Original subtitles

I can't take it anymore.

The world is sick.

The world is upside down, and I've wrung my insides out.

But I must go on.

Is there a world for me?

This is my sister, Vera.

And this is me.

She doesn't know I've started reading her diary.

I just wanted to understand her.

I know I wasn't allowed.

But once I had begun,

I couldn't stop.

I thought I deserved to have some of what she had.

To see what she saw...

How can Norway benefit from the climate crisis?

We will enter a technological golden age. Today we ask...

You simply put them on the bench to return them to me.

- It's that simple. - F*ck it.

Was that hard to understand? I need the car keys back.

I'm telling you I don't have them!

- Can't you just trust me? - It can't be anyone else!

- I didn't use the car. - I know you have them.

- Can you move? - Hand the keys over!

I said I don't have them. Don't f*cking touch me like that!

I won't, but can you just hand over the keys?

I'm telling you I don't have them.

I can see them!

Stop it!

I will just take them now.

Calm down!

F*cking hell!

Dad!

Pull yourself together.

- I want the keys now! - F*ck!

- Calm down. - F*ck you!

We didn't know what to do, so Vera and I started running.

And the seagull ran after us.

Please just wait here.

I'm not at home right now.

Mum?

She's not here!

Tell her I came by!

And that she must be there tomorrow.

Okay.

Dear Diary...

February 7th.

Mum, dad, little sister,

so-called friends and the ones I just sleep with:

Nobody knows me.

So I open up.

Cut a gash into my flesh, let them put their fingers in.

Go ahead!

Do you feel me now?

Do you get me now?

Ten fingers become ninety hands ripping my flesh from within.

I have to escape.

I try running, but I am made of mud

and pieces of me are ripped out by a thousand hands.

I shape my remains into monsters that I cover in glitter

so they won't turn to stone in the sun, at school,

or here in this chair, where I'm eating with a mother, a father,

a little sister.

I bring worry to your minds, and yes, I am a minefield.

You explode all around me.

I've yet to see anyone survive me.

I have to escape.

I try to take off,

but a thousand threads rein me in.

I get lost in the web of time.

Only then do I see it:

There are no boundaries.

Do you know how many were killed for being a witch

just here up north?

No.

Nearly 200 during the 17th century.

And only a few thousand lived here at that time.

If the weather was sh*t, the witches were blamed.

Or if someone fell overboard by accident.

Decapitation was considered milder than burning at the stake.

If they had to chop more than once for the head to roll off,

it meant that Satan had a tight grip around the witch's neck.

Like this!

But if they truly were witches,

why didn't they use magic to save themselves?

But do you know what the worst thing is?

If you're a woman and you sweat, have hair

and bleed from your cunt,

you have to hide it really well, because people think it's gross.

- Smell it! - No, I'm okay.

But I don't think letting your hairs grow out looks that good.

From where do you think you have learnt what looks good?

Close your eyes!

- Are they closed? - Yes.

You think hairless cats are pretty cute, right?

No...?

Come on, you like all animals!

Okay, yes.

Ew, that was wet!

Wet and delicious.

Let me feel it!

F*ck it!

Michael Jackson Greatest Hits Volume 1.

It's got Billie Jean and Rock With You, so that's good.

Cher.

I'm in a band too. We've got quite a few songs now,

so we can probably release an album soon.

Maybe you have heard of us. Do you recognise me?

He obviously hasn't heard of you.

She said you should know about us.

I heard what she said.

She's just grumpy because she can't play the electric guitar.

I tried to teach her,

but I think the accordion is more up her street.

The accordion is also cool!

Do you ever listen to music and feel like...

you're melting into a different world?

Like a trance?

Yeah, maybe.

No, there's no "maybe".

If you get what I mean, then you get it.

Then I don't.

If you know, you know.

The last time it happened, I was at a concert.

A girl was dancing in front of me.

It was like she transformed into a creature.

She wore a glitter dress and looked at me.

And I felt...

weirdly sad.

But it was also like I had been in that exact place before.

Were you on something?

No, that's the point, I never use anything.

Okay.

Damn it, it's empty! What a f*cking downer.

Beach Boys, this one's nice. It was inside Cher.

It's so absurd!

It sounds like The Sims music!

It's like Mario.

- I'm too tired to walk! - No, you're not.

Can you carry me, please?

But your legs are longer.

But you're a lot stronger, you know that.

I know.

What's so funny?

I've really been wondering about

whether flies hibernate during winter.

Do you know?

You've been thinking about that a lot?

Yes.

I can't say that I know.

What makes you think about that?

They just always seem to be active and never sleep.

Constantly buzzing at the window.

I have no idea.

It must be so exhausting.

Hey, can't we just sleep?

You bite too hard.

Hey, are you okay?

