As I press my forehead lightly against the frost-kissed glass of the train, feeling the sting of subzero temperatures through the veneer of insulation, my spirit can't help but mirror the stark landscapes rushing by, desolate and stripped of warmth. In the dawning light, even the beauty of the Norwegian countryside seems shadowed, its once vivid hues dimmed to the pallor of a grim winter morning.

My trains of thought deceptively align with those of the locomotive, chugging relentlessly despite the harsh climes, so consumed in the monotony of it all that every halt feels more like an intrusion than a brief respite. Isn't that the quintessence of living with a chronic illness, the unwelcome interruptions it brings?

Sometimes it feels as if every breath taken, every word spoken, each keystroke pressed tingles with an undercurrent of pain, dulled only by the routine monotony—a ceaseless cycle of pricking needles and swallowing pills. A mechanized life lived on ventilator rhythm, the pulsating hum of machines often replacing the throbbing of life.

And yet, life persists.

My eyes flit open to the glowing screen in front of me, one of the numerous news articles strewn across a dozen tabs, this one striking a chord of vague irritation. A hush-money case, jury members selected, trial date set—a stark reminder of the farcical transparency and the ongoing charade of justice. Life may be a ceaseless struggle against my chronic illness, but such news triggers a piercing pang that no medicine can remedy. The resounding echoes of power abuse sound all too familiar, threatening to drown my spirits in a relentless tide of pessimism.

At times like these, I find solace in my unassuming blog, a sanctuary within the pandemonium I invariably find myself. It's not merely escapism, for the words I laboriously etch in this space bear the scars of my existence - the searing pain, the gloomy despair and the frail resilience that underlies it all.

For those unseen, suffering silently beside me, please remember, your spirit may falter, but it will never be defeated. In contrast, it is in the embrace of the crestfallen, that we discover the tenacity of our resilience.

Living with a chronic illness is a silent war, waged daily within the confines of our frail bodies. It may seem to stem out of nowhere, much like the cold winter transplanting lush, vibrant greens with barren white expanses. But just like these landscapes, with stubborn resilience etched into their very core, we continue to inhabit our realities, undeterred by the hailstorm of apprehensions. It's a silent pledge to life, a promise echoing louder within our hearts with every single breath we take, every single word we manage to pen.

So, here I am, scribbling down these lines, trying to make sense of a world overpowered by a heavy shroud of cynicism and continuing to find ways to live, persist, and perhaps someday, even thrive.

Tags: chronic illness personal experiences resilience

Brisk wind lashes against the train window while I cocoon myself further in my scarf. I spy the towering frost-laden trees, an army standing stalwart against the biting cold of -0°C. The world outside seems frozen, wrapped in a blanket of silence and ice. Yet, even as my fingers hover frozenly over the slightly warmed keys of my laptop, my heart is filled with an excitement that won't perish. For today, I've got a delightfully thrilling topic to share with all of you. DIY home decor ideas. Something about the very thought of crafting your dwelling into a piece of art, etched with the strokes of your creativity tickles me pink.

How invigorating is the notion of re-imagining your space, allowing your thoughts to crystallize into tangible creations of beauty? The simple act of molding clay into a unique pottery piece for your coffee table, or those faded jeans in your closet transformed into a splendid collage on your living room wall - each project brimming with bits and pieces of your personality! Our homes, after all, are tangible narratives of our lives, whispering the tale of who we are and what we cherish.

As I share these thoughts, I am inadvertently drawn to the current news article that I just read. While the conflict in the Middle East fills my mind with a cloud of trepidation, it also makes me realise the essentiality of peace in our lives. Our home is not just a physical entity, it is an embodiment of peace and sanctuary.

Could we, in our little ways, in revamping and beautifying our homes, also foster an atmosphere of peace and warmth within? A heart full of love reflects in the space it dwells in. As we infuse colours, textures, and our personal style to our abode, we also imbue it with the essence of our tranquility, shared compassion and collective love for humanity, subtly or otherwise.

DIY decor gives far more than an aesthetic appeal. It gives us a common ground to collaborate and communicate, fostering a sense of unity, an aspect that seems notably elusive in the world beyond our windows. Be it a handwoven rug stitched together as a family project or an individual tussle with repurposing an old ladder into a bookshelf, the sense of commonality inherent in these projects is symbolically profound.

