(Dont judge before reading the whole writing).
Do some see me as human being or lower me to a level where they name me as their pet? Cat or dog? As if synchronized even?
Did I became someone's toy? Puppet? While not knowing anything about this? Because truly, I feel robotized.
Being watched 24 hours a day. 7 days a week. "They" even see me nude. And my own family gets so brainwashed and drugged I am afraid that they forget about me as being their own daughter. I see their minds vanishing away. As they put in other memories about me or who I should be. I see no other answer. I know them the best. And my youngest oldest brother is too scared to say a true thing. I can only see it in their eyes and he knows. So he barely looks at me, directly.
I am called the devil by the people who raised me. These people are my parents.
I am being called cat and dog by people who didnt raised me. These people are nothing to me.
When I eat I hear my, our, horror cat someone I dont want to put on a level to name him my ex but I do now, miauwing. I have to live now by force with our cat in my apartment. In order for safety i would during pregnancy sleep seperate. As I would otherwise get attacked and worse out of my sleep sometimes. I brought my cat to the vet because I was feeling sorry for my cat a bit as I was too poor to actually have a cat. That man convinced me that our cat didnt needed vaccins. Or when having a vlooienplaag in the house not any treatment needed. I would give my cat treatment. And so brought my cat to the vet. With almost no money. After breaking up it all became a hell. As if being punished. Still my cat is waiting for his owner to come. After our cat accomplished his job maybe. Do I want to know? I dont like being attacked in my face as it many times happend out of nowhere or when just opening the door of the toilet or so. Or when saying something rude to myself about the owner of our cat. Actually, the truth sounds rude to others when they cant stand it. I know someone truly can love when that person stands the truth and appreciates honesty.
I feel sorry for living creatures to be made as propety of those who dont know much about love. And look for those who learn and search for love as their target. Do they hate beauty? I sometimes question myself. In this case "they" are those who sended me a postcard before mothersday from my son with "from us" on it. Naming no ones name. No daddy to be named.
But "us". So I call them: they. As they are a group. I am afraid. Who do such things to many. And dont love in a natural way. Can I say that?
My son was showing on the photograph to be in a poor state. Malnutrition showing as he looks to be not growing properly when I look at this shoulders. Clothes he still can wear that I bought for him as newborn while he is born in October 27th 2020. 6plus months. And still newborn clothes? When I gave birth they gave me clothes as present for 6 months. I knew enough somewhere. Was I allowed to show care and love as mother? To be a mother myself? A parent? To give attention to our son? To someone else? What are we as humans without care, attention and so love in this way? No one wish to raise his child with hate. That will bring dictators to the world. I always knew.
So plan A didnt worked out that well.
Brainwash me and drug me in a way that I would become their pet.
Plan B is to make me homeless and mommy said I would become a whore in Amsterdam. A slut. Many times these month they almost accomplished to make me homeless. And made me "missing" from the radar while just being at home according to the police.
I have no phone. As I buy it and they hack it in a way that it isnt my phone anymore. They decide who I can reach out to. And take even over the chats with my parents. As they cant speak Dutch properly are close to none. They have access to my house. I live in Megen where I have to live with elderly people facing their last stage of life in a bejaardenhuis/verzorgingshuis. With a beautiful view. No, not the church but the clouds. Beautiful clouds I can daydream on. I see beauty everyday while I should see darkness. I am grateful for this gift that I still am able to see beauty.
Proudly I am African. Somali. I see myself as citizen of the world. As I dont know where I truly belong to. I feel a connection to the world. With Mother Nature. I care about Mother Nature as if almost a mother. And everything that lives I see as having feel too. Even if this isnt scientifically proven yet. What do we know? What do I know? Almost nothing. What is a good thing somewhere. Be curious enough to go after the real thing I would say. And the truth. To find out the meaning and worth of life and beauty. With no weird psychology. No racism. No hate. No underestimating of me, a lady. Now 25 years. Born on the last day of November in 1995. Oss, North-Brabant, The Netherlands.
I should be recylced they say.
Hobbies such as photography, writing and sketching is been taken away from me. Animals dont show such human activity isnt?
I wonder when they are going to teach me how to miauw or woof while I am about to metaphorically make the next Mona Lisa or Vermeers Girl with the pearl. Well, I make pensketches. I paint with ink or pencil. It runs in my blood to paint but I never got lessons. To poor. I make abstracts with paint instead.
Somali people before war used to be free. And open minded. At least more than now.
As being robotized (only when near them) lady and citizen of the world, no dog, no cat, no monster, no ghost, no devil. But as Nadiya Mohado. Hi. To THE WORLD i got to know by watching documentary's. NatGeo and BBC. The list is endless. After reading their magazine I got from my dad in 2009 everything changed for me. I want to become a journalist and write. Discover the world. I get to see a whole different world meanwhile. Maybe that is needed in order to know more about what some hide for others. I feel like writing a whole book in one week to reflect on love and life. And modern slavery. Cause I am caughed as many others in this. And still I question about love and life. Waiting to see if true journalists still work as they should work. Hear both sides of the story. Instead of manipulated work as they are not live there. I watch and learn. And so I learn more about life. And love.
Many attemps I have witnessed. Torturements. I still love. Still believe. Still look for the real thing if we talk about love.
I have felt connections of beautiful souls I met during severe ilness. Doctors. They would save my life in secret behind my back or made deals with these people so I could live longer. We had by accident a thing going on. They were older. It never came to touch. I dont approach men. Gentlemans I wait for. But someone blocks their way and break their hearts and mine a bit. I get to hear what lies they have heard as they force me to still go there while I refuse to. These people find it funny or so to play with feel as they dont feel on our levels. I try to take distance as much as I can in order for safety as they have important jobs. If there were not any feelings involved I would go to court and make money on them. But I cant. Now. So I blame it on love somewhere as I know they still believe in these lies. Maybe its better. I dont want to cause more trouble. They need their focus, and I think its not for me to say how these things go. I am just 25. And patient for love. Mother Nature or I dont know what force made us almost fall in love. Almost.
- I wish to dance in the rain. Wash my sorrows away from yesterday. Make place for better days. And start the day with what I hope one day the love of my life saying goodmorning to me with warmth and touch only true lovers or soulmates are able to feel.
I feel a connection. For a long time now. Through these times I still havent give up on love.
I love now in silence. I am not in love but will wait. Patiently. Love in this could mean anything. Love romantically, and broadly to show care and be good for others.
- So, still patiently enough to wait.
