my abilities. Because of all the
    challenges we were faced with, I had gained a new perspective on what I
    needed to be happy and what was truly important to my life. Additionally, I
    could help others through trauma and seemingly impossible situations,
    making their life better as I was improving ours.
    CHAPTER 14
    The Foundations of FML
    I was forced into changing my habits while they were away. I already had a
    good routine that I had started after I met Pablo.
    ● I got up at 5 am
    ● I took an ice cold shower and practiced my breathing, which also
    boosted my immune system.
    ● I stepped into the living room for some morning yoga (It was hard in
    the beginning)
    ● Then I sat down in the middle of the room for 30 minutes of
    ● I made a green smoothie from avocado, chia seeds, dates, some
    spinach etc.
    ● I watched the sunrise as I drank my breakfast.
    ● I made a cup of coffee (black)
    ● I got to work.
    Some days were harder than others, but through “Habit Hacking”, I started
    to get used to it. I did this for a few months and saw that I got more work
    done between 6:30am and 9:00am than I would do in several days without
    the system. I was pretty happy with my productivity.
    I read books. A lot of books. The Alchemist by Paolo Coelho,The 4-hour
    Workweek by Tim Ferris, Dot Com Secrets by Russel Brunson, Escape by
    Anik Singal and so on. A lot of the books I read covered how to make
    money, but some of them were philosophical in nature and they made me
    think outside the box. They gave me different perspectives and angles of
    Three months went by and I was doing this every day. I talked to my
    daughter through Facetime in the evenings and got to see how she was
    doing in Chile. Some of those were really tough. I feared that she had
    forgotten me a little bit. She wasn’t as engaged when I called, but it turns
    out that she does that when she doesn’t want to say goodbye, so it was
    actually a good thing. At the moment though, it hurt.
    As they had been gone for three months, they were eligible for a return to
    Norway. But we didn’t have money. I had been working every day, all day,
    but because of the law in Norway, I hadn’t taken the step to actually
    produce money, because I risked losing my financial safety net every
    month. I had to really step out of my comfort zone to realize that this had to
    happen. I had to renounce that income in order to gamble on making my
    The government officials I was talking to while trying to figure out the best
    approach, had a very interesting way of wording themselves when I talked
    to them. I didn’t really get it back then, but as my competence levels grew
    in psychology and human behaviour, I noticed that they were intentionally
    planting seeds to keep me back. Maybe not intentionally, but they made it
    appear as if I needed them by my side to make this happen. By this, I mean
    sitting on my ass, receiving a bit of money every month. The system is
    meant to help you get up on your feet, but as there’s so many people
    abusing this system, those who have what it takes will suffer under the
    presumption that they’re a freeloader like so many other people in the
    I was defeated again. Before each meeting, I was hyped and eager to get
    on with this. After a few minutes, I was back in the hole. It’s interesting in
    retrospect. Words and thought patterns are powerful things. This made me
    focus on getting a solution for the mind. I had to find something that would
    give me more clarity and ease than what the daily meditation provided.
    Without really realizing it, I was at a huge milestone in my life. I delved into
    the human psyche and after a short while, I saw patterns that I didn’t notice
    before. I saw how things worked. I could look at a belief pattern and take it
    apart, then I could study every part of that pattern and end up at the cause
    of the problem. This in it by itself was a superpower that I had never
    experienced before. But it also triggered something within me. I wanted to
    know more. I craved information on the mind, so I started studying
    psychology, consciousness, mindset, neurology, biopsychology,
    biochemistry and everything I could get my hands on.
    When I talked to people and they had a problem in their life, I could see
    what they needed to do, not only to get out of the pit they were in, but
    actually see the path to a better life clearly. They got inspired and
    motivated to change their ways. It felt great!
    After a while, I had found a business that I could help, as a plan to get my
    family back to Norway. By family, I mean my daughter, but even though me
    and her mom had split up, her mom will always be a part of my family, no
    matter what. And I had made a promise when we first started our little
    adventure, to get her to Norway permanently. I always keep my word if
    there’s not a very good reason for not being able to do so. This had grown
    into somewhat of an obsession for me, because now it wasn’t just for our
    love, now it was for our family.
