Becoming an author: Part One “The silliest dreams of them all”

My “secret” dream has always been to become a bestselling novelist and a play writer. Why did I put the “” on the word secret?  Well, I may or may not have told someone about this bizarre dream, I am actually not quite sure. So I will be referring to it as a rather “secret” dream.
When I was a child, around the age of 3-10, I had a very vivid imagination(Which I would say I still have..) I would have the most obscene nightmares, the most wonderful daydreams and the most bizarre thoughts in my head. I could dream about a 10 store tall T-Rex killing my whole town with its fiery breath. (YES, I dreamt that T-Rex could breath fire. Don’t judge me, I was a kiddo.) 

I could dream about living in  the middle ages, where mean men ruled the village, and that I was to face the question on who in my family that had to die.I literally dreamt that the mean men would pay my village a visit, come to my family’s farm, take every single family member outside, and that the men/soldiers told me to pick one of them to die. (These dreams very usually seriously obscene and freaky. A normal kid would probably never dream of such choices. ) 

I would also dream about vampires living by the fields just outside where I lived, and that I paid them a visit every night, and that I got just as scared to see them every time.

I also remember one dream in particulair; at the playground at the school there would live a dangerous monster with the largest, sharpest teeth I had ever seen. In the dream the monster was huge, but could turn itself smaller so it would fit better in the playground, and he was green and wanted to eat us.

Man, Just reading through this makes me wonder how I even survived my childhood. 

Just to make you understand me a little bit better; I recently dreamt that Ozzy Osbourne was running after me in Oslo,  wanting to rape me. That dream was very awkward.  That’s I’ll I’ve got to say about that. .

I could also add that I once dreamt about a man eating another man’s face. Starting from his cheeks. That was pretty rad actually, cause the dream was so lifelike and real. 
Things like my dreams and my insanely weird imagination makes me want to write things down. I want to write crime, romance, horror, children’s books, potetry etc etc. 
I have written my whole life. I remember writing a 20 pages long Christmas story, that I read for my class when I was in 8th grade. It was about some pixies/goblins/gnomes/tiny santaclauses living on a farm. The story was obviously sat around Christmas times, and it was rather cute. I would still be able to re-tell the whole story, but I think that it would fit a lot better for a Norwegian audience, because of our traditions around the whole “Christmas thing.”I just fits better in our culture than it would with the American or Indian or wherever you’re from
There was once a crime that I started to write, probably in January, when I was about 10 years old. It was supposed to be a easter crime, which I’m not quite sure is a Scandinavian/Norwegian tradition as well as “nisser på loven.” ( easter crime is easily explained this way; us Norwegians read a lot of crime novels around easter, often crime novels that is about something that has to do with out traditional easter, like going to the cabin in the mountains etcetera. We also watch more crime on the television, listen to podcasts where they read from crime books, and there will even be short comic strips on our milk cartons which is themed with crime/detective topics.)

Back to the crime novel I was writing; I remember sitting down in front of the computer, writing page up and page down. I even researched the different guns/pistols I wanted to be in the text. I chose a Colt instead of the regular Glock, etc etc. I wrote it for my dad. Sadly I seem to remember that he never got to read it, simply because I was never able to finish it, and thus not being readable for anyone, in my opinion.
Yesterday the local news paper called me and asked me about my writing. They had made notice of my name from an article that was made by the same paper just a year ago, where I was one of the oldest who attended a writing course over a week with another author. The news paper wanted to know if I had written anything more, and they seemed interested to know what I did now, and if My plans wore to become an author. 

I sent them my full play, which I wrote in July 2015,and I will probably send them more..
I will keep writing a part two before this week ends.

Pre-workout thoughts 

First of all, I’d like to tell you that this is a pre-workout post. And by pre-workout  I mean “pre” as in 2 weeks before a workout post.
I thought I’d write a short, hopefully humorous, little post. 50% cause I think it would be fun for you guys to read, and 50% because I need more reasons to kick myself in the buttom and work out. So I hope you’ll enjoy this little post. 

Things that makes me want to work out:
1. To get the sexiest and most desirable body I can have. Duhh. 

2. I’m getting older. Will I be able to transform back into a sportsfreak before its to late? Probably not. So I have to start now. Right? 

3. I want to go to the beach at 1pm, while there are PEOPLE AT THE BEACH, who can SEE MY BODY, without feeling like a blue whale . Yes. I said it.
4. I want to eat a meal from the shittiest of the shitty food places, the oh so beloved Micky D, and I want to know that all the calories will magically dissappear as I work out afterwards. Cause I will have the muscly flat stomach all the others will envy.
5. I want to post photos online.  Brag photos, progress photos, to show people I am determined and strong. And that I can do whatever I want. 

