It's my "ship's log" of life- addiction, familial destruction, the society in which existing, and the nasty things they have done to us in secret. I am the pebble.
Escaping The Despondent Sea is available on Amazon Kindle Unlimited, and is receiving 5 star reviews on Goodreads.com
I wrote this letter in a desperate plea to preserve my home and family back when I made "Life Is Passing By" on youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3so46rnOQu4 Siena is 13. Her mother will not "parent"- and her big idea is to just let her grow as she picks and chooses- and to place me in my own place so the Jen can have me as she picks and chooses. Gardens don't plant themselves. Nor does laundry or cooking and cleaning. I was a happy person giving to this family. I was not happy sacrificing my work and identity but I made those sacrifices in order to benefit this child. I only regret not maintaining my dreams as well.
Dear Siena, With Life comes responsibility. You will never be happy in life if you don’t know how to take care of your things. Victoria’s house is not the norm but you seem to have accepted the living standards of people whom we are not. You deserve to have a nice environment. You deserve better than what you are doing to yourself. That is why I said our house is no different than trailer park trash and I refuse to live that way. I said you were all trailer trash because that is where we are headed with our spending issues and I will not stand for it any longer. If you want me in your life- or anyone else that may benefit you in the least, then you need to conform to a standard of acceptable living. The lifestyle we have been living is making me want to drink and I do not want to drink at all. I WANT TO BE A HUSBAND and A FATHER MORE THAN ANYTHING IN LIFE. I am not your stepfather if mom and I are not married. She led me on that we had a family but refuses us to marry.
All I ever wanted was to belong to someone. All I ever wanted was to be important to my people. I dream of the times we can spend together. I dream of us going fishing, and you, catching a nicer fish than I do. I dream of you coming out to the barn, and hanging out with me, while I work on some impossible task. I fantasize religiously about the time we could spend together doing whatever we wanted to do. I dream of us picking berries together and making jelly and other things in the kitchen together. Things like Elephant ears and muffins and cookies.
I am sorry for hurting your feelings when I said you were trailer park trash but you have to believe how fed up and disgusted I am at where our family is going. I am scared to death for where I see us all going individually but you remain wholly clueless to my feelings and that hurts so badly. You have to understand what I am trying to do for you with my views on parenting. I think I did pretty darn good and you cannot deny me that. I showed you all the world I could and you grabbed it out of the air for your own- just as I hoped you would. I mean, you got to see a grasshopper poop! Do you know how lucky you are to have witnessed that?
Yesterday I deleted video footage of slaughtering Doodle. I recorded it to show you But mom said maybe that wasn’t a good idea- so I didn’t ever show you the video. You won’t have the things you need to make yourself happy or attain anything in life. You have so many ideas about what you want to do but you bury yourself in the digital chaos and suffer from sleep deprivation and malnutrition. This is very serious. Look it up and you will be blown away about it. You need to know how to care for yourself. You deserve better than to sit among trash and disaster. You must learn to love yourself. Just because your mother and biological father are divorced has nothing to do with whether you are good enough. You were important and good enough for me to spend my every day of the past seven years exposing you to music, art, writing, nature, and everything else I shared with you. I made sure I taught you whatever I could. It breaks my heart completely that you choose to hide in your room on the computer. You are on your way to a very bad place in life. You must have a certain amount of structure and rules and expectations in order to be a well-balanced individual in the world. It’s a dangerous place and difficult to manage without the proper training and tools. THAT IS WHAT I HAVE BEEN TRYING TO GIVE YOU SIENA. Just like you would expect me to try to put out the fire if our home was burning down.
You must recognize that we have had a lot of suffering. You must acknowledge that I have a direct connection with the spirit world. There is something else after life here as humans. You must believe me when I tell you that those that have died can hear and communicate. I know this as a fact. The promise of everlasting life through the professions of Jesus Christ is real and true. Honesty should allow you to see the reality in this:
We lost our flock because we couldn’t close the gate to the pen. We lost Pheonix because mom wouldn’t listen when Paul warned not to take the bird out with the dachshunds there. I still shed tears for the loss of Pheonix and all of the time I had with him training him and conditioning him. We had to get rid of Boston because we could not be responsible for his safety and well-being. We lost our truck when your mom tried to appease your demands for silence when she shifted to reverse and blew the engine. I gave away Ursa after I couldn’t handle the destruction and personal losses since no one would pay attention to her for the sake of their computer use. We lost Cherokee because we couldn’t be responsible enough to keep her safe and on the line- knowing she runs off to hunt animals. I was overloaded a long time ago but I kept welcoming all the responsibility I could. I suffered a great deal of personal loss due to lack of family unification, support, attention, and involvement. Our home is destroyed because nobody wants to be responsible for the pets.