    So I started helping out the business. The owner had a very dark past, so
    in addition to helping with the brand stuff online and getting the business up
    and running, I helped with some insights and advice for her mentality and
    mindset. It was hard, because when you help people on the bottom, you’re
    giving your energy to get them up. If they don’t implement that and see a
    change, you won’t get that energy back and you’ll feel depleted. This is
    where things happened, that I’m not exactly proud of. It’s also one of the
    reasons as to why this chapter didn’t get written the first time I started
    writing this story.
    I view sex and love as two very seperate things. Sexual energy is powerful
    when it comes to adding confidence and changing belief patterns and I saw
    that it would do good in this situation.
    So I started to say things that would boost her confidence and get the
    energy needed to carry on in the business. She was on the last straw and
    doubted if this was something she could make successful. One thing led to
    another and we had sex. I was very conflicted while this was going on,
    because I still wanted to make it work with my ex.
    Because I live my life according to brutal honesty, I told my ex what had
    happened and I saw how I hurt her. I hated myself. But because of
    everything that had happened, we were able to get to a point where we
    could buy a plane ticket back home. Although I felt like a gigolo, I had
    managed to at least get them into the country again. I also knew that this
    had ruined a lot between me and my ex. We needed to get to know each
    other again, because I had, in her eyes, betrayed her trust. We weren’t
    together, but we still shared a powerful bond that needed to be fixed in the
    I couldn’t go on helping the business in the same degree for obvious
    reasons, so I did what I could from the computer back home. When I wasn’t
    working, I was hanging out with some friends and meeting people. I had
    been locked up in my office for so long, that I had to talk to other people
    and not focus on work. I connected with a guy that I didn’t really know that
    much from before. I was contacted by a mutual friend of ours and got
    invited to his house. They also told me that they were doing LSD. I became
    sceptical and slightly nervous, but because I had been studying the brain to
    the extent I had, I knew more about what it did to the brain chemistry, than
    what I had been told throughout my life.
    I had been told, basically since birth, that cannabis, LSD, magic
    mushrooms etc, were hardcore drugs. Junkies did those things. I was no
    junkie. But as I studied these subjects thoroughly, I realized that most of
    what I knew, had come from people who didn’t really know either. They had
    been told what it was, just like I had, and never really tried it for
    themselves. Through my journey into the human mind, I had developed a
    new habit: Never dismiss or talk about anything until you’ve tried it for
    yourself. So I did. I took the small piece of paper in my mouth shortly after I
    stepped into the living room.
    About 30 minutes after, the colors were brighter, my thoughts were broader
    and I had a sensation I had never felt before. I started talking to my friend
    who had tried this a few times and I saw that he was confused. How could I
    sit there, as a first timer, not freaking out? The answer was simple. I had
    read all the information about what psychedelics can do to your brain. I
    didn’t view this as a party drug, rather a medicine and an opportunity to
    gain clarity in my life. We talked for a while, before I found a way to get
    As I got back home, I sat down on the couch and pulled up my phone. I
    started recording my thoughts. I had read a lot about this, but I wasn’t sure
    if I would remember the insights I gained, so I wanted to store them
    somewhere safe. I rambled for hours. It was very interesting. I also realized
    that I could forget about going to bed. I was tired, but I was completely
    unable to sleep, so I got to work (I know, work on LSD?). It worked like a
    charm. I was hyper focused.
    When I finally got to bed, I woke up with a clarity that I had never
    experienced before. I realized that this was the true benefit of LSD. The
    day after the trip. Throughout the day, I worked, I cleaned, I made phone
    calls, I met friends, I did errands, I talked to my daughter, I did it all. Never
    before had I gone to bed in the evening in awe about how much I got done.
    So LSD was debunked, I had been lied to my entire adult life.
    Now, I’m not saying “Take LSD”, quite the opposite. If you haven’t
    researched the subject to a scary degree, things could go horribly wrong,
    so I’m not recommending anyone to do that. But it had peaked my interest.
    I started reading up on research papers from doctors who had studied
    psychedelics. There wasn’t a lot of information in the mainstream, but the
    deeper I got, the clearer it became. This was dangerous. Not to the
    average person, but dangerous to the systems holding us down. I saw that
    with the focus and insights one can gain from these things, it could threaten
    entire governments. A group of 100 people, who use this as a tool for
    improvement, could get ideas and revelations that could hurt the financial
    foundation of most big corporations. I understood the hippies. I finally
    understood the phrase “Stick it to the man”.
