Extra photos

This is just an info dump and photo dump page. This is a disorganised page with extra images. There is a lot of fluff in this one. Especially in the middle, but if you scroll past the fluff you might find a few pictures you haven’t seen. I still need to do an hard edit of this page. There is some useful information and interesting stories if you scroll. About being covered in filth, but still expected to TTC. She still wanted to get pregnant, even though I was crippled, sick and covered in filth.

Below: January 19th 2008.

Above: Paul, Amanda, David, Vivian (Paul’s girlfriend, who later became his wife and the mother of his two youngest children).

Below: Natasha, Daryl, Amanda, David Solt. Natasha and Daryl are married and have one daughter. Daryl is her father and used to be an alcoholic, and later became an Anglican minister. Natasha is Russian and immigrated here from Kazakhstan. She has a PhD in psychology and works in education. She is Amanda’s stepmother. I liked them both.

Age of about 14ish^

Above: in a suit getting ready for the high school ball in final year of high school^

So young! Haha, normal second hand suit. No rented tuxedo for me!

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Ps: Worst part was on the far side.

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I think this picture is in Raine Street^

 just after I got out of the police van.

See how the shoulders are pulled back and down hard? J have to do that all day, just to survive. Because there is a strong pull on my body from the inside (muscles such as the iliopsoas) and also from the lats.

Back yard of 17 Princeton road, 2023/2024. A better version in my other website. Higher resolution.

^ 5 weka road in my early twenties

Sick as a dog in that one^ it was at my nanas house.

Wedding pictures above and below. We got married young. We were weirdly religious. Meh, such is life.

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Below, 73 Hutt Road, Petone, after coming back from Auckland. It is the least bad picture I could find/create.

One more photo:

Awful picture just below. I can’t really walk properly the time. And even walking on the concrete was difficult and unpleasant. The “integrity” of my feet just isn’t there. I still hadn’t built up enough strength with mini squats. It was hell at the time. I had been doing large numbers of mini squats at around the time, but due to the thing they had clamping my muscles down and my torso down 24/7, it didn’t really take effect.

This was taken in Palmerston North (before Auckland). A lot of sleep deprivation and too much sun. That was at the pharmacy to get passport photos, and it was after a couple of difficult nights. I am 36 in these photos. I need 

Photos 

Dad and Vivian Wei-Solt, dad’s wife. And their two kids when little. I think she was about 29 when they first got together.

Amanda and me on our honeymoon in Australia, then family (me, mum, Ben, Andrew, and an extra (Jill)

I think I was about 22 in this picture. I had been unwell for about two years. Was pretty skinny too. My weight was a serious issue back then. Sorry, it’s not a very good photo. I will try to find better ones! I was third from left, and Amanda fourth. I was the one with too much hair.

That was Christmas holidays at my grandparents house. It might have been Boxing Day. I think that it was Boxing Day in the back garden of my Grandma and Grandpa’s  home in Karori Wellington. 27 Campbell street. They didn’t want to do a thing in Christmas itself. So we would beet within two days of Christmas. I think that Grandma, Grandpa and Andy and Anne went to Christmas with Anne’s family. Andy is kind of the favourite son, given that he was successful career wise (two degrees, made money as a currency trader, worked in parliamentary research for the national party, was then in Wellington council as an elected member for 27 years, mayor for one term, and now a member of parliament working for the NZ first party). Inside baseball here: but Paul and Andy used to be best friends, or something like that, before my father started dating Andy’s sister, and married her. My father then became very close friends with Uncle Jonathan. My mother’s other brother.

Here are Amanda and Jenna, when really young. Amanda and Jenna were friends from childhood? I think that they may have been childhood best friends? Jenna’s mother is animator smoking hippie. Or something? Her father drank too much and was (allegedly) violent. Jenna later became a flatmate of ours. I first met Jenna at age 15, when over at Amanda’s house.