We can’t buy a house because we cannot control our spending. The only thing we save money for is the casino, dining out, and vacation. I do not go fishing. I do not go on my daily walk through the forest. I do not go out at night or any other time. I don’t play out or sing karaoke. I do not promote the library or band’s music anymore because mom doesn’t want me to. I do not write. I do not eat. I worry about your welfare, your schooling and your future. I worry about mom’s job, her health, her mom, her family and the money we have not paid back to our relatives. I do not write like I am supposed to and we are not doing anything with publishing my books. That’s the real gamble to bet on but your mom wont place a bet on a sure thing. She likes to lose. But she’ll send you to author quest, which happens to be because of my influence. She will bet on you and I suppose I should be grateful for that but I am scared of where we are headed- where we actually are.
I am very proud of you, that you donated your hair to locks of love. I am very proud that you got to play with the band after all of your hard work learning how to play the flute. I am extremely proud that you won the gold prize for the Eddie essay contest. It was me that called your grandma to tell her and have her at the awards ceremony. I was elated when you were in the play. I am very proud of you shooting the bow and arrow, and doing “country stuff”. You have been the main concern in my every day. I worry that you do not wash your face a couple times a day. I worry that you don’t brush your teeth a couple times a day. I worry that you can’t take care of your possessions enough to suit yourself. I worry that your future is tainted with addictive behavior. It’s killing me to watch our home fall apart. Mom cannot control her spending or saving. We are doomed without the proper assertiveness in our business of maintaining a family. You can’t just throw everything away when you clean up. You must deal with things as needed. I am embarrassed to have anyone over to our house because of the way everything is.
Dog feces and urine everywhere- that is unacceptable. The toilet is always filthy. The tub is always a wreck. Laundry is always in a heap behind the door and the towel is wet, wadded up and well on the way to molding which happens to be a respiratory problem that can kill you! Mom threw a tantrum and shattered the shower door- it’s still broke and wrapped with plastic sheeting.
Mom has tuned out and refuses to tend to anything. She never answers the phone or deals with any of the things that need to be dealt with. I am losing my mind and shriveling away to nothing. If you really want to understand what has happened to us then you need to see a film- you need to watch a youtube video titled “The Spine”. It’s a short animate film that is life changing. IT WAS ON ANIMATE Channel 573 ShortsHD. That will explain a lot to you. Promise me you will watch that film. 70% of our household battle/problem is money management. 30% of our problems involve PARENTING. I cannot handle these things alone. Mom and I are not married so I am nothing to you legally. I volunteered to be your father and it made me so happy to have you as my own child. But now, because of all of our own selfish devices, we all pay the price. And mom is too proud to see any wrong in anything she does. I withstood all that I could and then some. I had given my whole life to you all- as imperfect as I know I AM THOUGH I ALWAYS TRIED TO BE SOMETHING BETTER. I want our family to be whole again. I want to be wishing all of our family members could feel the love that we shared, for them selves. It’s easier to do than you may think. I miss you and I love you more than you will ever know. And I will always love you and your mother to death. And Now I have Nothing At All Because I gave All Of Myself To You.
A young boy I recently met sent me messenger chat, sharing something that I had not the time to look at. After talking to his mom, I learned that he had only shared this with me, I was then obligated to go and read what he had written.
For fear of violating his confidence, I was not going to share it. I will tell you that this boy has been damaged by "adults," and he is hurting badly. There is a huge story to be added to my book, "Escaping The Despondent Sea," that is directly relative.
His Name is, Colin, and he has no Father in his life... that has ever done him right, or that is there now.
My pain for these children is too great to bear, on top of the weight of my own.
I hope you find value in it.
