Works in Progress
Some Trailers or Teasers, if you will of upcoming Blog projects.
These will appear later on in no certain order.
But it should give you a view of how things work with me.
I still stick with the report writing style as dictated to me by theState Troops.
Every organization, entity, has schedules to follow and keep.
And I do to.
Title;
SUFFER THE CHILDREN or
We Are We Are-Youth of theNation or
Are You My Daddy?
Introduction:
Oh God, look what I got myself into.
having to write another post.
I need sleep.
Body:
20+ yrs ago it was my time to Prepare for Today.
Today it is our Youth’s time to prepare for Tomorrow.
Will develop a good sense of self-worth and of being loved.
Parents need to express love and affection.
We all need to feel these things; to be Loved, Respected and Appreciated
Even if they groan, sigh, pull away, when you show affection
or in my case,
Tease unmercifully-Deep down inside they love it and want it,
Gotta have it!
Recognize efforts, Counsel Don't control.
Hug them and Spank them!!
Let the youth develp their own opinions, view points and teach them to develop a relationship with God theFather and with Jesus Christ.
Ending:
Big, round and looks good in jeans!!
I think I'll just stick with "Are you MY Daddy?" and post a few pics of my favorite
village Kidz.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Title;
MillStone
Introduction;
theSecret Loser
Deosn't she look great, so confident.
She is such a perfectionist, always trying to do better. She really has her head on straight.
She sure knows where she is going, the model human being.
Everyone's ideal person; so cheery, friendly and open to all.
She's so willing to help anybody. I bet she has a lot of friends and a very comfortable homelife.
But what of her homelife? If only they knew.I'm the perfect pretender.
I have problems just like everyone else.
Would people like me so much if they knew what I was really like?
And what friends? I don't have any really close friends, sincere friends.
What does a sincere friends look like?
Would I recognize one if one were standing in front of me.
My homelife is nonexistent. When I am there, it is my physical being only.
I am a prisoner of myself, held captive by my emotions,
not willing to show people who I really am.
Work is a refuge for me.
Isn't it funny how a person can be almost robotic in their work place?!
That's me, the robot. If you look close enough, you might even see my program.
I am scared of everything: changes, new ideas, how people will think of me, etc.....
I am what you might call a secret loser.
I mean, look at what I am losing out on; friends, family, fun, excitement.....life.
I am great at pretending. Not unlike a robot, I don't show pain, hurt, tears.
I never said I didn't feel those emotions, just never showed them.
I bet you didn't even know.
I hid them well...
I hid me!
Nadine Callihoo Oshanyk, November 11,1987
"The Spirit Weeps" Characteristics and Dynamics of Incest and Child Sexual Abuse by Tony Martens
Body;
Expound upon the them of thePoem above.
Relate that Sexual Assault/Abuse occurs in every community in Alaska as well as elsewhere in theWorld.
Relate One, perhaps Two stories.
1. Jenny.
2. Natalia.
I met her in theCity while quick-shopping after taking two Prisoners to jail.
Stopped by theStore to get more .45cal ammo for my Glock, bought a whole cooked rotisary chicken, juice and more batteries for my Taser.
She was from Europe, caught in the violence of Bosnian against Serb.
She had seen her family slaughtered and hid from theSoldiers.
10 yrs later she was far far away from theViolence.
America is beautiful she told me. So peaceful.
Are we awake or asleep? I asked her one day.
She looked at me with her blue eyes and said, You are asleep.
She had just recently come to Alaska about a year before I did.
Had spent time in Spain, Italy then Germany before going to New York.
Then she went to LA and then Portland before ending up in Alaska-in theCity.
Are you a model? I teased one day. She smiled and said yes.
But I could see her eyes were pained for a moment.
Her images are somewhere in the Internet she says, no doubt due to her beauty and
to her temporary stupidity.
Her photographer and the twoMale models that sexed her opened her flesh and used her. She still hears the cold shutter snap and whir.
She worked at a Starbucks in Portland until one day, she vomited at work and ran out.
The steamers smelled like theMen; all over her face, inside of her mouth, inside of her.
Everytime I had to snap pics of domestic victims and crime scenes in theVillage afterwards-images flashed in my head of her.
Sorry, I spoke.
She just smiled at me then looked far away.
What was it like to run from theSoldiers? I asked.
I was more surprised by her bluntness and honesty.
Most of us Americans take camping outdoors for granted.
We have tents and food and water.
Some of us are cold for a time but get to go back home to a house and warmth.
To security.
She had nothing but the clothes on her back.
No shoes.
It was rainy, wet, cold.
She ran, they all ran, the people with her, when theSoldiers with the
Tiger Brigade patches on their shoulders came.
Ran into theWoods and never stopped moving. Now and then
someone in front of her would drop. Someone beside her, two girls
from her village were beside her and then they were dead.
The soldiers tracked them with their German Shepherds and shot
the stragglers.
I told her of my family history and of my own Native people.
She knew of the Native Americans. Everyone studies American History but YOU people she laughed.
3. ErinLee.
theApt,
theSalon,
theStreet,
Ending;
They were all abused, targeted, victimized at one time.
One in theVillage, One during war and another in theCity.
All faced these demons and rose above and moved on in life.
I was privileged to stand in their presence.
Heros to me all of them.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Title:
Ghosts In theMachine
Introduction:
Unchain theNight.
Follow me!
Over here!
Body:
Ice cold.
Shadows.
X marks theSpot
Ending:
Hunted.