As I tap away enthusiastically on my laptop, the Eurostar whooshing through the spellbound Norwegian vista, I am filled with an inexplicable thrill. The thrill of possibilities,a new DIY project, a brighter, warmer, more suitably 'me' home, and above all - a world where we find peace, both within and around us.

Every DIY project you embark on, remember, is a precursor for a world more synced with peace and harmony. As we thread love and positivity into our home decor, we also adorn the fabric of our lives with them. The world seemingly might be on the brink of disaster, but we, the humble dwellers, can inject it with much needed warmth, love and peace. So let's do this. Let's craft. Let's create. Let's harmonize, right from the comfort of our personal abodes.

A readjustment of my scarf and another fervent look at the enchanting frosted landscape outside, and the spark of excitement rekindles. With that thrilling thought, let's bring on the winter, the challenges and let's imbue our homes, our lives, with our unique, colourful, peaceful DIY aspirations.

Tags: DIY home decor creativity peace and harmony

As I sit here on my morning train commute, the world outside is swathed in a frigid white blanket, the mercury barely tickling 2°C. My breath fogs up the window as I settle in, creating a tiny cloud against the frost-coated glass. My fingers dance across my laptop's keyboard, as eager as the rest of me to let my thoughts, each birthed from my experiences, unravel.

Today I feel contemplative – buoyed by possibilities, anchored by uncertainties. The topic at hand seems abstractedly apropos - interviewing for internships. The very mention of it calls to mind countless evenings spent poring over cover letters and application forms, the uneasy stirs of anticipation and dread intertwining like an intricate dance.

The task of securing an internship is a rite of passage for many university students. As a journalism student, it’s more than just about getting a foot in the door – it’s about gaining the experience of chasing stories and truths, and laying the foundation for our future roles as custodians of the narrative.

Likewise, political leaders face a similar challenge – not in receiving internships, but in securing the people’s mandate. Their candidacy is much like a prolonged, high-stakes job interview, played out over months, even years. Recently, I read about the complex political triangle linking the United States, Iran, and Israel. The implicit strategical equations and the potential repercussions of recent skirmishes on an upcoming election are all intertwined in a labyrinthine intrigue.

It's quite intriguing, how securing an internship mirrors the political climate. Both involve high stakes. Both necessitate persuasion, competence, determination. There's the same jangling edge of uncertainty, the same exhilarating thrill of possibly being chosen. Of course, the magnitude of the consequences is vastly different, but somehow, this doesn't negate the parallels.

Interviewing for an internship is as much about understanding yourself as it is about comprehending the psyche of the organisation. Similar to political leaders analysis of their electorate's requirements. It's a game of insights, understanding, and empathy, punctuated by bursts of brute persistence.

As my train gently rocks along, the city of Oslo looming ever closer, I marvel at the interconnectivity of all things. What we, as students, endure and learn in our quest for experience, isn’t disassociated from the larger events unfolding on the global stage.

I turn to gaze out of the window, the world outside still frost-ridden, and yet teeming with life - a stark reminder of both the cold reality we exist within, and the fiery human spirit that propels us further. Just like the interviewee - navigating the formidable, yet still, hopeful battleground of experience and opportunity. We interview. We learn. We aspire. We progress.

Today, as yet another winter’s day unfolds, I am gripped by a sense of purpose emanating from my reflections. As I step onto the familiar platform, the world outside feels less intimidating, the weight of my potential less onerous. After all, to begin is to be halfway there. And, while the morning remains frigid, there’s a warmth spreading within me – a slow, burning resolve undeterred by the cold.

Tags: internship politics personal reflection

The gentle rhythmic sway of the train, like a lullaby, comforts me in the plush seat, as the morning's chilling 7°C temperature outside paints the carriage windows with dainty crystalline patterns. It may sound strange, but there's something alluring about winter. Its morbidity, its austerity, it screams transience, yet its captivating beauty is undeniable. I think that's how I am feeling today: a delicate blend between icy-cold solitude and the feathery touch of life.