I will share my response to this boy, who obviously thinks very highly of me, and I am Truly Honored he asked, "hey, I was wondering about writing sum music" shared two pages of text, which are at the bottom. I replied-
"I just read your piece Colin- Very good! By All Means- WRITE. It's the first thing you need to do in order to heal yourself from the pains you should not have had to deal with, at this point I your life. It is also how you become your individual self- developing your mind, and your own thoughts based on your exposures. Everyone is a science project- a Petri-dish, having different cultures within it. There is NOT ONE educated person who will tell you otherwise. Writing is the most important thing a person can do to understand themselves and those around them. It is The Best Way to organize and build on thoughts that will change your life for the better. Not to mention for the community that you are a part of. Every Great Man/Person In History, Wrote- and Writes. Now all you need to do is work on your skills- comma placement so, that it can be read and understood properly, by the reader. Go Back, and rewrite it. Rewrite it fifteen times, if that's what it takes. Do not stop writing it until it's perfect- perfect to YOU. And, You Pursue Everything You Find An Interest in. Save those things like inventions that are someday going to be for sale in your store. You Are Your Own Brand, Colin. GREAT JOB- especially the references to main stream, so-called, "Artists"
He then replied with, "I was wondering if I could sign with you, also, when I finish my music?"
me, "You Bet, Colin!"
After more conversation, Colin gave me permission to include it in my efforts. Here it is- unpolished and raw-
Verse 1: "Bruh cant sleep, counting black sheep, trying to close my eyes too, instead- i'm vocalizing my word in to this sentence. yes, it's a rap bout time you know that,
what u don't understand- i'm no country boy- city boy all my life so, please don't beg me to watch CMT, if wanna know me, lets watch MTV now lets get to the main picture, i hate mumble rappers designer, design sum better lyrics. i'm sorry you had gotten shot, but you sound like an auto tuned robot, and chief keef- you think your rhymes are l...egit, you mumbling git, so go ahead try a little harder u might get the music award next to year of never better, but boy ur life is about to be my new toy, im hittin this song like a fallout across the nation, they will know my name, i will rise to fame before lets not forget little wayne! u sound like and 89 year old on a breathing tube smoking crack cocain, im not in this to dis but somebody had to end that sh... so let me end this rap this new MC is on the attack_logical "
" should i pursue rap career?"
"I was wondering if i could sign with you
Also when i finish my song"
Me- "You Bet, Colin!" "Sweet," he replied.
Then I offered him some direction, "
"...look into some famous writers of the distant past. Become educated, regarding who, Diane Francis is. Learn from her- the news she shares, as well as her writing style. Take notes about punctuation- she's big big big."
Thanks Guys and Gals! And, tell me when these blogs are messed up.
A young boy I recently met sent me messenger chat, sharing something that I had not the time to look at. After talking to his mom, I learned that he had only shared this with me, I was then obligated to go and read what he had written.
For fear of violating his confidence, I was not going to share it. I will tell you that this boy has been damaged by "adults," and he is hurting badly. There is a huge story to be added to my book, "Escaping The Despondent Sea," that is directly relative.
His Name is, Colin, and he has no Father in his life... that has ever done him right, or that is there now.
My pain for these children is too great to bear, on top of the weight of my own.
I hope you find value in it.
I will share my response to this boy, who obviously thinks very highly of me, and I am Truly Honored
he asked, "hey, I was wondering about writing sum music"
shared two pages of text, which are at the bottom.
I replied-
"I just read your piece Colin- Very good! By All Means- WRITE. It's the first thing you need to do in order to heal yourself from the pains you should not have had to deal with, at this point I your life. There is NOT ONE educated person who will tell you otherwise. Writing is the most important thing a person can do to understand themselves and those around them. It is The Best Way to organize and build on thoughts that will change your life for the better. Not to mention for the community that you are a part of. Every Great Man/Person In History, Wrote- and Writes. Now all you need to do is work on your skills- comma placement so that it can be read and understood properly by the reader. Go Back, and rewrite it. Rewrite it fifteen times, if that's what it takes. Do not stop writing it until it's perfect- perfect to YOU. And, You Pursue Everything You Find An Interest in. Save those things like inventions that are someday going to be for sale in your store. You Are Your Own Brand, Colin. GREAT JOB- especially the references to main stream, so-called, "Artists"
He then replied with, "I was wondering if I could sign with you also when I finish my music?"
me, "You Bet, Colin!"
