From birth, I have been hidden, quieted, ignored when speaking, and beaten into submission to the point where I cannot deal with confrontations of any kind- that is, up until a handful of years ago.
Now, I find myself in a situation where, I am working on a pot farm, while rehabbing an old farm house for, what would come to be, free. I am desperate to have a place to belong so, I work my ass off trying to prove myself valuable, in order to be rewarded with anything resembling security. That security more closely resembles the life of a rabid dog, that is kept in a degrading living situation. There is no physical hot water, other than the hot water I am in, much like a frog, I am yet to learn that it's boiling. Let's see the back track.
Lonnie Deitz, a Lundington, Michigan man, was recently raided after a, seemingly, major series of drug transactions, to an undercover officer, selling cocaine nine times. Just before the raid, he was entertaining an individual from Colorado- showing him his marijuana garden, as three police vehicles swarmed into the yard. Details are yet to be revealed. What is clear is that there were three drug related deaths, recently, from heroine.
Six arrests have been made, one of which had several children involved in the scenario that witnessed the ordeal. They cannot "unexperience" that, and will, likely, remember it for the rest of their lives.
The person that I am involved with, as to my current "existence," is a friend and associate of Mr. Deitz. It seems, Lonnie happens to be an, aspiring choirboy, come to find out.
So, here I am, in a rural setting. There is running water (over hard), a toilet, utility sink, and a shower. The shower is a Full length tub surround, which is outside (sitting in the weeds to the rear of the house- on the driveway side). Hot water is made during the day, byway of a solar bag that I hung from a lag bolt, with a length of rope attached to it, and then strung back to the house, where the rope runs through an eye bolt that is strategically positioned for raising and lowering it alone.
You decide how hot by intervening with the solar heating process. Coleman did good with this solar bag. I get three to four showers per bag- depending on how greedy I get for the soothing sensation of the foundation of familiarity- the warm waters of the womb...
The YoutTube video, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ROsDjUiGwTQ
"Carving out a place to be"
is a brief tour of the substandard living conditions, to say the least. And he thinks that should be paying him $600 a month for rent! I could sue him too but I really don't want to.
There is a long list of people and corporations. Two of which are police agencies but how would taking money from the state and county be helping anyone? I mean, I could use the money for my work but that would hurt the areas where the money was reallocated from, wouldn't it?
I think about shit before I act.
It's easy to criticize from afar, anyone or any situation. Having no hands-on experience in other countries, one can only make assumptions with their available input... Limited Input. For instance, it is unknown, to me, what the refuse handling protocols are in other countries but I have seen "Slumdog Millionaire". Television has taken me around the world, virtually, to see the filth of China and the scents in the streets of Italy. "Programming" has offered insight as to the mining practices in the Rain-forest (Western region of South America), where they are stripping the forest growth in search of Gold.... which I am very disappointed with.
For instance, once they get to the ore containing soil, it's placed in a 55 gallon drum. A CHILD then is given a softball sized amount of mercury to play with. Te
these children climb into the barrel and stomp it as if they were making mash for wine. The mercury "collects" the gold particles, "PARTICLES". It's a very small amount but every penny counts, right? They dump it out into the rivers, and onto the ground. and then collect the mass, then to be cooked down and separated. The mercury is reused- but only what is left, losing an amount each time it's handled.
The "World" does not care. It does not care for the exploitation of these children, causing them to have the need for money. It only wants the gold, and the labor- affordable labor, to obtain it's possession.
It is easy to criticize. Criticism is good.... Sometimes.
Constructively criticizing is about offering an opportunity to voice that criticism in search of completing a process of dreaming up a question. If you do not ask the question you never offer yourself an opportunity for closure... and personal development. Here's a scenario - and I am going to use myself as an example... throwing myself under the bus, so as to speak:
Criticism offered: "Mr. Polk. We really love something that you have seemingly been struggling to write. Why has it not yet been finished?"