Here I am at age 19 in the apartment on Hansen Street, in Newtown. Making a roast chicken. We lived in the apartment after Amanda and I got married. We were university students at the time. We moved back to Kapiti after someone set our car on fire. Also, there was construction and roadworks going on all the time. Roadworks until late at night on Adelaide road, and construction in the apartment next door starting early every morning. 

The munchkin

I hid the rest at the bottom of the page. Much of the rest of this page is just a photo dump. Especially photos from a photo book written by my grandfather shortly before his death. Which until recently was the best source of photos I could find!

 Photos 

Vivian Wei-Solt, Chinese, dad’s wife. And their two kids when little. I think she was about 29 when they first got together. (That is not Tomoe)

Amanda and me on our honeymoon in Australia, then family (me, mum, Ben, Andrew, and an extra (Jill)

Above: some of the sharp objects I stood on while at 17 Princeton road.

Just a couple of examples, don’t read too much into it.

This is what I mean by “covered in dead skin”. This is a recent photo (maybe September 2025). 

This is what I mean by “covered in filth”, it is also a recent photo. See below.

By the way, just as an aside, for those 6 years totally crippled in 17 Princeton Road, Amanda insisted that she still wanted babies. And therefore we should keep on “trying” to have kids. I was covered in filth, because I couldn’t wash. And was skin, because I couldn’t wash. And my scalp was covered in grime as well. She wanted kids. She was unable to get pregnant for 4-5 years. She then asked for a sperm sample to have it tested (for motility and sperm health etc), which they then had tested. My sperm was healthy. So the issue was with her. She also had some surgery to correct issues with her lady parts. As ovarian adhesion, if I remember correctly (I might actually be misremembering!).

She was infertile. Seriously. And then she got IVF using my sperm, and brynns egg. Without my consent (neither verbally or in writing). Not did the fertility clinic receive my signature approving the process (her “girlfriend’s”eggs, my sperm). The moment she became pregnant, her entire demeanour and way of treating me changed, and she changed who she was. And wanted to drive me out. I also discovered that she had encouraged a situation by which I was to be kept unwell and isolated. Everything about our existence and life was fake.

I was covered in filth and dead skin, always.

I think this picture is in Raine Street^

 just after I got out of the police van.

See how the shoulders are pulled back and down hard? J have to do that all day, just to survive. Because there is a strong pull on my body from the inside (muscles such as the iliopsoas) and also from the lats.

Wedding pictures above and below. We got married young. We were weirdly religious. Meh, such is life.

Below is high school ball in my final year of high school.

The high school ball ^

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Below, 73 Hutt Road, Petone, after coming back from Auckland. It is the least bad picture I could find/create.

One more photo:

Awful picture just below. I can’t really walk properlyat the time. And even walking on the concrete was difficult and unpleasant. The “integrity” of my feet just isn’t there. I still hadn’t built up enough strength with mini squats. It was hell at the time. I had been doing large numbers of mini squats at around the time, but due to the thing they had clamping my muscles down and my torso down 24/7, it didn’t really take effect.

This was taken in Palmerston North. A lot of sleep deprivation and too much sun. I am 36 in these photos.

Here I am in Paris Airport. It’s 2007, and I’m as sick as a dog. I want to go home, or at least to rest. I’m exhausted and miserable. I just finished final high school exams a couple months ago.

Above: Venice I think, or Italy in general. I’m not well for the whole trip.

Above: Barcelona with Matthew, 2007. Gaudi park. Not how my posture/form/shape or back are affected? By the electronic abrades?

Above: Italy, 2007. Acting like a derp.

Above: France 2006. Please notice how my posture is a little compressed. I was quite unwell at the time. That is why I am including these photos.

Three photos above: Europe trip 2006/2007. I was unwell. Sick as a dog. Much of it was electromagnetic. There were so many “electronic abrades”. And my digestion and brain weren’t working. And my torso was compressed, not that I knew it or understood it. And I couldn’t sleep, and I was always thirsty, and my mouth always dry. Some of it was that my mother tried to cause me a ton of fatigue by moving us from location to location, reducing quantity of sleep. It was kind of a turning point in my life. It was on this trip with my mother that my health got destroyed. And then I was never well or healthy again - they kept me sick by a variety of means from then on. It also placed a lot of strain on our relationship (she didn’t believe that I was unwell). More to the story, but for the sake of brevity, I’ll leave it there.