After more conversation, Colin gave me permission to include it in my efforts. Here it is- unpolished and raw-
Verse 1: "Bruh cant sleep, counting black sheep, trying to close my eyes too,
instead- i'm vocalizing my word in to this sentence.
yes, it's a rap bout time you know that,
what u don't understand- i'm no country boy-
city boy all my life so, please don't beg me to watch CMT,
if wanna know me,
lets watch mtv
now lets get to the main picture,
i hate mumble rappers desighner,
design sum better lyrics. i'm sorry you had gotten shot,
but you sound like an auto tuned robot,
and chief keef- you think your rhymes are l...egit, you mumbling git, so go ahead try a little harder u might get the music award next to year of never better, but boy ur life is about to be my new toy, im hitten this song like a fallout across the nation, they will know my name, i will rise to fame before lets not forget little wayne! u sound like and 89 year old on a breathing tube smoking crack cocain, im not in this to dis but somebody had to end that shit so let me end this rap this new MC is on the attack_logical " " should i pursue rap career?"
Privacy Options, Engagements, and file systems & then some.
Lost engagements, parties, and conversations-
What Debt!
Thank God, for a Moment Spent with my Pamphlet.
I had an Engagement...I Decided to Cancel~
Enough of that, although I could go on but most likely lose the attention of anyone who may
personally care- other than just losing the interest of the general Reader altogether.
In my haste to resurrect my previous endeavors, I failed to READ THE MANUALS.
I just jumped right back on and rode it as hard as I could, for as long as I could, and kept going.
It didn't occur to me that I would be wasting any time what so ever, if I just kept at it.
Everything has been set aside- caring for myself being one of them. I just stay at my claim,
and pan away night and day- often causing myself more problems in the process.
Hashtags, for instance, are HUGE... if you know how to use them.
Although, thinking of them often but more as a piece of debris whizzing by in the spinning storm of
thoughts that paralyze a person into a heap of confusion-
the kind that make it so you need a whole week just to make a piece of toast.
And that doesn't count the spreading.
After the failing of my domestic efforts, my life has spun out of control. Hiding within the walls of a
place where I cannot appear to reside, has made it even harder to escape the prison in my head.
A separation in medical services, medications, and all forms of support, have had huge implications.
My only coping mechanisms, other than copious amount of alcohol, guitar, and writing, are staying
focused on... exposing myself (laugh track), in hopes of finding a gig- doesn't matter.
Keeping people engaged is encouraging, though no one follows the story on Blogger, or
YouTube, but I don't ask people either. Nor do I tag my materials appropriately or proofread, or any
one of the processes at completing an essay properly. I haven't done anything but share a bunch of
crazy scribbling, subtly whining and crying about my pathetic existence.
The margins aren't set right, nothing's spaced properly. I get it.
Just a week ago, it dawned on me to compare notes, so I broke it down
and started using symbols and images- adding my own brand of
SALIENCY- maybe too much.
The smartest thing I have done in the past year, was purchasing a good computer.
It wasn't that the iMac20 isn't good, it's fantastic. The problem is
my RAM is malfunctioning, which is killing me because I have had it for 7
years. It has all of my content on it, not to mention that I am familiar with it.
This comp, however is pretty fancy. I thought I'd be smart at BestBuy-
asking, "which one do them smarty-pants college kids buy with dad's money?"
I had to buy the next one up from that... and to be honest, I haven't got a clue how to use it.
If I actually worked at it rather than journal or focus on trying to sell things that are not properly
represented on the various sites that my content is located, I might have actually become to where I
search to be. I ask that you understand, Prospect Studio was scrapped by the insistence of my love
interest, and has been a mere fantasy smoldering in the memories that storm.
In my haste and exhaustion
I picked up my new comp two fingered
By the screen... Pinching and breaking it, rendering it useless. Fortunately I purchased the protection plan but it does me no good at the moment and will be several weeks befor I have it back. By that time I will have been placed in situations out of my control and unable to continue my efforts. My fear is that my contacts and developments will have been all but extinguished.
My Ship has been destroyed and is sinking. I am left with only my dinghy and no oars, so push on in distress, I must.