Wait, this wasn’t so funny.  Well heck. 
I also want to be able to run 3 km without dying.  Can’t believe I could run 12 km some years ago, and still be up for more after that. Darn it. What on earth happened. …



Nvm I know exactly what happened.

– TM

When you don’t know what you feel

“When you don’t know what you feel” is the worst feeling you can have, in my opinion . This post will be as confusing as the topic itself. Enjoy.

When your feelings are dancing around more lightly dressed than Channing Tatum in Magic Mike XXL, It gets diffecult to be secure. When you don’t know  if you’re happy, sad, angry or just don’t give a fuck about a certain person/object/happening. That feeling is intolerable. It makes us insecure. It makes me confused and it drains me of my energy. Why on earth can’t our brains have different buttons, which we should be able to click on, that would make us feel said feeling, without having to be confused on what feeling we should feel as well. Damn, I bet you five pound you have never read a sentence with that many repeats of the word “feeling”/ “feel” in your entire life. Nailed it.
Anyway; as I am a human being – at least that’s what people tell me- I got feelings for other people. The feelings don’t necessarily need to be good,  but they are feelings, and I can respect that. If I despise someone, I feel that. If I like or love someone, I feel that too. BUT, and here comes the biggest but of this entire blog; WHY ON EARTH, WHY WHY WHY, WHY CAN’T OUR BRAINS DECIDE ON WETHER TO BE HAPPY OR SAD, WHEN ANOTHER HUMAN BEING IS INVOLVED IN THE CONFUSMENT? (<– I’m not even sure if that’s really a word.)
There have been people who has been the biggest C**ts to me while sober, but while drunk they would be all ” aye matey, fancy some more vodka? Maybe even some snuggles?” And this has had a weird effect on how I view them while sober, and while they are preposterously huge c**ts. Yes, I’ve thought to myself these times

“Oh my, maybe it’s just their self esteem that’s shit, and maybe they are their true self when drunk, so maybe I should have better feelings and thoughts around these people, now that I know they are not C**ts while drunk. .”

NO NO NO. Stop. Why is my brain doing this? Why can’t it accept that people are c**ts and move on. Rage. Deeper, inner rage.
God Damn it. I’ve done it again. I’ve written a post about nonsense. Great.
I’ll update it when I got time.

This post actually need a refined look. A touch of a woman who isn’t half to sleep while writing. <- me every time I write anything on this page.
Good night, lovelies
I will fix this later as well. Yay for publishing 40% done posts.


Note: I never fixed it, and probably never will 🙂


Me-Time is not something I usually want. I usually want to be with people. One of my favorite things to do is having long conversations, debating, listening to other people’s opinions on this and that, but sometimes, quietness and peace is really nice.

I have recently traveled back home from where I study, and partially live my own life by myself. I don’t really have tons of connections where I study, and that is quite alright. My days up in Volda is usually lived alone, with some minor visits outside, café trips and small parties, and of course casually hanging out on the couches of my friends living rooms. The Me-Time I have in Volda is usually un-wanted, but again highly appreciated on some days.

Today is one of the days where I want to be alone, so therefor I decided to jump on the bus, then the tube, down to Oslo’s best café, Café Sør ( or Cafe South If translated to English.) Here I can enjoy some peace and quiet, with myself, black coffee and a magazine or book. I also vent full crazy and bought a glass of olives. Olives is better than anything imo.

The weather isn’t nice, but that’s alright. You don’t need sun every day, especially when you can get coffee for 30 nok then refills for 10 nok. Buy ALL the coffee. Hehe.


I hope You are having a nice day. I will finish up this history-magazine and then keep reading in my newly bought Kate Morton book.

Best wishes


Insecurity – No thanks

Insecurity, where do I start?
There is a lot of things I’d like to discuss when it comes to these matters, the way insecurity poisons our brains and hearts, keeping us from doing what we want. Insecurity is pure poison.

The way it forces us to believe the worst, eliminating every positive outcome of a situation.  Insecurity is pain.

I’ve always wondered why I feel insecure when it comes to certain topics, whether it is topics involving love or hate, or even politics.

Why can’t we force ourselves to think better about us.  About you. About me. Why do most of us always seek out the worst possible ending, and never take the last leap for the better, happier ending?

What I learned these past day, is that no matter what, you need to suck it up, and get through with it. No matter what it is ( as long as it doesn’t involve killing innocents, for the love of me, please don’t do that, no matter how insecure you are… derp)

Some days ago I forced myself in a position so intolerable that I rather wanted to die than face reality. Of course, my insecurity was so strong that I managed to avoid the insanely embarrassing moment, but now I regret not doing what I wanted so bad. And still want.