Sorry.

Hey, what's up?

Come back up here. Are you okay?

There is some broken glass down there.

Hey you...

What are you doing?

Are you alright?

Come on back up.

Go away!

What's going on?

Do you want us to leave?

Yes, I'm hibernating.

- Should we go? - Yes.

- Are you sure? - Yes, you can leave.

What happened?

I don't know.

Should I...

I said you can go! I'm fine.

We just need our clothes.

It's been really nice.

- It was a really cosy time. - Really fun.

March 20th.

I often think I'm dying.

Even more often I forget that I'm alive.

Every day is a new opportunity. But for what?

How should I know how life should be lived?

I upend the building blocks others make use of.

Always as an outsider, always full of wonder.

You say that you do not understand me.

That is our common ground.

I try similar stones,

but haven't found the ground on which to place them.

My land is a cloud of ash;

fine-grained sand floats on the wind.

That's the closest I get to calling something mine.

How to live?

Our food: cultivated in monoculture, depleted soil,

sprayed with chemicals.

Around a hundred species go extinct every day.

Our home: we build a world of concrete and asphalt.

The planks we use were once living trees,

home to billions of species.

They were plowed down, brought as corpses to us.

We're hungry, greedy, filled with fear,

economic growth: our only solution.

For everything.

We get sicker and sicker, run faster and faster.

Mum got sick from the pollution and stress of the city

so we moved north.

We are sheltered up here.

But what then when there will be nowhere to run?

They say I am ill, mentally ill,

driven to madness by anger.

But where else can I direct it?

Everyone I see is more frightened than me.

No courage to see; living blindly,

buying blindly, killing blindly, striving blindly.

Forgive them, for they know not what they do.

So I turn inwards, implode and it starts leaking...

I water the earth with agony

and hope something can blossom from it.

Is it cold?

No?

What's the very best thing about being human?

I don't know.

You can pick three things.

That you are able to live.

But all plants and animals can do that too.

- That you can have pets. - That you can own other beings?

But I enjoy it. And I haven't seen animals -

taking care of other types of animals.

Yeah, that's kind of true.

If you could, would you have a dinosaur as a pet?

I have no idea what dinosaurs are like.

Would it be cuddling me?

Wouldn't that be a bit weird?

Would I keep it on a leash?

I could've kept you on a leash since you're so into ownership.

- I can't be on a leash! - Whatever you say.

Cause you know the dinosaur egg I found on that island?

Didn't I tell you about it?

No?

It must have washed ashore during a storm.

You do know that dinosaurs can live under water?

- No. - They can!

Because ages ago, a huge and heavy asteroid

smashed into the Earth.

Lots of dust and matter were flung into the atmosphere,

generating a thick layer around the globe.

The sun couldn't shine through, causing an ice age,

climate changes and tsunamis for example,

swallowing a lot of plants and animals,

including dinosaurs, down into the water.

Then they adapted down there.

And they're still there.

So the dinosaurs...

live in the sea?

Why haven't I heard about that?

Well, it's not...

It's not like all people know this.

We only know about 2% of all maritime life,

so it might as well be true.

You don't have to be so critical.

- Aren't you cold? - Not really.

- But it is a bit cold? - Picture dinosaurs.

Look around you.

Feel how fantastic and epic the world around you is.

It's summer!

Hi!

It's not forbidden to answer our calls.

Stop it.

Stop what? She likes it, look at her smile!

She doesn't dare to do otherwise.

She can speak for herself.

- Why haven't you been at school? - I'm striking for the climate.

- Eira said you've been at home. - Guess she's on strike there.

Tell me where to strike then!

The corner store? The house of prayer?

Maybe you should go back to Oslo then?

So should you!

She doesn't want to fly.

Maybe you could swim, or cycle?

Honestly though, we just care about you.

I'm the last person you would care about.

We do care about you!

You don't get it.

Are you embarrassed?

What's your problem?

Since when has she been like this?

Wait up!

- I feel sorry for Eira. - Yeah, f*cking hell.

March 4th.

Want to tear off my skin;

push my fingers in under my eyes and peel my way down.

Set my inner organs free, let them flee, swim, drown, climb,

leap trough the clouds, roll in the sand, bleed in ecstasy,

bash themselves against the peaks,

get swallowed by a monster fish with razor teeth,

let the flesh be ripped to shreds, eaten by crabs,

pooped out as free quantum particles

existing here and there at once.

That is true liberation,

a climatic culimination, deserving euphoric ovation.

Maybe we could try that again, but without vocals?

What?

And you could take a break.

- But why? - It's a just a bit much.

What shall I do then?

Just drink some water or something.

Just chill for a bit.

But I don't understand why...

You just want to hear how it sounds?