While my foot runs the bilge, and my hand's on the tiller,
"......My mind finally snapped, crumbling the walls I had built of patience, understanding, and forgiveness- releasing an enormous amount of negative energy and fury towards, Bob. I wanted him dead. He had beat me up with his attitude and hatred and nasty statements about me and my ex-wife, my kids, and my friend Danny, to the point where I wanted to see him dead. “Be careful what you wish for”, echoed in my mind, so I didn’t wish it but when Lisa’s neighbor said that he was flying to California to take a job and to live- needing to sell his car and his handgun; the answer to my riddle was revealed. For just one hundred dollars I could wipe him and his negative force clean from the face of the earth, and end my own pain as well. It would be a murder/extermination and a suicide. How could I stand to live with the pain and guilt of killing even a so-called man, on top of all of the grief he had forced back to the surface? The seeming decision was made while Bob was preparing for his annual NASCAR event that he went to in Florida every year. When he got back he would pay me. The money would go to buying the gun, and it would be over.
The clock was ticking, the guy had a departure time that he couldn’t miss, and Bob had to be back so I could get the gun. But God had other plans or had better plans. Bob wouldn’t make it back in time to pay me, and the job offer in California wouldn’t wait. That was because the Hero in Bob’s world, “the Intimidator”, would die on the racetrack in a, not so nasty, crash. That, to me, was a fair consolation prize since lots of people would now be less impacted with the over-emasculating effects of impressionable men trying on his ego. He reminded me of my stepfather, very much. The man was no Hero and he was no role model. Secretly, I was satisfied with that small amount of pain that Bob was given, and thankful for the psychological and emotional relief that spared both of our lives. Hopefully he learns what’s important in life and discovers how to free himself from his own prison before it’s too late. Knowing and sharing real love, in all its truth and beauty, is priceless. So, myself, I am very thankful to think that I finally have that in my life.
So, instead of inflicting my own brand of pain onto Bob, I wrote him a letter of several pages, which I handed him to read when I met him at our rendezvous for work one morning. It started with, “From the mind of Zachery Polk.” He voiced his opposition from the start but read it, asking if he could keep it to study. I wish I had made a copy of it. Anyway, he stated that maybe we should part ways for a while- mumbling something about just wanting to help. Him and I knew he just wanted someone to fight with. What made him the most irate of it all was that I could not be provoked to give him the response he sought for. With me, I’m more of an all or nothing type, I guess, or at least I was then. Maybe it’s my own personal growth. Who really knows if I've grown? All I know is, I am glad the chain of events has happened the way that they had. I would not be here to share what I have learned if I had done something so costly, over such an insignificant person impeding my life's path. I have never harmed an individual in my whole life, despite the many situations when I could have dragged them in to a court but then again, they all knew that I had a head injury, and that I had not the capitol to bring them before anyone who could do anything about it. Little did I know, I had Adult Abuse Cases the whole time. But, then again, I never wanted to hurt anyone ever, let alone to see them being in pain. Maybe that's foolish but that's just how I feel, having been abused from birth, I am sensitive to violence in even the weakest form.
My happiness can hardly be measured today, and I am so thankful for all of the experiences I have had. The gratitude I have is unexplainable. The peace I am feeling is precious. My intent that I may share my story with someone to impact positively on their existence is a cornucopia of hopes. I am a Father, a Husband, and a Teacher again, and I am truly happy and content.
Anyhow, now I am looking for work again, which is really nothing unusual for any independent labor provider. It’s a good thing, looking for work. The constant change is why I like being a carpenter instead of working in a factory- always having to deal with the same people, places, poisons and perspectives or lack of them.
Danny and I had a few projects here and there but things seemed to be drying up completely. All over the Grand Rapids area that he had been mining, perspective clients would become more and more aware of his drinking and unreliability, and the fact that he was just too laid back for people to appreciate. So, Danny would go back to the places where he had known people, to try to eke out his daily existence. He was, pretty much, just waiting to die. His secret hope had always been to meet a woman who’d impact his world and essentially “save” him from his despair- his plight. Until then, he would bury himself in a multifarious reality as an artist. (that's spooky) In all of this, we were alike, for the most part.
An ad in the classifieds of the Grand Rapids Press, for a Trim carpenter, caught my eye one day. The next day the city bus system would take me out to Meijer’s, on Knapp Street and East Beltline, where I met the builder who placed the ad.
Shawn seemed pretty even keeled. And between his ego and his character, he was pretty entertaining. The Three Stooges come to mind when I think about him. That was, at first but after I got to know him better he was no different than any other person I had met and became acquainted with. The house he was building was located east of the East Beltline, north off of Three-mile road.
