I started my life young. At 13 i got my tax ID and started my first business at 14, moving away from home or at least what should of been my home. I was adopted before birth and don’t know what a family is. I’ve been alone for a long time…
I knew of one person who was like a mother and that’s it. But at 24 that ended.
The neighborhood i moved into was the one i grew up in, the one those who adopted me would drop me off in, with this woman who was like my mother.
Since i was 8, I’ve known a deputy from here. A corrupt deputy, who’s in-laws live in my neighborhood.
There was a philosopher ( david henry thoreau ) who once said, “when the laws are unjust, the just are imprisoned.” And, “the best government is the government that governs the least.”
Through these posts i will tell you about my life as an expat and a POW within my own country.
It’s sad, in America those who are actually criminally insane are those who are in power.
At 14 i was expelled from school for self defense and received the same treatment i always got while growing up. Which was being the “bad guy” so they could be the good guys… Around this time of my life i was completely exiled from the family that adopted me.
I was on my own for good…
I went to an auction for my electric company and bought my first truck. Not being able to get my license obviously. Yet i had to still take care of myself and had the woman who was more a mother to me at least help with getting a tag and insurance. Driving one night i got pulled at 15 and received my first ticket. Which wouldn’t allow me to get my license til 18.
Although, since i have always been intelligent enough to find a way. I found a loop hole in the statues of my state and saw that i could get my motorcycle license. Bikes were nothing new to me and had already been riding for over a year. So i bought my first motorcycle at 15.
I had been going through ROTC and was making my way through the military as well.
I had become a POW in my own country before i was even out of ROTC by this deputy with family in my neighborhood. Being harassed by him through the years.
This neighborhood is a strange one… Dirt and greed does things to people…
You ask, how did i become a prisoner of war? Well for the general population, you wouldn’t understand as you’re too conceited and ignorant. But for vets who have come back to america and the innocent who’ve been falsely accused and imprisoned, you’re the ones who will understand.
But i will try to explain………