    I continued my research while preparing everything I needed for my girl’s
    return. Because of my bloodclot and the pain that ensued, I smoked
    cannabis sometimes for the pain. I thought it was only good as a pain
    medication. But again, I had been tricked into believing something that
    wasn’t true or just part of the picture. If I indulged, I didn’t do it for the
    “high”. I hate that sensation. I took one or two puffs, then grabbed a book or
    got to work. I understood that this was also a tool to better myself. I was
    happier, more focused, I got things done and I was a better human being.
    Well, better in most aspects of life, but even more pissed about the
    propaganda that had been spread about this. This was also a threat to the
    establishment, because of how effectively it crushed the chemically
    produced medications that I had been taking for the pain. The medications I
    got prescribed didn’t remove the pain and it gave me horrible side-effects.
    But a few puffs removed the pain and was 100% organic with no
    The more I learned, the more shocked I became. I became conscious of
    my eating habits, my routines, my way of interacting with other people and
    so on. I think that the only reason that people become addicts, is either
    because of a predisposition of addiction or lack of knowledge about what
    they’re doing. If they use it as party drugs with no respect for it, things go
    wrong. If they would educate themselves on what it can be used for and
    only use it for those reasons, it’s a medicine, capable of transforming lives.
    Unfortunately the governments are filled up with people who want to protect
    their interests or who are simply ignorant, unwilling to change their beliefs,
    even though they’ve never actually tried the things they are hating on.
    I continued to meet up with my friend from that initial LSD trip. We
    connected and I saw that I could help him break some barriers in his life.
    He also told me that even though he had done this before, he had never
    had those same revelations as he got when I talked to him.
    That made me realize that there’s a pattern to this. There might be a lot of
    people who do LSD and psychedelics, but because they don’t know what it
    can be used for, they’ll never really get anything from it, other than some
    visuals and a deeper understanding of music.
    We talked for some time at a coffee shop and got to know each other
    better. We started hanging out more and after a short time, we were like
    best buddies. We had shared things with each other that I wouldn’t share to
    myself in the mirror without being ashamed. That was extremely
    Then I got a text. “My cousin is in town, want to meet him? I think you’d like
    I figured why not? I had been meeting amazing people and shared some
    good conversations, so meeting a new buddy would be awesome. I picked
    up my friend and we drove to his aunt’s house where his cousin and his
    friends waited. As I pulled up, I was surprised as I spotted his cousin.
    Because of what I had been doing with my brain, I was really open minded
    and didn’t have much prejudice compared to before. I spotted this man and
    I thought, “He looks like he’s a model!” He had these chilled eyes, almost
    drowsy. He had long hair, that I used to hate, but he really pulled it off. He
    was fit and were dressed in a very casual surfer way. Turns out, he actually
    did surf, a lot.
    We got to talking and he shared some stories from his life. He lived in Bali,
    had family in Norway, born in the states (I think), and had grown up in
    Britain. It was really interesting. He was also educated within jewelry, which
    he did as a job. His dream was custom designs, made while he lived in
    Bali. The more he talked, the more intrigued I became. We figured we
    should shoot with a bow and arrow, because that’s something that we had
    started doing. While shooting, we talked some more and agreed to come to
    dinner at his house that night.
    We got back, went into the living room and the first thing I saw was this
    amazing view of the fjord outside the window. It was perfect. This day had
    gone from mediocre to epic really fast. His mother came and joined us.
    Turns out, he has his way of thinking because that’s how he was brought
    up. We discussed the important things in life, like passion, dreams, love,
    fulfilment and happiness. She asked the table if anyone had read The
    Alchemist. “I have”, I said. She was surprised, because it was rare that
    someone had actually read it when she asked. So the conversation took a
    different turn and we talked even more.
    I got a hug from everyone there as we left. I was told to get back whenever
    I wanted, because I was a part of the family now. I felt amazing. My life had
    changed. I went back home, found my copy of The Alchemist and read it
    again. This time, I understood even more of what the author wanted to
    The next morning, we agreed to meet again and take the gang out on a
    little adventure, showing the amazing sights that we knew they would love.
    On a vantage point above the city we started talking about deep stuff.
    Transformational stuff. It was on that day that I knew I was on to
    something. My research and my new-found knowledge about life, actually
    had a lot of value. As we discussed, we went into an intellectual sparring
    session. We had “Aha”-moments throughout our conversation and left that
    place as better humans. When you have someone that is on the same
    intellectual level as you and have valuable knowledge going back and forth
    that you can grow from, you can actually feel the change happening in your
    life. It was like a drug, we needed more.