It’s not a matter of insecurity, it’s a matter of how you want to view yourself a week after a situation, a year for that cause. Don’t fool yourself,  telling yourself ” it’s not worth it” when you get insecure. Don’t do it. You never know when a chance will slip through your fingers like jelly.
If you let insecurity guide your decisions and your heart, you will never find true happiness.

Atleast, these are my thoughts. If you ever really want something,but you get too insecure to go forth with it to anyone it may concern, sit down for a moment and think; there are TWO, or more, possible outcomes. Either it will go positive,  or negative, or something in between. There will ALWAYS BE a chance of failure, which also means there will ALWAYS BE a chance of success.

I believe in you.

– Thea Müller


Lofilter- ikke behandle meg som ett

Vi har alle hørt om mauren og støvla, en sammenligning mellom en turgåer som tråkker på en liten og uskyldig maur, og mennesker som tråkker ned på andre medmennesker under andre omstendigheter. Eksempler på dette er i jobbsammenheng, skolesammenheng og generelt i hverdagen blant venner og noen ganger også i familie.

Dette lille innlegget handler derimot ikke om mauren. Det er det viktig å få med seg. Innlegget handler om en liten, men svært betydelig gjenstand i en svært ubetydelig tørketrommel. Lofilteret.

Et Lofilter som tilhørere en tørketrommel som står på en hybel med mange folk, får gjennomgå flere ganger daglig.

Lofilteret fylles opp med ….Lo, skit og annet kvasst man helst ikke vil ha i den rene og fine tørketrommelen.

Hver gang tørketrommelen er ferdig, Så skal lofilteret egentlig tømmes. Hva skjer om lofilteret IKKE tømmes, men blir brukt om igjen og om igjen til det blir stappfult? Vel kjære leser, da kan det begynne å brenne. Og det vil brenne kraftig og lenge. Som regel blir dog lofilteret tømt ihvertfall etter 3 runder med varme, og våte klær, men trodde du at absolutt all loen ble med ut av maskinen når du tømte det ene filteret? Da kan du tro om igjen.

Det finnes nemlig ENDA et Lofilter.  Dette ligger gjerne under tørketrommelen, og er der for nødsskyld. Hvor ofte blir dette tømt da, på studenthybelen? Jeg skal la deg gjette.

Nettopp. Det blir ikke tømt med mindre en elektriker tilfeldigvis har Vært innom og lagt merke til at det begynner å lukte rart på vaskerommet, og som så sier fra til huseier at den må tømmes, som gjerne noen dager senere sender melding til hybelfellesskapet og ber dem fikse det lille og ubetydelige problemet. Dette må sies med store bokstaver; LOFILTERET ER IKKE ET LITE OG UBETYDELIG PROBLEM.

Jeg vet ikke om du forsto teksten min om lofilteret eller ikke, men siden verden er full av mennesker uten imaginasjon og frie tanker, skal jeg skrive den rett ut for deg.

Jeg, som mange andre, opplever å få drit slengt til meg av ulike grunner, og på svært ulike måter.

Det kan Være alt fra småfrekke kommentarer om vekt og utseende, til at noen på jobben eller eventuelt skolen ikke stoler på at du kan gjøre et arbeid du har sagt du kan, og heller gir deg en enklere og mindre krevende oppgave.
Dagene går, og man holder kjeft om alt. Man vil ikke Være til bry, ved å stå opp for seg selv. Man ønsker ikke å rette DEN oppmerksomheten på seg sjæl. Man ønsker iallefall ikke Være DEN personen som sier imot det f.eks en gruppe eller sjefen sier (selvom man ofte har gode ideer og/eller tanker og meninger.)
Se for deg at du er lofilteret. Du blir brukt i møter, der du av en eller annen grunn får stygge stikk av de andre, på en måte som ikke er åpenbar,  men som allikevel er tydelig for deg. Du sier ingen ting. Du tar til deg alt de synser og sier. Så går du hjem. Da har ditt Lofilter begynt å nærme seg fullt, men du går til skolen og Gjør det samme igjen imorgen uansett. Hvorfor? Fordi du er redd for å stå opp for deg selv. Jeg vet hvorfor du er redd. Det er ikke fordi du vil Være frekk, og du er egentlig ikke redd for hva de andre vil gjøre eller si om deg, men du har leveregler. Du har etikken innabords. Du ønsker ikke skape konflikt. Du er ikke DEN personen.
Andre ser ikke at du fylles opp. Når det første filteret har blitt så fullt at du velger å sette deg ned å skrive om det på en bloggtjeneste på nett, kan du slappe litt lettet av. Du fikk jo ihvertfall utløp for tankene dine?

