About Wanda The Wicked 1

Wanda Schmidt, now Blackwinter, a name I carry with pride and honor.

I was born in 1990 to a German father and a French mother who came to Canada about a year before I entered the world and they brought my Grandfather along also. I have Dual Citizenship between USA and Canada, and that makes life rather Interesting at times.

What follows isn’t the ‘poor me’ sap-song of a ‘victim’.

It’s the defiant Roar of The Victor.

I am NOT a ‘nice’ person. I am NOT a ‘normal’ person. I come from a background steeped solidly in Nazism and cruelty, neglect, and violence.

And that was before I stormed out and away from home in the middle of the night, mid-winter, with only what I was wearing at the moment and a light jacket.

My home-life was one of minimal schooling, as Father and Grandfather wouldn’t have me ‘contaminated’ by ‘weak, liberal nonsense’.  So, what education I did get came from my Mother, whom I remember little of, but I remember her fondly.

I grew up barely literate, and exposed to pretty much zero television aside from tapes and material relating to ‘The Glories of Your Fatherland’. That means Nazi Germany, The Reich.

Grandfather was in WW2, and a hardcore, down-to-the-bones-of-the-soul Believer in the Reich and the State, as well as in Hitler and his inner circle. He was SS before moving up to Gestapo, and very close to (but not in) Hitler’s Circle which he equated to being at the feet of God. My Father lived in Awe of my Grandfather, a 100% 2nd generation die-hard Nazi, and an absolute Monster, second only to my Grandfather.

I was raised Nazi, that doesn’t mean I am one, not do I have any liking or tolerance for Nazism.

But I KNOW it whn I see it, and there’s no fooling me on that point ever.

My Father, when I was 5 or 6, effectively murdered my Mother. She’d slipped in the bathroom, hitting her head on the corner of the counter, I had heard it, found her, and sought out my Father and Grandfather for help. I remember watching my Father just standing there, drinking his whisky, smirking and watching her die. About 10 minutes after she had her last breath, that is when he called for help, and after her body was taken away I remember what my Grandfather told me.

“Your Mother is dead, forget her.”

In time, some years later, my Grandfather found his own time running out and although his body was failing as his heart was giving out, he was still razor-sharp mentally. I spent a lot of time with that dying old man, haring about his life and the Glorious Reich over and over. The day he died, it was morning, bright, clear, beautiful and he died with barely a whisper. My Father, showed no emotion, and drank far less than he usually did, and such was NEVER good. With  alcohol, he could be passingly decent…sober, he was an absolute Monster.

That night, he started on me, my failures and how I was useless to my heritage in every way. At 13, I was learning to stand up for myself and had already figured out for myself that if attacked, I should counter-attack. We argued, and I called him out on his killing of my Mother, then accused him of failing to save my Grandfather by ignoring some simple tricks of health I’d heard about, but had withheld myslf. Aspirin and Co-nzyme Q12, for cases of congestive heart failure. I rubbed it in, I wanted him to KNOW that I had done what I’d done–without even lifting a finger, same as he had with my Mother. A death for a death.

When he attacked, I dodged, and got ahold of his whisky bottle, and put it to the side of his head with all the force I could without sacrificing accuracy, just as Grandfather had taught me regarding fighting. Itook off immediately, with just what I was wearing, and a jacket snatched on the way out. I wasn’t ‘afraid’, I was Angry, and I left because I refused to have anything more to do with him, my heritage, and was taking my own life into my hands. I knew it would be damned risky out on the streets, alone, and I knew I was making a good decision in taking the course I was rather than staying in my Father’s household.

When I say I was ‘angry’, I don’t mean ‘temper tantrum’. I mean, I intended to kill my Father, and I would have gone back to make sure that bastard was dead/finish the job but I’d left my keys inside and the door had locked behind me.

13 years old, on the streets, mid-winter in Canada with nothing. I not only survived, I thrived after adapting to my new environment because I wasn’t stupid and listened to my Instincts and Intuition. I learned where ‘good’ dumpsters were. Made friends, and lost friends to bad drugs, bad food, the cold, and peopl who consider the Homeless to be non-Human debris suitable only for cruel games ending in their deaths. I also unfailingly, from the start, met my new environment with absolute ruthlessness. I watched people I knew and didn’t know incinerate their lives and potential on hard drugs, and stayed wll away from that stuff because I was more interested in Living than escaping for a few hours. I confined my recreationals to pot from a friend who grew it Organically and I knew was Pure as well as the odd bottle of whisky.