Speaking of life, I read something earlier that sparked a trail of thoughts. It was the essence of a debate that happened in the Norwegian Parliament. No need to get into the details, but it highlighted the delicacy of trust — so easily shattered like a thin layer of ice. Trust, a nondescript emotion, so powerful yet brittle. It requires time to build, but can be destroyed within a mere fraction of a second. And isn't it the same with our personal achievements?

Every day, we triumph. Little, big, monumental — every victory counts, every achievement is worth a celebration. These accomplishments, like trust, are not built in a day. They come with consistent efforts, perseverance, stumbling blocks, wiped tears, and unfaltering determination. And like trust, they are delicate, yet strong enough to build the castle of our life. And so we should celebrate them, savour them, and honour them, as they march us forward in the arduous journey called life.

One such achievement I distinctly remember, was when I learnt the importance of a simple device – a powerbank. I know it sounds trivial and mundane, but when you're on a train in the middle of nowhere with a dead phone, the importance of a powerbank strikes you like a revelation.

From managing to keep my phone charged on long journeys to ensuring I have enough juice to write these blogs - such a small accessory has become a beacon of reliability. It's commendable how such a tiny gadget can immensely streamline your day, making your routine hiccup-free. So much power, so much potential, encapsulated in a palm-sized device, is surely a validation of human ingenuity, an achievement that, paradoxically, we often forget to celebrate. And so today, I acknowledge this understated piece of technology that has become an essential part of my story.

Celebrating personal achievements does not necessarily mean grand parties or public validation. Sometimes, it’s about self-reflection, sometimes it’s about acknowledging your resilience in overcoming a hurdle, and other times, it’s about deriving immense satisfaction from a seemingly simplistic milestone.

Pardon the moroseness of this discourse, but euphoria and ecstasy aren’t the sole companions of achievements. Even within the brooding shadows and chilling silences, triumphs should be celebrated, for they are the guiding stars in our journey, durable as a powerbank, yet delicate as trust. And in this glorifying dance between triumph and trust lies the beauty of life. The life that, despite its stark winter-esque bareness, burgeons forth with a sumptuous symphony of celebrations.

Tags: self-reflection personal achievements life philosophy

Good Morning from a rolling train car, bathed in the soft hues of dawn, somewhere between home and Oslo. Outside, a cool 6°C morning unfolds, its serenity unbroken. I'm blessed to find my mind clear and my spirit satisfied, just the perfect mood to pen down today's blog post. As I leaf through the morning's news, a particular article grabs my attention - a wind turbine incident, in a place close to my heart, Nord-Odal. While it didn't cause any injuries, it sure sparked an undercurrent of thoughts about the structures we build around us, their resilience, and their fault lines.

However, these thoughts will be explored another time, for today I turn my attention toward the must-haves of a college student's life---the essential stationery items. As my fellow students are aware, the allure of fresh stationery is irresistible. Perhaps it's the promise of a clean slate, a new beginning, or perhaps it's just the simple pleasure of owning well-made tools that help you create, learn, and brainstorm.

At the heart of every student's stationery kit lies the notebook. Whether you prefer the no-frills budget variant, an artistically ambitious one, or a classy leather-bound diary, find one that suits your style, and makes you fall in love with note-taking. Keeping your thoughts organized or brainstorming essay ideas becomes so much more enticing when put to paper.

A close second in the hierarchy comes pens. The humble pen, often underrated, can be the silent force driving your successful academic journey. Invest in some good quality ones that won't smudge, leak, or run dry when you least expect them to. Having a few different colors on hand can aid in color-coding your notes, making it easier to recall information.

Thirdly, highlighters. As a student, nothing screams essential louder than a set of highlighters. From color-coding study materials to systematically highlighting key points, these luminescent pens play a crucial role in any study session.

Lastly, don’t overlook the importance of a sturdy folder or binder. We all face a rush of handouts, essays and assignments through university life. A solid organizational system to keep these under control can save a lot of headaches in the long run. Believe me, leafing through piles of disorganized papers while preparing for an exam is a scenario you want to avoid.

Pausing momentarily, I lift my gaze from my laptop screen and glance out of the train window - the world is a blur of frost-covered fields, interspersed with rock and water. It’s calming, this predictable rhythm of movement and progress. Curiously, the satisfaction of equipping oneself with the right tools, such as stationary, shares the same sentiment. It reinforces the notion that, in this constantly shifting academic landscape, some things remain reassuringly constant.