    We began organizing bonfire trips, where we took a group of people and
    just talked around a campfire. Those who weren’t at that “level” yet, just
    listened and learned new things they could implement in their life. It was
    truly fulfilling, not only intellectual, but also because this was what I
    intended to do as a job! I can still remember the awesome feeling as we
    went around the fire, asking everyone what they did for a living. Some
    worked at a factory, others in a store, some on a boat, but when it came to
    me, I looked up into the canopy of the trees and smiled. “This.. This is my
    job” I said. That’s when my life changed.
    I had been living my life for quite some time on my own, not having a boss,
    just learning what I needed to learn in order to upgrade myself. This was
    the confirmation that I had to make something from this. I had to delve
    My new “alien brother” had to leave for Britain eventually. It was sad, but I
    knew we would see each other again when I got to Bali. So I continued my
    growth. I continued talking to the right people I needed in my life and build
    what was to become my dream.
    I started to really challenge myself. Get out of the comfort-zone and do
    things when I wanted to do them. Because of my cold therapy, I often spent
    my time in a sauna on the shore in my hometown. I sat in the sauna, then
    went into freezing cold water and stayed there for as long as I could. This
    had amazing effects on the clarity of my mind, the health of my lymphatic
    system and my general well-being. Who would have thunk?
    What I didn’t know back then, is that everything I did was adding to the
    value I could teach others. Techniques that could enhance their life,
    exercises that could get them motivated and mindsets that could change
    their life. I’d found what I needed to do with my life.
    I did this up until it was time to bring my loved ones back home.
    After 8 months and 12 days, I was on my way to pick them up from the
    airport again. I will always remember that feeling. I stopped by the place
    where they have the festival and walked around the park, remembering that
    first time I saw the love of my life. Remembering what this place did to my
    life. It was a powerful experience and it has grown to become somewhat of
    a sanctuary for me. A place where I can take long walks and be grateful for
    what I have learned and experienced, just because I attended a weekend
    at those hallowed grounds.
    It dawned on me as I was walking around, that I live a very extraordinary
    life. I’m completely free to do whatever I want, when I want. I had no boss
    that I had to ask for permission to take a roadtrip and I was happy.
    Additionally, the financial situation had changed for the better and
    continues to do so as long as I work for what I truly believe in. I had a tent
    and a sleeping bag in my car, just in case I wanted to stay out in nature one
    day. I was essentially completely free. I walked around, talking to the
    camera as I realised that I had reached my goals. And I had been enjoying
    those goals for quite some time.
    I continued to the airport and went to wait by the gate. It was 2:45pm and
    the plane was landing at 3pm. So I waited, anxious and slightly nervous to
    see my daughter again, hoping that she hadn’t forgotten about me. Time
    went by slowly. Time actually slowed down, I think, and now it was close to
    4pm. I had seen people flood out of the gate and fall into the arms of their
    loved ones. I could feel their happiness and joy as they felt the embrace by
    those closest to them. But the pieces of my heart that I was waiting for had
    yet to show up. Then people stopped coming through the gate. Time was
    standing still, but it said 4:11pm.
    All of a sudden, through the chaos that is an international airport, I heard a
    familiar pitch. “Daddyyyyyy?” I heard from the crowd, coming from the kiosk
    across the floor. I went toward the sound and scouted across the many
    scalps in front of me. That is one of the perks of being 6 feet tall. I saw my
    little bundle of love, sitting on her suitcases, looking for me. She was
    surprised as she saw me and I just embraced her. I picked her up, did a
    360 ballerina spin on my heels, while sniffing her hair and skin. It was a
    moment filled with pure love. She had a cold, so she wasn’t feeling too
    good. Additionally, they’d just landed from a 30+ hour plane trip, so I
    figured we’d take it slow and let her get used to me again. After all, she left
    Norway as a 1-year old. Now she was almost 2, which counted for half her
    life. Michelle received a kiss too, even though we weren’t together
    anymore. I’d of course missed her too.
    CHAPTER 15
    Welcome Home (Again)
    We walked over to the car and I just admired my little girl. She was walking
    like a champion! She had really improved her walking since last I saw her. I
    was enjoying every second of the ride. Finally. Finally, I had reached my
    goal. Finally things had worked out the way I hoped, but there was still
    something inside me that said “But for how long?”