Input offered: "Dear Reader, I am very glad you asked. I would love nothing more than to complete, "Escaping The Despondent Sea," (for instance).
"The problem has been that I have been caught down a rabbit hole. Alice has shared her mushroom with me, and it seems I have been stuck in her world helping her until that time when I can be set free from my seeming obligations, then to return to my world where I may continue. Recently, I have arrived at the point in the story where I have actually Escaped, and the ending has now manifested before my own eyes with my reawakening. And having been Empowered through suffering and decision, I am now taking a stand in order to demonstrate, in real time, what I am saying to my fellow Man (and woman). I truly appreciate your interest, and now (in between making up for 20 years of neglect caused by the absence of a man in the home, along with a misguided family in regards to what "supporting" each other actually means), I am stepping in and taking responsibility for what might happen, and what needs to be done.
Although I have not any hopes of rebuilding my family, and getting my children back, I can demonstrate how very much I love them by-way of what I can do for others, regardless if I ever make a profit from my labors. That's what being a Father is. You don't get paid. It's your Job, And We Are All Fathers (and Mothers). With that, I invite you to enjoy the music library, and mull over those stupid little scribblings that are offered until then." Book 1 is on KIndle in eFormat. Book 2 soon.
You see how that works? It's very easy. You just open your mouth, once you have opened your mind, and continue on with the quest to end your wonder. And Never stop wondering. Turn off the innundation that is robbing you of becoming whole, and become something that those who are in control may fear- SomeOne With A Voice. https://youtu.be/TO80mKSY8kU
Notes on "How To Change The World" https://youtu.be/tFZx0JpBF64
One of many missions- "This Is My Statement," regarding what Prospect Studio intends to do https://youtu.be/w5gw3PxJKb8
Follow-up video from "statement" "Easter Egg Promo"
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kVI4UsKHoPc
Well, I don't have time to organize my thoughts on any of this at the moment so, forgive me. I'm a lot like #Bukowski and #HunterSThompson. I just sit down and write, and the words just pour out.
After settling in at Jenny's cousin, Dennis's house in, Coldwater Michigan, I quickly went to work for him in the last company I ever wanted to work for due to the fact that I don't like doing concrete work. I am a finish carpenter, and failing to recognize my worth was one of his biggest mistakes.
He cheated on his wife, which should of been a red flag, and was but I ignored it out of my desperation for a place to live and an income. He paid me only 100 dollars a day, which was from 7 a.m. until whenever he felt the day was over, then to ask me to work saturdays- For Free!
During that time, he manipulated me to get everything out of me that he could. He criticizewd me for doing exactly what he instructed me to do- Even though he knows that I am disabled, and caonnot lift more than a certain amount of weight, or work more than 4-6 hours a day.
He was over bearing, and insistent on being the "Alpha'' male. He always made references, subtle and direct, regarding giving him oral sex- some of these conversations were recorded on my phone for my protection. He was oppressive to me in every way- always telling me that I needed to work and not write or try to continue in my efforts with Prospect Studio. He didn't want me on the meds I was perscribed. He didn't want me getting medical attention. He was on the keto diet, which meant everyone was on the keto diet. He wouldnt allow us to have coffee breaks. And when lunch time rolled around we might get fifteen minutes to eat his coldcuts and crap. Sorry my autocorrect isnt on and I am frantic to write this down now for anyone who may care about me.
I have been locked up in my bedroom, and unable to leave my own mind- consistently brow-beaten over my medical needs and requirements. (adult abuse).
He would invite me to dinner on Friday night, going to Bill's Grillhouse, where he would drink top shelf vodka and then often stick me with the bill- even though I had only a 12 dollar hamburger and a couple draft beers, about 20 bucks. The bill, however, was around 250 with a tip... On my 500 a week income. WHATEVER.
Anyway, I toyed with the thought of quitting and moving on but my plan of accumulating money and a new opportunity had not been fulfilled. When I shared these plans with "Jason" I was asked very sincerely, to stick it out for a while- Jason was suicidal over it all too, and because of the friendship that we had, I stayed.