Det er viktig å ikke glemme Lofilter nr. 2. Det absolutt viktigste lofilteret. Selvom du får utløp for noen av dine Tusen tanker når du setter deg ned for å skrive, vil det alltid Være en klump med æsj inni deg. Den klumpen får du ikke gjort noe med. Det eneste som kan hjelpe på den klumpen er om en annen person står opp og sier at det må fikses. Akkurat som Lofilter nr. 2 i tørketrommelen.

Skjønte du fortsatt ikke teksten?

Vel, da skal jeg på en mild og god måte si at du trenger å lese flere bøker om andre mennesker, eventyr eller noe som ikke har med virkeligheten å gjøre. Slutt å sitt foran Facebook og instagram og samle opp følgere og venner. Lær deg å tolke tekst isteden.





Sleep well, Bowie

“A legend, an icon, a weirdo. An inspiration to the world, both in music and community.”



David Bowie, born the 8th of January 1947 and passed away the 10th of January 2016 was a world famous rock/pop star. I’ve listened to his most famous songs hundreds of times, without really thinking much about the artist. All I knew was that he had a phase in life where he wore facepaint shaped as a lightning. I guess this must be because I was born in 1996, therefor too young to know what a big inspiration and rebell Bowie was. Now I know. 

Photo: Brian Duffy, Duffy Archives.   This was from the album cover shoot for Aladdin Sane, 1973

After reading countless of articles and listning to his music continously for two days in a row, I’ve started to feel an incredible attraction to his music and his styles. This man was a genius. I’ve known about the songs “Starman”, “Life on Mars”, “Lets Dance”, “Space Oddity” and “Under Pressure” since I was a little girl, but I hadn’t really listened to any other of his works. What really impressed me was after these couple of days I’ve completly fallen for his music. This impresses me because I usually know what artists I like, and what their stories are. Music is almost as important to me as sleeping and eating. I am hardly ever seen without music on my ears, and therefor I’ve listened to a lot of different music throughout my soon-to-be 20 years. 



Bowie’s music is interesting, different, deep, light, dark, you-name-it. He made songs I can dance to, cry to, run to, fly to.

According to BBC Bowie’s first hit in the UK – 1969’s Space Oddity – was used by the BBC in its coverage of the moon landing. If this isn’t cool, I don’t know what else is.  Some of the other cool things I’ve read about him earlier this week was that he hadn’t declined one knighthood, but TWO! If I’m right, being knighted in the UK  means that you will get a public name with “Sir” or “Lady” infront of your name?  Anyway – Let’s just face is, Bowie was a different(IN A GREAT WAY) human being, and we all wish we could’ve got to know him before he left us.



Clip from the music video “Blackstar” from Bowie’s new album “Blackstar”.

Even though most of us never got to meet him, or even see him live, he did leave us something before he left us. The new album “Blackstar” came out the 8th of January this year, on his 69th birthday. Many people seem to believe that this album was Bowie’s goodbye to us all. I do believe that myself, after listning to it. It is really deep, and just the melodies makes me feel uncomfortable in a comfortable way. Like he tried to tell me, us, something with the melodies. If we forget the melodies for a second, and focus on his extraordinary lyrics you might see what I was talking about when I said that Bowie ment this album to be his goodbye.


look up here, I’m in heaven
I’ve got scars that can’t be seen
I’ve got drama, can’t be stolen
Everybody knows me now
Look up here, man, I’m in danger

I’ve got nothing left to lose
I’m so high it makes my brain whirl
Dropped my cell phone down below

Ain’t that just like me

By the time I got to New York
I was living like a king
Then I used up all my money
I was looking for your ass

This way or no way
You know, I’ll be free
Just like that bluebird
Now ain’t that just like me

Oh I’ll be free
Just like that bluebird
Oh I’ll be free
Ain’t that just like me

If you want to refresh your memory of the musician, spotify got a “best of David Bowie” Album that I could really recommend.


David Bowie was, and still is a legend, an icon, a weirdo. An inspiration to the world, both in music and community, and I am lucky to have lived at the same time as he did.

May you rest in peace, Bowie.


  • Thea Müller




The post today was made because I wanted to write a little bit more about David than just a Instagram post. I know I’m not a journalist, and I know that my knowledge of Bowie might not be as good as yours, but I do know that I am really,really,really greatful I discovered more of his music, and not just only his most populaire songs.I am however deeply heavyhearted when it comes to important people passing, and Bowie was indeed an important person. Listning to his music makes me really emotional these days


Other than that, I’m doing good, still attending school, still studying for my Bachlor in PR. I will try to write atleast one post or article a week, maybe start doing bookreviews. 🙂