Shawn was recently divorced and had his daughter in his custody. She was a nine-year-old, and was very articulate. It soon became clear that he was an alcoholic when he revealed his ability to suck down a thirty pack by dinner. He would send me to the Marathon gas station, to get the Coors and Copenhagen, in his Ford King-Cab Power stroke diesel. On one of the first trips in his truck to get beer, I got the crap scared out of me when a young guy came tearing into the parking lot, losing control of his vehicle and running into the light pole on the south side of the station- right by where I parked Shawn’s truck, which I happened to be driving with NO driver’s license! The light pole appeared as though it was going to fall on me but resounded only to lean. The car got a pretty good amount of damage, busting up the grill, wrinkling the hood a bit and deforming the bumper. I wouldn’t doubt the light pole to still lean to this day but maybe not.
Yeah, I broke a sweat over that but it was nothing compared to the sweat Shawn broke… that is if he ever stopped sweating. Wow. It had to be alcohol related, and boy, did it smell bad- just like an old dishtowel that was always left in the sink in a crumpled wad. It would eventually come out that he was going to declare Bankruptcy. Thanks to alcohol and Ego, he ran off at the mouth a lot about himself. The part he didn’t actually tell me with words was that he was a desperate man. He was as desperate as a man can get, which was why he was building the house. The drinking was so bad that, between the smell of stale beer, alcohol, and profuse sweating- you couldn’t smell anything but that. The smells of fresh oak and paint were completely drowned out.
Shawn’s daughter would be around the jobsite, now and again, since there were issues with the sitter quite often. He claimed his wife cheated on him. My guess is that she cheated on his Ego and that the acquisition of the kid was only due to his own selfishness and legal counsel that he only afforded himself out of spite.
There were women he met on the computer- FTF they called themselves, which he’d bring around after hours for show and tell. The scraps he threw to me, I never helped myself to- out of respect for myself. My interest in women wasn’t a casual one. My hope was to find a person worth sharing with- someone to build a home, a life, and a family with. Chasing after a mate had caused me plenty of grief already, and I knew that looking is the best way not to find one.
One day Shawn came to work bragging about a woman he met online- a widow. She was driving up from Tennessee in a Corvette- a red one, no less. Why? It was probably because her husband was dead. Anyone I know who is loaded would fly up and rent a sweet ride but whatever. They jumped right into bed, of course. The next day was filled with stories of their escapades and how she insisted on sleeping with his ‘one thing’ in her mouth- like a pacifier. I wondered how she could stand the smell of him but he must have painted a sweet enough image of his affluence, a circumstance sure enough that would seem to drown out the smell. In reality, she was just another desperate soul, grabbing at the straws in life.
Building an image, being cast of having money, was exactly what the house he was building was supposed to do. He went out of his way to find things that would exact him as my superior- or exact me as inferior, always calling me nigger. Between his condescension and the constant drinking, he was becoming a problem to me but I needed the income and thoroughly enjoyed performing my trade. The act of my performance intended to speak the things to him that I needed to be understood. Whether he understood or not didn’t matter so much. What did matter was that I recognized the possibility that maybe I needed the elements exposed to me as an open lesson for something greater.
It was getting time for the hardware and paint finishes. This was when I got a chance to hook up Joe with some work- painting and helping to build the deck on the backside of the house. It was refreshing for me, having Joe on the job. That took the most part of the aggravation out of my day at work with Shawn. My job, historically, has often been to do the impossible- the stuff no one can figure out, which I can almost always do. The intent of the people I worked for was often to put me on a task that they were sure I would be unable to complete on my own. It did not gain me their respect in most cases. Out of their own insecurity, it ending up that they would despise me even more.
One day, while Shawn was entertaining more of his Internet conquests and other outsiders, he took the belt sander from my hands as I was carefully shaping in a complicated transition in some stairwell capping where there was a step and compound miter detail- only to grind a big gouge in the center of something that I had taken a ton of care to fabricate. It was quite beautiful until he had to “show me” how to do it. This particular spot was right in a high traffic area, where your eye is drawn to the intricacy of the woodwork. It’s a wonder if he looks at that spot today, and remembers how foolish it was to emphasize that he was the King? It’s doubtful since he was a hack when it came down to it. Like, maybe he was really a prop builder for television, not a homebuilder.
He cobbled a bar and entertainment center together as if it was a stage prop, ruining my tools and cords in the process by dragging the sheets of plywood across the floor, cutting the casings and wires of my cords badly. The copper was hanging out on several of them. It was the fine I had been imposed with for having experience enough to see his mistakes- typical male Ego.