Yet, one day, out of the blue, I decided to try tinder again. Met a woman within 24hours that wanted to meet- never counting on it. This makes for about 40 women that I have been out with in the past few years. Each one has something horribly wrong with their lives that I couldn't subject myself to. SO, we met and spent the weekend together.
This is the short version.
I finally decided that enough was enough with Dennis after having been robbed of 4 grand cash out of my bedroom. If I can't trust you with my money, I cannot trust you with my life.
I took what was left and began carrying it on my person. Over my dead body type of thing. And I mean it.
I instructed Julie to come get me and take me to work that Friday (about 3 weeks ago) See twitter.
Her orders were to drop me off at the job, and to find me a weekly room at a motel.
It was Saturday night when she finally broke down and told me what has happening , and been happening, at her home.
She explained that the electrical circuits keep popping all of the time, and that the switches and outlets are melting and sparking. She explained that her 83 year old mother, 8 year old grand-daughter, and her only daughter live with her in the home. AND that she has 5 horses with an electrical fence that needs mending, 9 cats, 5 dogs... and a pig running loose that is the yard.
And that's just the... Tip.
I ordered her to take me to her home immediately. So, we packed up all of my crap, cashed out the room, and jumped on the road.
When I got to her home I walked into a nightmare- to say the least. Taking the helm of her vessel, I began barking orders and making a list of materials and tools that were needed.
After spending around 600 dollars on the things for her home- tools that were needed and equipment, the calls for back-up were made. If I had not stepped in, she would have went to jail eventually for animal welfare, elderly welfare, child abuse, and the list goes on. Initially, the vision of her family burning up in a house fire during the holidays was in the paper of my mind. Refusing to stand by and wait for that to happen, I took responsibility for everything. She could not be charged with anything due to the fact that there was actions being taken.
The home next door belonged to her mom, since her father passed away 9 years ago this November 5th. She moved mom in with her, and the house was abandoned. I surveyed and inventoried evrything that was in her best interest- from my own perspective. After calling builders in the area to come assess the situation, none responded. The local paper was on the freezer so, I thumbed through it to find someone to bang heads together with. I wanted someone to give me an idea regarding the hopes and costs for the endeavor but there was only a Handy-man ad. I was the damn handy-man here. I wanted someone with a brain.
Well, after battling in my head over calling him, I finally did. Ed came right out with his wife, looking it over just enough to tell me sixty grand... up front! NO! I said to myself. I can do it on a shoe string.
He went on to offer me a job. After agreeing to pay me a piddly 20 bucks an hour, which I was happy to have a job offer so quickly in the area, he gave me the coordinates and time to meet.
After a few days, I told him that the guy he had working was NO GOOD. And, in short, I got rid of him and took over. Now, I have made a very good friend, which I needed here, providing me with a buffer from the atrocities at the home that I have to tend to.
We spent Thanksgiving together, last night, at his home in, Defiance. That's where God has guided me, I guess because I am "defiant" but I will remain to be until I am recognized as the right person to the Throne. And if anyone has a problem with that, we can talk about it.
If you would like to actually "See" the real deal, go to YouTube,
MrBluesilingus/ZacheryPolk https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC7BKod0EmZ0sVDItRLkZ7ig?view_as=subscriber
and find, "Out of the frying pan, and Into the FIRE".
There are 16 parts so far, making up a video series chapter of my Book, "Escaping The Despondent Sea" Maybe I should privatize them as they are my notes essentially. Here's a link to the first one, which I botched somehow due to having only a crappy Straight-talk service and phone from Wal Mart- where poor people shop.
https://youtu.be/phIcsTiLTMI
I gotta run. I will be back with more soon. If not, it's because I am dead. Thanks a lot for reading my stories! Until someone shoots me for speaking out, I will continue to do so, and I urge each, and every one of you, to do the same.
Peace, Love,. Care
Come see me. You might find something Special.
Zachery S. Polk