As my train ride jostles me back into reality, I close my notes on this note: While stationery seems rather trivial when we think about the grand spectrum of university life, it is these small details that most often make the journey smoother. Capping my warm mug of tea, I sign off for now, looking forward to another day of academia, another day of stories, another day of living.

Tags: college essentials stationery study tips college life Stationery Essentials Study Habits

As I hop onto the warm, inviting train conveyance from the nippy 8°C outside, my heart beats in tandem with the rhythm of my favourite workout routine - running. Ah, the pure bliss of movement! Here I am, brimming with an insurmountable level of excitement just thinking about it.

Running isn't merely a form of physical exercise; it's an invigorating escape from the world's hustle-bustle, a haven where my mind dabbles in creative juices. When the wind plays with your hair, the ground becomes your drumroll, and each heavy breath unveils a different story - it's another universe altogether. From pounding on the trails amidst the lush forest, chasing the sunrise by the dazzling coastline, to striding along the familiar city streets under the twinkling night sky – the landscapes are as inspiring and exhilarating as they are diverse.

But, my workout routine isn't confined merely to running. Strength training uptake has been one of my most rewarding decisions. It's about proving to myself that I'm stronger than what I give myself credit for. Lifting weights, doing squats or push-ups, not only fuels me with power, but also seamlessly instills this feeling of invincibility, warming up my insides as fiercely as a mug of hot cocoa on a frosty day.

Switching gears, my eyes flutter across the newspaper I hold in my hands. News about the uncertainty associated with the future of the Drevjamoen military camp in Norway's Defense Long-Term Plan gives me food for thought. How often do we find ourselves in similar situations, unsure of what's next or what direction to take? Right from choosing an academic degree or deciding a career path, to even selecting our preferred workout routine, uncertainties are a part of our lives.

The key is in embracing them, making the best of what we have while continuing to strive for what we love – be it serving our nation, nurturing our careers, or simply challenging our physical boundaries. It's the essence of this very spirit - the spirit of accepting the unknown - that sets us free, that makes us soar, both in life and in the midst of our dedicated workout sessions.

Well, my station is nearing, and the university beckons. But the neon colored running shoes tucked away in my bag are a constant reminder of my commitment to fitness and the incredible journey that lies ahead each day. As I step off the train, ready to start another day at the university, my reflections follow me - sharpening my mind, fueling my passion and sparking my creativity. Life is in motion!

Tags: strength training life reflections fitness running personal growth

As I'm sitting in this comfortably warm train gliding through the chilly landscape of 6°C, my eyes are captivated by the frosty scenes playing out just beyond the glass window. Sometimes, I think there's magic in the way nature adorns itself.

Often on this daily journey, I marvel at the wonderment of traveling. It lends opportunities to view the world from a myriad of perspectives, revealing its ever-changing canvas. Breathtaking landscapes, the distinct rhythm of different locales - indeed, every commute can be transformed into a new chapter in one's travel diary.

Sundays are specifically dedicated to catching up on the news. Today's topic piqued my interest more than anything else. It was a briefing from the far-off Middle Eastern landscape - a compelling report about a potent decision by Israel's Prime Minister, Benjamin Netanyahu, to initiate a military operation in Rafah. Fascinating and a bit unnerving how this single decision could ripple across the political landscape of both Israel and Palestine, adding layers to the already complex situation.

Such global events always drive home to me the stark contrast of my peaceful mornings riding Norwegian rails compared to turbulent situations many face in parts where "peaceful" might not be the narrative. But in my optimism, I always nurture the hope - that the world will eventually navigate its way to harmony, overcoming the tumult that it often finds itself entangled in.

Moving onto another note, I owe my digital mobility to a marvel of a device- the powerbank. Can we all just take a moment to appreciate how these wonderful contraptions have reshaped our relationship with technology? No longer do we cringe at the threatening warning of a dying battery. Why, I'm mid-journey, away from any possible charging ports, and thanks to my faithful powerbank, I can continue weaving my words into this blog post. Its convenience is unparalleled, providing an uninterrupted power supply that aids my nomadic online interaction. The autonomy that comes with it, oh, I couldn't be more grateful.