    The government and the system that so many of us seem to enjoy, had
    betrayed me and my family for so long that I couldn’t remember a time
    where they weren’t a problem. A very long time had passed since we had
    been able to just relax and be together, without having some sort of
    setback that made it hard for us to live normal lives.
    Since my daughter was born, we have been working very hard to keep the
    food on our table and a roof over our heads. Financial aid that most people
    take for granted in Norway, like a one-time payout at birth to help the
    transition into parenthood, was denied, because Norway hadn’t yet
    accepted or approved my partner staying in the country. All rights went
    away. It didn’t even matter if I was Norwegian, caring for a Norwegian
    daughter. Because I was connected to her mother, I also lost all rights to
    any financial aid. Given our situation, that made it more important to just
    keep working for ourselves without the government and separate us from
    the system.
    According to the Norwegian law, even if I am the father of my 100%
    Norwegian child, I couldn’t receive the financial aid that a new mother
    normally is entitled to. Not without being her one and only guardian, taking
    everything from her mother. The only alternative to receive anything from
    the Norwegian government, would be if her mother was dead. It says so in
    the law, word by word. Given our financial situation, this made things very
    hard from the start.
    To top things off, I had been told that the smartest thing I could do, was
    being put on disability because of my bloodclot. But even if this was
    recommended by the government, it didn’t just happen without waiting for
    an extreme period of time first. In other words, if I had just laid back and
    waited, we wouldn’t eat or live anywhere. I couldn’t start working because
    of the risk of fainting on the job or a worsening of my condition. That was
    the only reason I agreed to the disability thing in the first place, to have
    some sort of a financial failsafe if things were to go wrong again. At least
    then I could’ve worked without risking everything.
    Instead, we’ve been waiting since 2014. In other words, before my family
    even became a family. Before I even became a father. That is most of the
    reason as to why I am where I am today. In order to survive and have
    money for food, I had to take matters into my own hands. We sold almost
    everything we owned to buy food. We saved every penny and sometimes
    lived an entire week on $20. Every piece of furniture that we own, has been
    handed down or found in swap-groups on Facebook. I had to borrow
    money to pay for essential bills and the hole we were in just got deeper as
    time passed.
    I needed a plan to secure our future. I started to educate myself within
    everything I know today. That has made it possible to earn some money
    when we were desperate. I gave people services for a small fee, in order to
    work within the laws and limits of the government. If they were to think I
    had a real job, they would ruin us even more and I could’ve explained how
    it was a means of survival until the cows came home, and they wouldn’t
    have cared. We’re nothing but numbers to them.
    The system has ruined too many people to even count by just making them
    wait while they barely have enough to survive. I didn’t want to become a
    statistic that only walks around at home while waiting for the system to
    create my tomorrow. They ignited a spark in me that wouldn’t fade. It got
    stronger and stronger as the obstacles became more frequent. I couldn’t sit
    and watch as this happened anymore.
    With my family back home, we got to work to make them stay here, so that
    my daughter could have a safe and happy childhood, like every child
    deserves. We collected all the documentation we needed for the
    application, we scraped together the $1000 that the government required to
    simply send the application, which is a fucking horrendously high amount
    for people with no money. By the way, that doesn’t mean that they’ll stay. If
    the person filing the application is late for lunch, chances are that they’d hit
    “Reject” to save time, even though they decide the fate of families with the
    click of a button. We turned in the application October 11th 2019.
    After that day, I’ve noticed my mind come back to life. Thoughts and ideas
    are actually appearing again and I can feel my creative spark growing. I’m
    more focused and I’m able to think freely. I could start building our future
    again, finally. I will keep working until we’ve crossed the finish line. Even
    though me and my girlfriend broke up, we remain friends, doing everything
    for my daughter. Who knows, when this hell is finally over and done with,
    maybe we’ll try again. At least we don’t have an expiration date (that we
    know of) before they have to leave again.
    Today we’re still waiting for a response and don’t know if it’ll be denied or
    approved. We followed all of their rules and every single requirement in the
    application is met, but we’re cautious about celebrating anything in this
    family, given our history with the government. We enjoy each day as well
    as we can and try to make the best out of the situation.
