oh, well, not a great moment in domestic affairs. He sorta understood. Hey ho, these things have their own momentum and rhythm. nothing you can do. Annnywayyyy..... here we are. I hope the world is spinning on it's axis just fine for you. I'm watching Tod Brownings' Freaks. The little closed community of freaks in this film reminds me uncannily of the little closed community i was part of. We were drawn together by necessity. No-one was really your friend, all we had in common was need, greed nd a deep seated awareness and unease that we didn't really belong amongst the "non us"
The "non us" were ppl with jobs, steady cash and the harmonic hum of safe suburban life. Our world wz punctuated by violence, noise, drug fuckedness, vicious cunts and fuckery of all kinds. We each had our speciality. Being a minor and having a relatively clean record, and having a brain cell, i could get away with less hard core stuff. I never burgled a house, i preferred the instant gratification of bag snatch cash fresh from the wallet. I was fast on my feet and had no conscience. Wham Bam Thank you Ma'am. Just the cash Miss.
Men required less extreme persuasion to part with their funds. Being underage (14-18 were my years of infamy) i just had to bend over and or blow em. In case you're wondering, Yep, it's illegal to sell young boys to perverted old shitsticks, but hey ho, the code is 18. If a pimp tells you they have an 18 year old on the premises, they're telling you they have a kiddie for sale.
Anyway, one particular guy i knew always stays in my mind. He just recently got out of jail. He's a cunt. I stayed on terms with him cuz 1. he wz a dependable dealer 2. You didn't want to get on his bad side 3. you couldn't avoid the cunt. This cunt, of Italian - Croation descent, was completely useless as a crim. He couldn't rack, couldn't rob, couldn't do fuck all. Just a useless prick. Women loved him, he was gym pumped, handsome, but for some reason unknown to me, he didn't/couldn't fuck. I know cuz I was n still am friends with his wife, who is now 40 something, and still after all these years, desperate for a fuck from her old man.
The only vaguely interesting thing about this loser cunt, was that he was (according to his own little rules of ethics n logic), a Jesus Freak. He was a freak for Jesus. He used to pray to God before his little forays into other ppl's houses for a safe and prosperous return. On his knees, he made his fellow fucktards kneel down in a circle and pray to Jesus. As discussed in a prior post, Jesus loves you, even if you are a cunt. And like most airhead useless cunts of his ilk, he was regularly a guest of Her Majesty's.
I went with his wife once to visit him. Predictably, it turned into quite a bitch fest - Wifey: "I'm stuck here with the fuckin' kids, there's no fucking money, you useless bastard, you're in here for 8 years u retarded idiot, whadd'm i gnna do now? blah blah blah..." He, with all the conviction and innocence of a believer told her "God's forgiven me, why can't you?" Why not indeed... ?
And so, that was life, i stayed as stoned as possible. if i could, i worked on the street, that way, i kept everything i made, it could be dangerous tho, and if i got moved on by the cops, I worked in brothels, which was a fucking nightmare. If you're underage and a drug addict, the owners will exploit you mercilessly. What are you gnna do about it? Clients will do whatever the fuck they want. All you absolutely had to do was blow 'em and let 'em fuck you. Anything else was classed as an extra and it (ostensibly) had to be with your consent and he had to pay you extra. Whether you split that money with the brothel operator depended on how the place was run. Well, you know, if you're smacked up to the eyeballs, that fist is going up your ass whether you like it or not. there's nothing you can do about it except put up with the pain and fucking ache for days after.
Going back home was never an option. Topping myself was always on my mind. I should have done it, as things turned out, it wouldn't have made much difference.
When i turned 18, i legally came of age to inherit my share of my father's estate. it was to paid to me in a lump sum or in installments at Cunta's discretion. i had to beg n plead and take legal action before she gave me a cent. I was in a bad way. I wanted to leave the brothel i wz working for, being a teenager, i wz a human money making machine for them. I wz shooting up at least 3 times a day at this point. They said I owed them money advanced to me for drugs. That wz bullshit. I made them thousands of pounds. i never had to get money off them. they told me if I left owing them money, my life wouldn't be worth living. It wasn't anyway, but hey ho, i know these ppl, and their version of life not worth living wz nothing i ever wanted to experience. So, my then boyfriend Kyle came up with the money (I paid him back every penny), I finally got my monthly payment from Cunta (my mama) and i dried out as best i could. i enrolled into university, and the week I received my first essay back with High Distinction, I was diagnosed with cancer. Just on ethical reasons alone, I wouldn't accept treatment, but it wasn't all noble, a part of me thought, "you know what? there's worse things than cancer. I really don't fucking care. I don't trust you or anyone alive to come near me. fuck off all of you, it's too late to expect me to care".
This kind of emotional hissy fit soon passes. The reason why, 6 years later, I still decline treatment, is that I don't believe in vivisection. I'm a vegan. Even if I could somehow squeeze it past my conscience, I still wouldn't do it. For most of my life, I've compromised myself, put up with situations and ppl that disgusted me. You can't even begin to understand so don't pretend to. I've said yes to things and men that made my skin crawl. I've had to surrender every boundary, switch off every personal impulse and feeling so I could endure what was happening to me. My conscience, my inner space is completely my own. I know that there are ppl who don't understand, don't accept my reasons for declining treatment as valid. I don't care. This little shred of personality is the one thing I'm not giving up. The rest of my self identity is vague and nebulous, am I gay or am I, as suggested by a well meaning female friend "just conditioned to it"? who knows. My body doesn't really belong to me, my headspace doesn't really belong to me, they're both crowded with n populated by using cunts for whom I didn't exist as a human being. Each and every one of those disgusting bastards still colonizes my body and my mind. They're always there, I still feel them n hear them and it makes me want to die, it makes me hate myself.
But my conscience, my belief long ago realised by Schopenhauer that "compassion is the basis of all morality", along with my belief that the gift of life obligates us to relieve suffering and care for the suffering, this is the frontier I'm surrendering to no one. Cancer research is particularly horrific, animals suffer horrendously. I'd rather be dead than benefit from their misery.
Eventually, Cunta on learning the kind of person I was, became so disgusted that she paid out my inheritance and gave me some old family property which i later sold, on the proviso i have no further contact with the family. Suits me.
What now? what can be learnt from this? 1. Don't get into strange mens' cars at 14. 2. Whoever you are, whatever happens to you in life, wherever you go, take care of your health, cuz once it goes, that's the start of your nightmare. 3. Don't trust anyone.
i need time to myself. I'm exhausted, the presence of other ppl exhausts me. I need to be alone. My anxiety levels remain thru the roof. I don't trust ppl. I wish I could tell you some other things, funny stuff, there were some hysterically funny moments, I'll include this one briefly: once after X (the aformentioned Jesus freak burglar/dealer) managed to fence some stuff he'd stolen, we went to a friend's hotel room (roughly 5 of us) to shoot up. it was customary for X to start ranting about Jesus and Damnation after every bit of illegal wheeling and dealing, I think it acted as some kind of catharsis, like a guilt cleansing ritual for him. He was ranting, and the other three, being not quite as religious, were telling him to shut the fuck up, I just wanted my hit, and I was laughing, finally, infuriated he grabbed me by my shoulders, stuck his face right in mine and screamed "I KNOW FOR A FACT YOU'RE GOING TO HELL!!!" Quite.
Cheerz n Luv
Stay safe
Fudge xo