A few days later, the winds would pay him back for me, when he instructed me to pick up the yard and burn the trash. The wind kicked up the flames, turning a small fire into a scorcher, which blasted his tool trailer, melting the rubber molding that covered the seams on the side. It was funny watching him try to move the trailer in a hurry.
Maybe it was partly Mother Nature- paying him back for swerving to hit the Mother Goose as she stuck her neck out from the weeds, at the edge of the road, to look before taking her babies back across to their home at the farm. They had been enjoying the pond, learning what to eat, while playing in the water. It was pretty sad to see her lying there, dead, on the side of the road. When I mentioned it, he admitted to killing her with his truck- saying how she shouldn’t have stuck her neck out there to be hit.
He tried playing the religion card, mentioning how his Rabbi had told him about me. Whether or not it was true isn’t the point. The point is being careful with people who want you to believe they are religious, believing in God, implying that they have good, sound, principles and ethics. These are the people that are manipulating you for their own agendas.
Anyway, in a while, things would shift and we would be working on an apartment complex consisting of four-plexes, located across the street from the River Town Crossings Mall. Myself, and one other carpenter, would work on that project for less than two months before Shawn would lose the contract for various reasons. One reason was that he, personally, never showed up. The other reason was due to being caught over-billing for the work done- submitting the bill in twice. It was a blessing in disguise, I’m sure."
Although my embarrassment, I have journalized the whole incident
for the world to learn from. Please appreciate that, and learn to protect yourselves,
and your families. Every bit of it is true. All info has been provided that I could get.
Please forgive me for not having the ability to extrapolate the details
that might be needed. I did the best that I could, considering my life situation.
I mean well. Please understand that. I Love You. BUT This Is My Article. If You Would Like Rights To Reproduce it, in Part or in Whole, You Need to Ask- FIRST USE
Thank You For Your consideration. Info Has been withheld- there's more so, think about that if you plan to steal my work. I am disabled.
Have A Wonderful Day. Someone Has To. bandanabro/twitter
The Conversation quickly went from being a seemingly harmless interaction with,
a "woman," demanding to see my unmentionables
.
After a few moments, the screen went blank and this is what transpired.
After seeing her nakedness and what she wanted to show me, she said:
"show me cok now okay baby"
Keep in mind, I had been approached by this person for many days,
always asking for a video sex chat. Since I did not know who this person was,
I stayed away from them.
This particular night, due to drinking, I let down my guard,
even though I sensed that something wasn't right. It was a feeling I had.
Thinking this person was in Arkansas, I thought, "what the hell".
SO, the video disappears, and I get this next message
(all word for word transcriptions)
3:50 A.M. April 2, 2017
"Listen to Mr: Zachery Polk- You see this video is good of you then here you try
to cut the cam for you run I will start to swing this video in the site
you will really see what I am able so do not try to escape
if you Want to hold me head or play hard you I will publish it then
I advise you against you to try to cut the cam or disconnects you
in order to find a friendly deal in order to remove your video
in the silence before it is silk Too late okay?"
"Remains calm and answers quickly to my question or you want I publish your video"
????
My response is, "For what?"
Them- "Especially do not believe that it is a game or a joke
or not answer correctly my questions because it will only
worsen the situation in which you find yourself confronted because
this video of you pornographic character can cause enough prejudice in your life!!"
3:57 AM 4/2/2017
Them- "I will be very Franch with you Especially Pe cut the Cam
or Disconnect, Believe me I disadvantage you, Stay there
Let's Speak More Quietly Because there you are confronted with a story
that can rot and harden you Life And Total Removal Of This Video
You Remain There And You Listening To The End Of Knowing The Deal
And Prosecution Of What It Should Be Followed For
This Video Silk Deleted Definitely Without Being Published And Shared Okay??
beinbinn wanderlust- Fille
Cody Polk- Fils
Scarlett Polk- Fille
Siena Rodriguez- Bella fille
Amanda Musselman- Soeur
Josh Musselman
"In time your video is downloaded on the site of video sharing "YOUTUBE"
but in private mode you will like that I publish it and the watch
has your family and your friends?"
me- "For what purpose?"
them- "You want this video to be viewed by these folks, members of the family?"
me- "What do you want?
Them- "Tell me, Would you like this video of you to be shared
