“even those who know me best, know there is no knowing me without first knowing you.” Nikohl Vandel.

When first sharing that thought out loud, I thought, I am writing this to someone who is too young for his age, for me to have to tell him that.

Realizing that knowing, which comes from the ability to separate ‘what is You’ and ‘what is Me’ and ‘what is Us,” is a gift of having been found guilty of being The Criminal Mind amongst innocents.

The crimes of conspiracy and false imprisonment,  defined through another human’s deprivation of a kind I’ll never natively understand, are the one’s I was born guilty of in this random game of life.

So, I set off to find out why I was born guilty of my crimes. I am discovering that the deviant use of an intention so pure must be honored in kind for a reality to show this life is worth living.

This is one of my versions of a tale so twisted it takes intimate knowledge to ever really know The Truth if one just does not trust themselves.

The story of Zazaa and NikiV is part of a typical post traumatic recovery of a very ordinary suburban housewife; a soccer mom who happened to wake up in a holding cel in Las Vegas (baby!).

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