Life, much like a train ride, is full of transitions. We keep moving, meeting new horizons, learning, growing, and carrying our power sources with us - literal powerbanks and metaphorical reserves of resilience. Be it thoughts on global politics or extending the life of my laptop, locomotion certainly frames my mornings with an interesting palette of contemplation.

A part of me always wishes to share the picturesque scenes dancing outside my train window, like a moving painting unfolding in real-time. But for now, these words will have to suffice, encapsulating the beauty of traveling as best as I can. Until next time, when the train whistles again and another page of my travel diary is ready to be inscribed.

Tags: Travel global politics technology

As I watch the frost-encrusted landscape whisk past my train window this morning, the bone-chilling temperature of -1 °C feels as harsh and unrelenting as the emotional frostbite I've been grappling with lately. My fingers are numbed by the cold, making it difficult to type, but the contrastingly warm heat in the carriage is unbearable, mingling claustrophobically with the poignant undercurrents of melancholy that feel almost palpable in my words.

I've often opined that dating is a battlefield of sorts, fraught with high peaks of ecstasy and cataclysmic falls into despair, in, more or less, equal measure. But now, I find myself in this frozen apocalypse of loneliness and rejection, staring down the ghosts of romances past and hoping, vainly, for a glimmer of hope on the horizon.

Mornings on my commute have become a portal into a news world fiery with conflict and war. Today, that patch on the globe ignited with conflict is Ukraine. As I read this morning about NATO countries pledging more air defense to the beleaguered nation, the stark reality of humanities' propensity for combat and domination seems as cold and unforgiving as the frosty kiss of winter outside.

In comparison, my romantic foibles may seem insignificant but they pulse with their own brand of pain, no less grating against my spirit than the biting wind against my cheeks. Like international politics, affairs of the heart are complicated, burdened with power dynamics, unspoken expectations, and a distressing lack of honesty.

I've often wondered if global leaders feel the same sort of soul-crushing disappointment as I do when their pleas for assistance are met with strategic aid, rather than the genuine empathy they hoped for. Ukrainian president's recent plea for a no-fly zone over Ukraine has largely been met with tactful sidestepping by NATO allies, a raw reminder that international relations continue to be driven by cold pragmatism rather than ideals of hope, trust, and cooperation.

Like Ukraine, I find myself longing for a no-fly zone of my own, a safe space where I could negotiate my romantic entanglements without the fear of emotional bombardment. But, life as an adult, I've come to understand, is more about handling falling bombs than preventing them.

One would imagine that persistent need for self-defense would eventually erode our spirit. Yet, as I observe the indomitable Ukrainians and read about their courage, I realize that perhaps, resilience is where the beauty lies. Perhaps it's not about escaping the conflicts, but about surviving them, bearing witness to them, emerging stronger from them.

As my train draws closer to the fog-shrouded Oslo, I find myself drawing a parallel between my own love life and the complex web of international politics: messy, complicated, peppered with disappointments, yet blinding in its resilience. Both spheres, I’ve come to realize, are marred by a profound struggle between helplessness and hope, and at this particular juncture in life, I seem to be oscillating precariously between the two. Where I'll land, only time can tell.

As I close my laptop, with the somber Oslo skyline tinted with the pallor of the dawn, looming into view, I am left with a profound sense of melancholic clarity. My utopia of love and romance might just be as elusive as a world without conflict, yet the journey, the ceaseless attempts at survival, persist in a perpetual cycle of shattered illusions and rekindled hope. And that, perhaps, is the heart-wrenching beauty of it all.

Tags: personal reflection love and relationships international politics

Snowflakes gently coat the outside world in soft white, making everything look pristine, almost like a fresh chapter about to begin. Meter by meter, the train steadily inches closer towards Oslo, cutting through the winter wonderland that temporarily cloaks our everyday realities. Despite the coldness of the -1°C temperature outside, a warm optimism bubbles within me as I settle into my journey. Every day on this commute has proved an opportunity to express my thoughts and observations, and today is no different. This morning, I delve into a process we all face at some stage in our lives – applying for college!

It’s a daunting process, isn’t it? Yet, it is also a phase that promises new beginnings. The college application process is akin to stepping onto a new train just like the one I'm commuting on, leading us to a new chapter in life. Even as the frost gently graces the outside world, symbolizing the end of a cycle, spring waits in anticipation, heralding new opportunities.