I worked, collecting cans, cashing them in, saving my $$. If somone attacked me, I’d strip them bare after taking them down. I made knives from scrap metal, honed as sharp as possible on stones that suited the job. I became an expert at Urban Survival–I had to, the shelters were always full and I had NO interest in submitting as a ‘victim’. And I saw NO need, as the more I learned, the more my skills evolved, I realized that I was Free and owed not a damned thing to anyone, just as the world owed me nothing.

I would Live, or Die, on MY terms alone and NO one else’s.

I learned about the criminal underworld, I learned about ‘muslims’ and how they Lie and what they’re really like despite what the media would have people believe. I learned very quickly how to deal with them as I’d been raised in something very similar, and in all the years in and among them day-to-day, I never encountered one that could in any way be called ‘decent’. I was nearly another statistic at 14 of the pedophile-prostitution rings that operate with impunity, and if not for friends who risked their lives to track me down and save me, I’d have ended my life as a disposable plaything in some foreign izlamic hellhole of a ‘nation’.

I saved, worked at can collecting, took care of myself as best I could and avoided drugs because I could SEE what they did to people and I knew that with the blunting of my mind–I’d end up dead. A whisky now and then, some pot occasionally when I could be safe enough to enjoy it and not have to worry about safety was the limit of my indulgences. Whisky was a universal pain-killer/disinfectant for me actually. I’d use it to clean cuts and wipe down plates and my knife blades befor eating. ONE bout of food poisoning was enough to Learn from. I made my way into the underworld deeper and deeper and found I belonged and Earned respect. I started my own practice as a Dominatrix out of a cruddy one bedroom, and from there, moved up, slowly, but steadily. I kept my Virginity until I met the man I wanted to marry at age 20, and when I lost him to cancer, I learned finally just how short Life is, and cruel.

There’s a lot I will not say, except to friends and family. But I will say this, I bought my eventual House 100% outright as well as my car, and had a very well-built and thriving practice as a Domme, and in the underworld. I taught myself to read and write using facilities found in my laptop, like spellcheck and the auditory features for the Blind to learn how to pronounce words.

But I have never sold or been involved with those drugs that burn people out, and wouldn’t tolerate labs making them in my areas, and I didn’t care who was backing them. I’d seen how truly horrific they are in their effects and had been with more than a few pople I liked as they died from them, beyond any ability to help.

I managed to travl the world somewhat, UK, Sweden, France, Germany, Spain, Austria,and fell in love with Japan and Israel. I have seen what’s actually happening with the izlam invasion in Europe myself, and there’s a vast amount the media either don’t know–or aren’t telling out of fear of being seen as ‘racist’ or ‘not politically correct’.

Now, I am a member of the family of a Man I have known for a long time, the best friend, ‘brother’, of the Man I loved. A polygamous household, and unabashedly Pagan, Ancient Pagan and not ‘new age’, but blended with his Native heritage. I am loved, and finally have a Family, complete with 5 cats and one dog…which is all I have ever wanted.

A Family, to love and protect.

I have seen and lived in the WORST of the dark side of ‘society’, and Thrived in it. That is my world, where I come from. I am not ‘prey’, and I am not a ‘victim’. I am one of ‘those’ people most fear, even police–and for some Very good reasons. Society turned it’s back on me, abandoned it’s ‘social responsbility’ to me, and I never asked for a damned thing from society, thus it will NOT ask anything of me.

Thus, I turn my back on society and ‘social responsibility’ and all that rotted vileness you ‘normal’ folks live in so comfy-cozily. I pay NO taxes, and I have nothing to give to ‘society’ because I do not yield to Extortion, and I never will, and have demonstrated to some why it is ‘Unwise’ to pursue me. I do not fear cops, SWAT, or such thugs…because I have faced them all before, and humbled them severely and traumatically.

I focus on my Friends and my Family. To me, that is all that matters, ahead of any and all other factors or considerations.

I am a Wolf, from a dark world of Wolves, Jackals, and Hyenas. And we have no fear of sheep, no matter how many there are. And most of you are sheep…blindly following your media, following the party Line, your loyalties and emotions orchestrated masterfully in a symphony of hatred by mainstream media and your ‘governments’.

I lived outside all that, but always watched and studied your world from that unique vantage point, and while I have no ill-will nor contempt for ‘normal’ people (I actually like normal people) it is Heartening to see that Humanity is finally Waking Up to it’s true enemies that seek to enslave it, shedding the sheepskins and finding their fangs again.

This is a Glimpse of who I am, what I am, and where I come from. ..a glimpse, that’s all. If you think you ‘know’ me just from reading this, that’s the same as stating you know the total geography of Earth from studying your back yard.

Remember that.

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