I stand where I belong.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Title:
Introduction:
Body:
Ending:
These will appear later on in no certain order.
But it should give you a view of how things work with me.
I still stick with the report writing style as dictated to me by theState Troops.
Every organization, entity, has schedules to follow and keep.
And I do to.
Title;
SUFFER THE CHILDREN or
We Are We Are-Youth of theNation or
Are You My Daddy?
Introduction:
Oh God, look what I got myself into.
having to write another post.
I need sleep.
Body:
20+ yrs ago it was my time to Prepare for Today.
Today it is our Youth’s time to prepare for Tomorrow.
Will develop a good sense of self-worth and of being loved.
Parents need to express love and affection.
We all need to feel these things; to be Loved, Respected and Appreciated
Even if they groan, sigh, pull away, when you show affection
or in my case,
Tease unmercifully-Deep down inside they love it and want it,
Gotta have it!
Recognize efforts, Counsel Don't control.
Hug them and Spank them!!
Let the youth develp their own opinions, view points and teach them to develop a relationship with God theFather and with Jesus Christ.
Ending:
Big, round and looks good in jeans!!
I think I'll just stick with "Are you MY Daddy?" and post a few pics of my favorite
village Kidz.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Title;
MillStone
Introduction;
theSecret Loser
Deosn't she look great, so confident.
She is such a perfectionist, always trying to do better. She really has her head on straight.
She sure knows where she is going, the model human being.
Everyone's ideal person; so cheery, friendly and open to all.
She's so willing to help anybody. I bet she has a lot of friends and a very comfortable homelife.
But what of her homelife? If only they knew.I'm the perfect pretender.
I have problems just like everyone else.
Would people like me so much if they knew what I was really like?
And what friends? I don't have any really close friends, sincere friends.
What does a sincere friends look like?
Would I recognize one if one were standing in front of me.
My homelife is nonexistent. When I am there, it is my physical being only.
I am a prisoner of myself, held captive by my emotions,
not willing to show people who I really am.
Work is a refuge for me.
Isn't it funny how a person can be almost robotic in their work place?!
That's me, the robot. If you look close enough, you might even see my program.
I am scared of everything: changes, new ideas, how people will think of me, etc.....
I am what you might call a secret loser.
I mean, look at what I am losing out on; friends, family, fun, excitement.....life.
I am great at pretending. Not unlike a robot, I don't show pain, hurt, tears.
I never said I didn't feel those emotions, just never showed them.
I bet you didn't even know.
I hid them well...
I hid me!
Nadine Callihoo Oshanyk, November 11,1987
"The Spirit Weeps" Characteristics and Dynamics of Incest and Child Sexual Abuse by Tony Martens
Body;
Expound upon the them of thePoem above.
Relate that Sexual Assault/Abuse occurs in every community in Alaska as well as elsewhere in theWorld.
Relate One, perhaps Two stories.
1. Jenny.
2. Natalia.
I met her in theCity while quick-shopping after taking two Prisoners to jail.
Stopped by theStore to get more .45cal ammo for my Glock, bought a whole cooked rotisary chicken, juice and more batteries for my Taser.
She was from Europe, caught in the violence of Bosnian against Serb.
She had seen her family slaughtered and hid from theSoldiers.
10 yrs later she was far far away from theViolence.
America is beautiful she told me. So peaceful.
Are we awake or asleep? I asked her one day.
She looked at me with her blue eyes and said, You are asleep.
She had just recently come to Alaska about a year before I did.
Had spent time in Spain, Italy then Germany before going to New York.
Then she went to LA and then Portland before ending up in Alaska-in theCity.
Are you a model? I teased one day. She smiled and said yes.
But I could see her eyes were pained for a moment.
Her images are somewhere in the Internet she says, no doubt due to her beauty and
to her temporary stupidity.
Her photographer and the twoMale models that sexed her opened her flesh and used her. She still hears the cold shutter snap and whir.
She worked at a Starbucks in Portland until one day, she vomited at work and ran out.
The steamers smelled like theMen; all over her face, inside of her mouth, inside of her.
Everytime I had to snap pics of domestic victims and crime scenes in theVillage afterwards-images flashed in my head of her.
Sorry, I spoke.
She just smiled at me then looked far away.
What was it like to run from theSoldiers? I asked.
I was more surprised by her bluntness and honesty.
Most of us Americans take camping outdoors for granted.
We have tents and food and water.
Some of us are cold for a time but get to go back home to a house and warmth.
To security.
She had nothing but the clothes on her back.
No shoes.
It was rainy, wet, cold.
She ran, they all ran, the people with her, when theSoldiers with the
Tiger Brigade patches on their shoulders came.
Ran into theWoods and never stopped moving. Now and then
someone in front of her would drop. Someone beside her, two girls
from her village were beside her and then they were dead.
The soldiers tracked them with their German Shepherds and shot
the stragglers.
I told her of my family history and of my own Native people.
She knew of the Native Americans. Everyone studies American History but YOU people she laughed.
3. ErinLee.
theApt,
theSalon,
theStreet,
Ending;
They were all abused, targeted, victimized at one time.
One in theVillage, One during war and another in theCity.
All faced these demons and rose above and moved on in life.
I was privileged to stand in their presence.
Heros to me all of them.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Title:
Ghosts In theMachine
Introduction:
Unchain theNight.
Follow me!
Over here!
Body:
Ice cold.
Shadows.
X marks theSpot
Ending:
Hunted.
I stand where I belong.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Title:
Introduction:
Body:
Ending:
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