    Every day, I get up at 5am to work on our future.
    The outcome of the debt
    At every job I managed to hold on to for a little while, I worked my ass off.
    That might have been what triggered the clot to act up, but I paid almost
    every cent back towards the debt for a very long time. In 2016, after having
    done this for 5 years, the government saw that I was willing to pay my debt,
    but because of my young age, I’d never truly get to start life if I continued to
    do so, so they “wrote off” big portions of it. In Norway, we have a financial
    rescue plan, where you get one big break. Luckily for me, that happened on
    the biggest debt imaginable. I received my lesson, I gained insight and a
    new mentality. After paying all the money I received for so long to the
    government, I understood that I could never live like that again. And so I
    took action and began working on myself.
    We all have a choice in life, to either lay down and give up or rise up and
    fight like there’s no tomorrow. I choose the latter. We all have equal rights
    to live on this planet and to live a truly happy and free life. This is
    something many people don’t understand. They think they have to get an
    education, get a job, buy a house and work for the rest of their life to pay
    for the house they never get to enjoy. They think they need a job that they
    hate and that they have to give their precious time to an employer who
    doesn’t value them, all for a bit of paper.
    It used to be like that, but the world has changed. It’s not the same as it
    was 10 years ago. We have a new economy and everyone can live their
    dream life if they have the tools to do so. Now, it’s my mission to share that
    opportunity with as many people as I can, to free the world, piece by piece.
    Most of us don’t even notice the beauty of the planet we live on. We don’t
    notice the spectacular colors in a sunset or sunrise, we don’t feel the wind
    on our faces from the top of a mountain with an amazing view. We don’t
    see the opportunities that we all have to create and live the life we want for
    ourselves. To be truly free. I know way too many people who talk about
    financial freedom as if it’s just a romantic dream, only found in movies and
    daydreams. Our gorgeous nature gets reduced to a backdrop that zooms
    across our window as we are heading to a job we hate. Well not me. Not
    Today you’re able to pick up a smartphone and share an idea with people
    all over the world, in a matter of seconds. In the old days, they wrote letters
    in the hope that the recipient would be alive to answer. The world has
    changed, but most of us are conditioned by the stories we get told from the
    day we are born. We get conditioned to think in a specific way, get
    bombarded with people fighting for our attention and we get numb, unable
    to do shit about our life. That is mind control in my opinion. I learned how to
    reprogram the brain and set it free through science, quantum physics,
    biohacking and meditation.
    Because of the shit I’ve experienced since the early 2000’s, I’ve been
    granted several different perspectives on life. These perspectives and
    insights prevents me from living life in any other way than how I choose. I
    have a responsibility to share that knowledge and wisdom with as many
    people as I can in order to rip them out of the shackles holding them back
    and give them the tools they need to live life as they want. Their dream life,
    whatever that may look like.
    Death comes for us all, if we’re ready or not doesn’t matter. If people had
    realised this and really understood the significance of their life, they would
    take matters into their own hands. They wouldn’t postpone a phone call to
    a loved one or cancelled something they wanted to do because of “What
    Many don’t provide their children with the guidance and tools they need to
    fully develop into themselves. They follow a system that has been followed
    for generations. That is the worst thing one can do to a child. It could be as
    simple as saying “You colored the sun green.. That is wrong, the sun is
    yellow you silly thing.” Might seem innocent, but enough of those
    corrections and you’ve created another drone, doomed to live the same
    year over and over again, calling it life. Additionally, most people haven’t
    lost their children. But for those who have, you know the importance of
    enjoying every nanosecond with them. This doesn’t apply to everyone, of
    course, but it applies to enough people to make a significant impact on the
    world. All of us are products of our upbringing and will continue to pass on
    the values and rules that society has placed upon us. Well, I’ve found that a
    lot of those truths are lies. This is not personal opinion, it is science backed,
    measurable facts.
    We live in our own tiny bubbles, where the conversation is about work, how
    much we hate work and what negativity we experience on a daily basis. We
    complain about the weather, money and other people. If there’s nothing to
    complain about, most of the time the conversation falls dead. I don’t know
    how many times I’ve witnessed this. It’s sad.
    Live life as if the opportunity is gone tomorrow. Feel the hot water in the
    shower, as if it’s the last shower you’ll ever have. Enjoy being cold and
    miserable! Enjoy the smiles of your children and of every person you
    encounter. Enjoy being able to sit in a chair without pain. Don’t live your life
    from the views of other people and what they advise you to do. It’s your life.