He’s as sick as a dog here. It’s Europe. Travelling around, new place every couple of days usually. Backpacking. Exhausted 😩 .

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My mother wedding ^ see how badly my posture is locked down by my own muscles.

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More random stuff:

Mostly of me sick, but one of Lily.

[FWIW, I have an uncle in parliament. And he used to be mayor (2019-2022) of Wellington, the capital of New Zealand. Andy Foster is now a member of parliament, and part of the ruling coalition government.]

By the way…. The wellington district court was modified for me. In preparation for my showing up. They modified the floor, to make it bumpy and uneven. Simply to bother and harm me. This is the court house in the city that Andy was mayor. And was previously on the council (that is a full time job by the way, being in the council) for 27 years.

I think I was about 22 in this picture. I had been unwell for about two years. Was pretty skinny too. My weight was a serious issue back then. Sorry, it’s not a very good photo. I will try to find better ones! I was third from left, and Amanda fourth. I was the one with too much hair.

That was Christmas holidays at my grandparents house. It might have been Boxing Day. I think that it was Boxing Day in the back garden of my Grandma and Grandpa’s  home in Karori Wellington. 27 Campbell street. They didn’t want to do a thing in Christmas itself. So we would beet within two days of Christmas. I think that Grandma, Grandpa and Andy and Anne went to Christmas with Anne’s family. Andy is kind of the favourite son, given that he was successful career wise (two degrees, made money as a currency trader, worked in parliamentary research for the national party, was then in Wellington council as an elected member for 27 years, mayor for one term, and now a member of parliament working for the NZ first party). Inside baseball here: but Paul and Andy used to be best friends, or something like that, before my father started dating Andy’s sister, and married her. My father then became very close friends with Uncle Jonathan. My mother’s other brother.

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^ 5 weka road in my early twenties. My back looks weird.

Sick as a dog in that one^ it was at my nanas house. Amanda and I lived there in late 2007 and early 2008. Look at my back.

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Above: some of the sharp objects I stood on while at 17 Princeton road. I actually bled a fair bit from the one on the left. It’s a sharp piece of metal embedded in plastic (kind of like a razor blade).

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This is what I mean by “covered in dead skin”. This is a recent photo (maybe September 2025). One above, one below.

Below: This is what I mean by “covered in filth”, it is also a recent photo. See below.

By the way, just as an aside, for those 5 years totally crippled in 17 Princeton Road, Amanda insisted that she still wanted babies. And therefore we should keep on “trying” to have kids. I was covered in filth, because I couldn’t wash. And was skin, because I couldn’t wash. And my scalp was covered in grime as well. She wanted kids. She was unable to get pregnant for 4-5 years. She then asked for a sperm sample to have it tested (for motility and sperm health etc), which they then had tested. My sperm was healthy. So the issue was with her. She also had some surgery to correct issues with her lady parts. As ovarian adhesion, if I remember correctly (I might actually be misremembering!). I didn’t really want kids. I didn’t think that we could afford them, and I didn’t think she would be a good mother. And I wanted to leave. But she kind of had a captive audience.

She was infertile. Seriously. And then she got IVF using my sperm, and brynns egg. Without my consent (neither verbally or in writing). Not did the fertility clinic receive my signature approving the process (her “girlfriend’s”eggs, my sperm). The moment she became pregnant, her entire demeanour and way of treating me changed, and she changed who she was. And wanted to drive me out. I also discovered that she had encouraged a situation by which I was to be kept unwell and isolated. Everything about our existence and life was fake.

I was covered in filth and dead skin, always. I went 6-7 years without showering once. But she still wanted children. Funded by China. Zzzzz.

A repeat of a picture of how I looked once I got out of that place. I actually have more photos. But they are in my broken phone. Which they ordered me to break.

Here I am with my mother in this photo. Paris airport I think.