Tomorrow will the pain start or end let us wish for everything to be alright

Tomorrow is the day, going up or under. I never wished, prayed as much for things to work out right. The whole day the look of my little brother and sisters hopeful faces haunt me but I believe in their hope though I´m terrified inside and that fear is hard to bare so I supress what I feel pretty well for now. I know that tomorrow at 1pm my breath will slow for a moment and my heart will be only beating for them. I hope this judge will act human, that he´s realistic and reasonable I mean how can you punish someone for being innocent, how can you make children the victim without any charges of whatsoever. I don´t know I just know that I hope this nightmare will be over after tomorrow. That the desicion will be our release and espacially the release of my mom. Since she became just a shade of who she used to be, a skinny tearfilled frame of a woman who always sacreficed everything for her children. We are the center of her universe always were always will. That makes it this unfair and hard to swallow for every one. Well I hope every one who reads this will think about my little brother and sister tomorrow at 1 pm and that you all wish for them to return home.

Tears on my sisters face

Last Friday we talked again to my little sister and brother. Their hearts so visually broken that we could watch it in the way they looked in that camera lens. The constant rejecting of tears from both sides of the empty screen since our universe became so filled with sorrow that its impossible to ignore. Its so deep rooted in us, the missing, the haunting memories, the insecure thoughts of when they return home. Its unbelievable how far some people go to keep their wallets filled, throwing small children into a pool of despair just so they can buy more luxury more hollowness and I don´t understand why, why it takes so long for every one to find out what´s going on in Sweden, why it takes so long for them to be released, for our wishes to find them cos we´ve been sitting on the ground for so long, begging constantly for a higher power to interfere.

I looked into my sisters eyes last Friday, almost touched the pain in it. She shared another story about how she´s bullied, how the son of the family hits her and how my little brother stood there unable to do anything about it out of fear. As the son knocked her to the floor he could feel her hopelessness but couldn´t even raise his voice. "I will be blamed for it." His guilt spoke. And of course we understood. We understand everything little hero. I hope you will never feel that any of this is your fault cos it most certainly isn´t. Its never your fault my two beautiful strong sweetnesses. You can´t win from evil but please let it never change who you are, let this hell not define who you have always been. Stay our precious babies, don´t let the sadness make you grow keep playing with barbie dolls and race cars instead of crying and wondering about time. One day you will be in our arms again, we don´t know when but keep hope, strength, believe and faith very close to your hearts and remember "Love will always win."

Help us wish that my little brother and baby sister will be home before Christmas.Lets together go against Sweden and embrace the European and International Law and help us make Sweden understand what they do is illegal Kidnapping of two innocent children only for financial reasons. Lets end this instead of Tomorrow Today.

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My past, my right here right now experience

So started living a little again, my life was on hold for the last months. Being acused, judged and suspected for being a prostitute. It was a crazy mess, but hey that´s life. Its something that haunts you, your core and all the things I am. Did I became more careful? More aware?
or Scared? Never.

They can all go to hell with their accusations, I am innocent, stay innocent and I will never feel guilty or ashamed of who I am and always will be. And that is someone who is proud to wear cloths of this century in this modern age in which will all live in freedom. I´m not going to hide inside of a gray jeans, I´m not going to shut up or lay my pen down, just so I don´t need to worry to be locked up. I don´t know when Sweden became Russia, I don´t know when proof no longer became important, I just know that I was there to see it happen. It was a horrible experience one I never forget but it taught me how unfair life is and that I´m not the only one who gets judged. Discrimination is there in all sorts and forms and I never understood how serious it can be, how it can shape your life. I have always been a artist writing about certain things every one hides away for. Is it wrong to speak the truth? to discover things and learn things about life. I wanna know the parts of the world, the beautiful, the painful, the dark and the light which is always there to guide me home. Life is about learning, watching and understanding but why do we have to go through it? I wonder about a purpose while I don´t even know if life itselfs has one. Pray selfishly like every one for my pain and my families misery to end but its so busy up there from all the crying screams that echo through broken windows that it might take I while to find them. Right now me and my family are stuck in the waiting, waiting for a distand call from the ones who tore my family apart and keep my sweet little sister and courageous small brother far away from us. In a foster house in Sweden they sit still pretending in silence surrounded by selfmade bracelets and fake toys. Forcing frozen smiles on their lips while whispering "I love you mommy." before they fall asleep in their strange beds. Its almost like I hear them calling I spoke the same whispering each and every night in that institution for the 3 months I was locked up in there. If I could have choosen I would have stayed in their place, I would easily have given my freedom for their´s but it was not the call I could have made. I can not describe how much I miss my little sister and brother, how proud I am on them both for keeping faith and for staying this strong. Oh the way my sister talks about christmas and how her defeated eyes accepted already that she´s not gonna spend it with us this year it breaks my heart and the way my little brother asks us what we had for dinner while knowing he´s not able to eat it himself that feeling rests in every bite. To watch fear expressed on their small faces while laughing, laughing so intensely that it hurts to see. It makes you ask life why? why? why? The answer lays somewhere together with the constant doubt of when? when? when will we see them again? We don´t know, and they know it so well that they stopped asking us for a answer? As if they know now that we died each time we heard that question. Its 5 months ago now that I held their hand for the last time, I hugged them both the longest as if I could feel that it would take longer to see them than the others which were also taken. Luckily my bigger brother and sister got released from their institution after 3 months like me. We´re back in Holland now, back home but what is a home when you´re not together. A castle of memories perhaps. I stopped looking at pictures, numbed my mind together with my heart as good as I could. Keep feeling though, feeling everything; the pain in my mothers voice, the wreckless running panic of my father, The constant fighting tears of my sister, The silence of my brother and where am I? I guess I´m avoidiong it, the sorrow I´m too weak to face. I have to stay strong, my mom already cries enough for each one of us. I stay in the distance, putting my thoughts on paper, in music and poetry. It saves me from going in between dramatic waves, I much rather lay on the bottom of the ocean until the day we will all be reunited in our broken sand castle happily starting to rebuild it again.