    I live by one principle: Never speak about or guide others in situations you
    don’t have first hand experiences from. That is how we’re kept in boxes all
    over the world. We get told that things should be this and things should be
    that, but if you start to take matters into your own hands and check things
    out for yourself, you’ll see that you’ve heard a lot of lies and personal
    opinions during your life.
    It’s not a pleasant feeling, to know you’ve been lied to, but after this
    revelation, you’re on your way to a completely new life. I am proof of that.
    If you’re planting a garden, you should do it by how you want your garden
    to turn out. Don’t listen to that pesky neighbor who’s always hanging over
    the fence and giving you advice. His garden looks like a warzone. We take
    other people’s advice to heart way too easily. They usually don’t know how
    you view the world and they give you advice based on how they see it.
    When people give advice like this, they have usually received that same
    piece of advice from someone else, who’s also just a part of a long line of
    puppets, listening to what everyone else thinks life should be like. Try
    things out for yourself. Make your own experiences.
    We’re told what’s right and wrong by a system driven by money and profit.
    Those who earn the profits, often own the media that shares the news and
    thus keep everything relevant or important out of your life. Lives get lost
    because of the drive for profit.
    Focus on humans and on what makes us “us”. Take control over your own
    life and live the life you were meant to live. Just the fact that you were born
    at all is an event so unlikely that you’d have a bigger chance of winning the
    lottery every day of your life. Again, that’s a mathematical fact. But we don’t
    see the opportunities before it’s too late. With no real pain, there will be no
    real motivation to change. I hope I can make you live without experiencing
    the pain first.
    I hope my stories have motivated you and makes you take action.
    This book is about a few of the things that have made me who I am today
    and granted me the life I live. It’s nothing more than a chronological
    presentation of the things I gained a lot of insight from. I want to end it with
    a little story about my daughter.
    My 2-year old daughter was sitting on the floor with an 8-piece puzzle. She
    was furiously trying to force the pieces in where they didn’t fit. Just as she
    was about to give up in frustration, I gently guided her hands over the
    piece, turning it until it slid into place.
    My daughter’s face lit up as she realized what had just happened. I could
    see that the reality she lived just a few seconds before was gone. She
    became more free in a chaotic world right in front of my eyes. Free to do
    more on her own. She picked up the next piece and placed it perfectly,
    without my help. She smiled from ear to ear and shouted “LOOK!” at both
    her mother and me. She was so proud of what she’d just done.
    What she taught me in that moment, is what I’m devoted to now. Because I
    have solved puzzles before, I could guide her through the struggle. I knew
    where the pieces went before I even looked at the puzzle. It was only 8
    pieces, so it was painfully simple for me. But not for her. She hadn’t solved
    that riddle yet.
    During my life I’ve experienced events that almost killed me. Taking away
    all will to carry on with my life. I’ve solved puzzles ranging from 8 pieces to
    puzzles with a seemingly endless amount of pieces, that seemed
    impossible when I was in the middle of it. Because I’ve solved these kinds
    of puzzles so frequently throughout my life, I have the ability to not only
    help her with the easy puzzles, but the extremely hard ones too when she
    needs it.
    This applies to all humans in general. We all have a life, where some have
    it rougher than others, some are taught more than others and some people
    possess the insights and knowledge others need. My job is to help and
    guide my fellow human beings with their puzzles and problems, to enable
    them to handle harder and more difficult situations in the future. I guide
    people towards Financial Freedom, Mental Freedom and Location
    Freedom. FML.
    Sometimes it doesn’t take more than one sentence to change a life. I am
    living proof of that.
    If you want to follow this adventure as more content gets produced or if you
    want information about how to live life on your own terms, you are more
    than welcome to join our group on Facebook or follow our blog. Life is an
    adventure and I want to demonstrate that to you with the hope that you
    choose to break free from the life you don’t love with every cell of you body.
    Join us. Join The Tribe and The FML Project and let us make an impact.
    Facebook Page:
    Thank you so much for honoring me with your time to read some of
    my stories.

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About the Author


Tor is a Legacy Forger by heart. He wants to create a better world by showing Freedom Fighters how to create the life they truly want; independent and in control over their time, thoughts, income, and geographical location.