The application process might seem like a monumental task with each aspect – from choosing a college, deciding a course, filling in the forms, to crossing our fingers as we await the admission decision. But let me assure you, though it can feel overwhelming, it is also an exciting period filled with endless possibilities!

Pondering on this, a recent news article comes to mind. No, it was a heartbreaking tale, yes, but one that made me appreciate the privilege and opportunity we have to gain an education. It offered a different perspective. While we may fret over application forms and essays, worry about missing deadlines, or stress over the potential outcomes, we should embrace this process for what it truly signifies: hope and potential.

Just as each snowflake is unique and beautiful combining to form a beautiful winter landscape, each of us brings something individual and important to the table. This college application process is just a way of telling your story, of setting you apart, of starting your journey to self-discovery and growth.

What a joy it is to have the opportunity for an education, to be able to aspire and manifest success, isn't it? So, let’s embrace this application process, let's conquer it together! Let’s turn any fears into optimism. Because just as sure as spring follows winter, the anticipation of new beginnings and brighter tomorrows always follows the trials of today.

So, my fellow aspiring students, prepare your personal essays, ready your recommendation references, polish those portfolios, and send them on with a hopeful heart. Because this journey is not just about getting into the best college, it’s about understanding who you are and where you want to be. So, even if the journey seems long and daunting, remember, the spring of hope always follows the winter of hardship.

Looking out of the train window, I see the whitened tree boughs, heavy with snow, standing tall and strong against the harshest weather. And just like them, we draw strength from the most challenging times. With hearts full of hope, let's navigate this college application journey. And remember, like the resilient Norwegian spruce, let's stand tall against any challenge that comes our way.

In this world of endless possibility and hope, let's dare to dream!

Tags: college application personal growth optimism

As I sit here constrained within the iron belly of my daily commute, my breath fogs up the glass, creating a hazy mirror against the stark backdrop of winter morning. Outside, everything is still. The trees are bare, standing tall and solitary like sentinels under a withering sky. It's 4 degrees Celsius. It might as well be -40. The cold penetrates deeper than the layers. It reaches into your bones, and perhaps even touches the soul.

Just moments ago, I read the grating news of a high-ranking Iranian military leader, Qassem Soleimani, being killed. The strike prompted by a mandate from the U.S and confirmed by Pentagon was set in motion as a response to an Iranian orchestrated attack on the US embassy in Baghdad. The weighty knowledge of it tugs at the corners of my brain, painting yet another grayscale hued thread into the tapestry of our gloomy world.

Today, the melancholy I feel translates to my blog as I dive into fashion trends, or the lack thereof, that seem to be reflecting our collective aura these days. Our clothing, undoubtedly, is a manifestation of our moods, our identities, our defiance, and our concessions. As I look around the train, hunched bodies cloaked in hues of cold grays, blues, and blacks seep into my consciousness. Surely, we are what we wear.

The omnipresent oversized silhouette, cloaking the body like an armor, seems to be a popular retreat these days. It protects us from the penetrating chill while perhaps metaphorically veiling our vulnerability. Bind us in textiles, shield us in wool and monotone; the world is too much with us.

Likewise, the regeneration of vintage items speaks to our collective hankering for the past - simpler times when the world did not rattle our existence. The '60s, '70s, '80s; we pirouette in the epochs long gone, swaying in mom jeans, retro prints, and chunky sneakers. Our outfits echo the decades past and we hide within the folds of time.

Then there are those who rise against the gloom, a bright neon fabric encasing their determination to fight the gray, igniting tiny sparks of warmth within the frosty insensibility. It's a marked rebellion, a shout of resilience in the draped landscape. The sartorially brave, their defiant palette only strengthening my belief in fashion as a medium of self-expression.

Today's fashion, then, is a mirror of our society- a grim, tired reflection that wavers between hope and disheartening realities. Despite all, we trudge forward, our fashion choices serving as our artful armor. But as I pack my thoughts and faces the gray morning, I can't help but wonder, will there be a spring in our wardrobe when things around remain forever frozen?

Tags: fashion trends societal reflections self-expression