I'm just getting a bit distracted. I can't really...

Maybe you could come back later?

Yeah, well, I'll just go then.

She has not slept in four days.

And I've dreamed about her almost every night.

We can ride this one as it's got reins on its head.

Hey there!

- What are you doing? - Want to climb over?

- But... - Come on!

But you know that my leg hurts.

- Don't do it! - Let's do it together.

- But the fence is electric. - No, it's not!

Look.

Spit conducts electricity.

So I should have gotten an electric shock, but I didn't. Let's go!

We could just wait a bit.

Come on, for f*ck's sake!

But won't be able to climb over anyway.

On three, let's go.

Come on then, get down from it!

Jesus Christ.

Nope.

- Never walk behind a horse! - Why?

They might kick you in the stomach. It's a reflex.

- Very funny. - Don't walk behind it!

- I'm not. - Yes, you are.

Hey there.

Hello, my little friend.

April 22nd.

Today, a climate activist set himself on fire

in front of The Supreme Court.

Eira and I went to see the horses.

I talked her into skipping school.

They just teach us to be machines,

to fit into the grey circles of routine life.

Perform, produce,

false joy of life, real fear of death.

Where do they hide the soft?

If only they could see the world through my eyes!

See the soil teeming with life,

the light in the young child's eyes.

I promise you...

Surely then they would have to care?

The turmoil eats me alive.

But Eira will cope better.

She's rock. I'm water.

When we were small, I could understand her

before she could talk.

Now that we can, we don't understand each other.

I wish I could tell her the words I needed to hear,

but I don't know them myself.

How can I learn the language of my foremothers

when their words were weeded out of history?

Few go near a language last spoken by

those who were burned alive.

You can do this and pretend you're swimming

to fool the fish.

Sh*t

I hate fish!

Help me!

This is so sketchy.

Can you take it? Take it, take it!

Poor thing, he is really suffering now.

Ah, poor thing!

Look at what you've done! Oh my god.

Can you please stop it? It's disgusting.

Are you getting there?

Can you finish up?

Eira?

Eira, let's go home.

April 25th.

I love everyone, I feel good, I'm one step ahead of myself,

hungry for life, for other people, I run,

I am immortal, I swallow people whole,

devour everything,

until the whole world is inside me and I dissolve.

Then I am also all the crises of the world.

Then I'm the forests on fire, the greedy hands of desire.

I'm the millions who are forced to flee, the victims,

the killers - I'm them and they are me.

We're on the edge of the cliff hoping we'll grow wings.

We can't carry on, can't carry on living by killing.

I can't bear to live in a world that does not help life.

So I get scared of myself,

and tell Eira to hide away anything sharp

in case I sleepwalk, or wakewalk.

I'm not sure what is what, where my thoughts are made.

The images in my head have built bridges to reality.

Where do I end and the world begin?

My skin is etched away. I cling to my own flesh.

The wind blows through my bones

while the sea flows through me. I am an extension of the ocean.

You swim in my tears, but cannot bear my sorrow.

You turn away and ask me to pull myself together.

But I don't want to be like you:

Composed, thick-skinned,

a layer of skin between you and the world.

Every one of you trapped in your own skin.

Skin folds covering your eyes - blind.

Skin folds covering your ears - deaf.

A generational failure.

Look me in the eyes and tell me that you care about my future.

I dream of an ecological revolution.

April 29th.

I dream that we will wake up.

April 17th.

I don't trust anyone.

One minute silence today for the climate activist.

Dad is trying to get me admitted to a mental hospital.

Norwegian media have not mentioned him once.

Icicles can transform bodies into voodoo dolls.

One teaspoon of healthy soil holds 700 billion living organisms.

Here is a collective agreement

on blindness for all the elephants in the room.

In the corner of my eyes I glimpse portals that lead to other places

down into the ocean and up into the sky.

One time she let me come in to her room,

she told me it was like an atlas of her memories.

Someone grabs hold of me and leads me to an old person

sitting by a huge clock.

He tells me that I have fallen out of time.

On the clock he can see the time of everything around us:

Humans, plants, even stones possess their own time.

For some time runs fast, for others it passes slowly.

My time is standing still.

He demonstrates on the clock.

Turns clock hands from one place to another.

They might as well be pointing anywhere.

I have fallen out of my orbit.

Floating in a vacuum.

Around me, humans encapsulated in eggs of glass

run around in their tracks.

Inside the capsules they look safe,

strapped as they are to their lives.

Below me I see my own glass egg

plummet towards the Earth and land on an island.

When I closed the diary, I knew it was for the last time.

The diary changed me.

I see things I never noticed before.

I used to think she was so weird.

I think I understand her now.

But other people don't seem to.

That's why things turned out as they did.

I'm certain summer won't come around this year.