About Me
Values and Philantrophy
My Mission
I am an internationally published author and philosopher, and have also been involved in dance, theatre, and other types of performance art, in addition to visual art exhibitions.
Previously, I had an Instagram account with 100,000 followers, where I conducted studies and had surveys. I also have my own theories in quantum physics and astrophysics, and work with experiments and the development of inventions.
What I spend the most time on, however, is trying to reach out to politicians and political advisers about changing the law. Norway's society has the victim role as the main currency, and reputation is the trump card of legislation (no pun intended).
One of my two biggest visions in life is to work at the national level to strengthen individuals' identity. In the first place, by breaking the restrictions on writing, and freedom of thought.
Vision number two is to work against big tech and their programming of the world's population, which, among other things, leads to the death of children by eating disorders. When I revealed my findings and evidence of instagrams' profit of algorithms recommending dieting to children seeking out "thinspo" – Instagram deactivated my account permanently, within minutes, on the basis of "political statements". Big tech is today's biggest cause of child death, as well as the severe passivization of people, leading to no one being able to live a meaningful life.
I also support many charities, but would particularly like to mention two small charity organizations here, "Fugleadvokatene" and "Myas Omplassering for Pusehjerter", working to help city birds and homeless cats (yes I am playing both fields).
Organizations, philanthropists and causes I support
My Business Associates
The beginning of the reckoning
Cecilie Kure - A Tale of Betrayal and possible Redemption
Let me introduce you to Cecilie Kure, a woman who once held a significant place in my life as my father's ex-girlfriend and the mother of my two cherished half-sisters. However, during a time when I had nothing to my name and resided in Sweden, Cecilie imposed upon me the unfair burden of financing my own travel expenses to Norway, where she expected me to provide free babysitting services, all the while depriving me of the chance to bond with my sisters, as they were always fast asleep.
Years later, desperate to get to know my sisters, Cecilie blackmailed me into staying quiet about my father. As the years passed and my sisters grew older, I found it increasingly difficult to continue living a lie – pretending that my relationship with my father was harmonious.
Memories of my childhood haunted me, where my father had once choked me mercilessly until I lost consciousness and used me as his target while throwing knives. At the age of fourteen, I made the decision to sever all ties with him.
When I confided in Cecilie about my inability to carry on with the facade, she responded with a cruel ultimatum. She selfishly declared that I was forbidden from ever speaking to my sisters again. In my heart, I have found forgiveness for my father's past transgressions, but Cecilie, the embodiment of deceit, cannot be absolved until she acknowledges the TRUTH. My arms are outstretched, my dear weak daughter Cecilie, here I am, your souls’ liberation from the clutches of your humanity.
Hallelujah
Anne Marie Waag: A Tale of Shadows
Anne Marie Waag, my mother, bears the weight of her past transgressions, I see it in her eyes. Though there are countless sins she has committed, today I will unveil just one dark chapter.
From the tender age of six, my mother, aided by doctors, subjected me to a relentless drugging regime, with rivotril and other potent substances. The ordeal was so severe that I frequently required adrenaline shots to the neck as my breathing would cease. Unbeknownst to me, I also battled undiagnosed asthma, a condition that would only be revealed in my adulthood. Each night became a battle for air, as I was denied the simple act of breathing.
During my tumultuous years as a teenager, I reached a breaking point. Consuming three entire boxes of rivotril, I slipped into a coma for an agonizing three weeks, with the fourth week erased from my memory entirely. Abruptly, the psychiatry team decided to strip away the paralyzing sedatives that had held me captive since the age of six, replacing them with a bewildering cocktail of various stimulants, in the speed family. This concoction resulted in a sleepless existence, as I remained awake for an unbelievable yet true - five weeks.
The consequences of this harrowing journey have left an indelible mark on my life. Severe nerve damage has plagued me, forcing me to rely on betablockers from the age of eighteen, ruining my ability to sleep and to breathe while drowsy, as my autonomic nervous system shuts off.
When my mother subjected me to the psychiatry, I also fell victim to sexual assault at the hands of Simon, the head doctor at the Sognsvann psychiatric institution.
My Earthly mother, I endeavor to forge you in new light, will you accept your savior?
The Disgrace of Dr Simon
In a horrifying encounter, Dr. Simon seized me without cause, lifting me up while violating my personal boundaries by intruding beneath my skirt and undergarments. He callously carried me across the premises, his hands persistently trespassing on my most intimate areas, towards the building where the children were confined. With a sense of dread, I was deposited onto a bed in the room I was assigned, leaving me terrified of rape. Abruptly, he exited the room, vanishing from my sight forever. Sanja, a recently appointed psychiatrist from Eastern Europe, was one of many who bore witness to the distressing event. She apologized to me for what happened, and for the fact that she feared doing anything about it. Many of the social workers who also bore witness to the sexual assault were laughing as it happened. Shortly after this shocking incident, I was relocated to another institution. Considering Simon assaulted me so publicly, in front of all his coworkers – I am absolutely convinced that he has committed much worse sexual assault to countless children.
Uranienborg School, and their sexy children
During my time at Uranienborg School, it became evident that there were pedophiles who had been employed there for a disturbingly long period of time, approximately two decades. This realization dawned on me when I stumbled upon school photos from twenty years ago featuring the same individuals I knew to be pedophiles. Curiosity led me to speak with former students who had attended the school ten years prior, five years prior, and every year in between. Astonishingly, it seemed that the children at Uranienborg School had always been aware of the presence of these pedophiles, exerting their control over the institution.
At the tender age of six, in first grade, I mustered up the courage to rally two of my classmates and report one of these pedophiles to the principal. He served as a support teacher for a particular student, but his behavior was deeply troubling. He had a habit of forcefully placing girls on his lap, clutching us in his grasp until we cried, while pressing his erection against us. When we confronted the principal about this distressing situation, she responded with anger, accusing us of lying. As a consequence, I faced severe punishment from my mother.
Gunnar Bjelle, our gymnastics teacher who the children aptly nicknamed, was eventually convicted as a pedophile, as was one of our janitors. Gunnar had been a longstanding member of the teaching staff. If only the principal had heeded my words or the countless testimonies of other children who had come forward, these horrific acts of child abuse would have been prevented.
Regrettably, the remaining pedophiles were not brought to justice, including the support teacher whom I had alerted the principal about, and a staff member at the after-school facility who targeted young boys. I possess statements from students detailing the sexual assaults they endured at the hands of these individuals, although I am not ready to disclose these specific accounts at this time. Should the survivors, whose lives were irreversibly altered by the horrors of Uranienborg School, wish for me to share these statements in the future, I will do so.
It remains uncertain whether some of these pedophiles were still employed at the school when Princess Ingrid Alexandra attended years later. It is disheartening to ponder such a contrasting reality within our seemingly perfect nation.
Be content no more, for fear shall come to release you from your complacency