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nadiya-m · 3 years ago

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(Dont judge before reading the whole writing).

May 18th 2021

What is my worth?

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.

"Please recycle!"

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.

Here I wait.

Nadiya M...

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nadiya-m · 3 years ago

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Dagboekfragment

April 15th, 2021.

Sometimes I feel like being born in the wrong century,. time age or so. It feels strange. I am interested in history ever since and writing as we can learn from the past. We see history unfortunately repeating many times again. There is a new way of war going on can I say that? This one is silent. I don't know what is worse: a loud war or a silent war. One that doesnt leave any battlescar if you survive. But only a battlescar on your soul hidden for any other person to see. Until they get to know you and start to talk.

I still put my faith in journalism. Although I see so many journalists years ago not being independent and free. They would do everything in order to get a name. And were not free to truly write what they wished to write. They had bills to pay. And so their boss would get always his way. I call that indirect censorship.

I still hope one day a new revolution starts in technology. Prevention against manipulation and hacking. Prevention against cyberbullying and more. As they lead to fake news in the end. There is no journalist that in the end wants to find out to have spend time on some racist fake shit can I say that? As many black people suffer from internetbullying and racism online. Even slavery these days is occuring online. Everything is happening online. We need a whole new law and police that functions online. I see a new war almost happening maybe, online. Silently. Weapons made with IT technology. Im afraid these people see life as just a game. Something must have infected their brains.

As I keep on writing in now my virtual dairy to actually myself, I wish myself by this the best for this year. As many want me still to disappear. They hate me. And I still havent found the exact answer why as they always talk indirectly. As if I dont exist already. For years.

I wish I could say sorry to the people who these cyberbullies would talk shit to without my knowing. I cant see anything or find anything weird about me online anymore for years since I had found the livestream of me in 2017. Got kicked out of my parents house one month later.

Now they have an eye on me everyday. Every second now even. I wish I could one time reach out to those who truly thought that they were talking to me.

As these people wish the worst to me for only being alive.

I never made myself go viral or made vlogs meant for youtube or whatever. I kept a videodairy in private and would write a virtual diary as I cant read my handwriting sometimes.

I wish i could do anything about it. But i'm fully occupied.

Until I die

I am afraid.

I dont think these men ever leave me alone. They see me as their property as they make money on me. What can I do? Nothing. Tried to buy a ticket to the states and they took the site down. I could not order a ticket. All the sudden there were no flights available. I see that way of hacking almost as taking a site down as you can do anything with it. Its dangerous. And illegal.

So I accepted my fate. And appreciate every single day as a new day. I see in colour now. Thanks to that voice somehow (top secret rich stuff hz voice no lie lol), echo's of some hero from The States. Thanks to imagination my brain still keeps working fine.

My situation is absolute not fine but why complain? I get tired of complaining. It goes nowhere as no one cares or wants to know or cant give their opinion as they are scared of these men.

So I write poems again.

Keep on smiling.

Ghoosal!

Ramadan 2021 according to my parents.

(Alone at home)

Nadiya M.

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nadiya-m · 3 years ago

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Emotional days. Last week I was broken. And today i am broken again. What is happening to that sexy magazine? I still find the writings OK. But the theme's and covers are diffrent.The subjects. I feel like crying now too. Do I want to live in this timeage where everything seems to be so commericial? Actually yes. I want to know. Is knowlegde now a product? Knowlegde factory buildings I could illustrate in my mind if i want to. I am afraid it goes.this way if no one pays attention. But then again who am I? A drop out. With my hacked phone I am holding cause others try to shut my mouth and my being.

They copy me. So much. So its hard knowing who is truly me. I dont see it as a compliment that they want to be me. Its sick. I find it disgusting and horrible. I am just normal and boring. Oh and weird and crazy in a good way. Actually too serious and mostly quite if I dont get drugged for the hidden cams they hang up in order to manipulate for their own pleasure to get rid of me.

I am alone. And its okay. Well, I am too romantic. I hope one day I will find love. The love of my life. I dont like to rush things. Not even my passion for writing or anything else. If i want to write i just write. If i want to sketch i sketch. And If i seek for love i wait and daydream about how my future love will look like. Or who he will be. I say yes to gentlemans. I dont approach men. In a way that I ask for a quick romance. I hear my mommy saying they do it for me on the web using my pics. Gosh..

I see what time gives me. Time is part of this world. Things go as they should go. If i want it or not. All i can do is to see everything as a lesson. Sometimes i fail. Sometimes i learn why i failed. Mostly i realize none of it all is my fault. And I have many things i can bring to court. But the time is not there for me to do so. As i literally live with them in one building they let me live in(othetwise homeless). They still try everything to make me homeless. And drug me in a way that i should or eat myself or drown myself and record everything. I wake up and realize i am the strongest lady I never thought i would be. I know myself so well that i can easily say when my thoughts arent my own and when i hallucinate because of some extreme burning food that touched only my lips and made me feel ghost like for more than one day. Drugged. In a way that should kill me. And they could command me. For their videos they made as they hang up the whole town with Google NES cams for it. I survived. By being stronger than i ever could imagine. I am made for this. Journalism. But where to start? Ive been never so stalked in my life before as these years.

As if time is my gift. What does time will bring to me? Love? A good writing? A good photograph? New friends in the end?

Time always brings experience. What is the world without? We write about what we see or have seen. Sharing stories. But the digital age made it different. How to cope with being the victim of manipulation?

I could easily write a whole book in just maybe one week i am afraid. If i would only have privacy and not any hacked devices. And a caring someone that puts trust in me. Or for once wants to talk to me as any true honest person should do. Hear both sides of the story and think for yourself at first.

Before 2014 many people saw something in me. I would have a bright future they said as I had talent they said. And then it began.

-Be your own hero and keep your soul protected. -

- a silent voice.

I feel, with that i am happy but i feel like crying, heartbroken, broken, and robbed from my dreams. They even try to rob me from my mind. My everything. Can i share it with someone I can fall in love with? Another soul?

A hopeless dreamer.

Nadiya

May, 2021

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