Posts Tagged ‘bastard’


Who Is Sick Doctor?

 

I have a nest of ants in my head. They try to get out before I open my eyes in the morning. They don’t allow me to move in my bed and get on with my day before they are all out fucking me up over and over again. One of them is you, doc, I know. Fuck you! What do you know doc! What can a person who wasted half of his life only to have two letters in front of his fucking name anyway? You are probably scanning all the definitions, descriptions, patterns of the diseases you tried so hard to memorise, now…aren’t you, doc? Fuck you! I know I don’t matter to you, nobody does…all you care about is those two letters and how they fill your wallet. You, fucking bastard!

 

There is this terrorist whose head I fucked after he had fucked my cunt. I reported him to the police but he is still free, walking around like he is as good as his mother before she was fucked to get pregnant for him. Yes, you expected me to say as good as you, didn’t you, doc…you will have to wait for that for years but you won’t hear that from me doc…you know why, don’t you, doc? You know that I have to be as bastard as you to call you good, don’t you, doc? And you know I am better than you. You know, the bastards around me, made me come to you, don’t you? You know perfectly well what Freud said, why do you still pretend that I am ill? Say what he said if you have a droplet of honour left in you, say it doc!

mad world

 

“Before you go to a psychiatrist and allow him to diagnose depressed, check out how many bastards you have around you.”

“Thank you very much doc! So why don’t you ask me that, doc!”

“You are already telling me about them, please continue.”

“Please continue…you bastards, blood suckers, mother fuckers…you all have this posh accent…guess what doc, it does not impress me no more, in fact I want to fuck language like you do doc.”

“Cool, how are you going to do that?”

“There you go…you don’t really care about me more than you care about your fucking game, do you, doc?  Yes, you don’t. You want to be the only fucker in the world, don’t you, doc…yes you fucking do. You cannot hide it from me, I can see…I can see everything doc…you are dying to see my soft, warm, pink pussy…you are dying to touch it, aren’t you, doc? The thing is doc, you are not man enough. I only fuck those who are good and those who aren’t usually have too little or too big cock…see doc sometimes people don’t really need to seek justice…it is already there…in the nature of everything.

“I have a medium size.”

 

“Medium size cock…million times cocked up head that is ugly and bald…a life that is wasted listening to…anyway enough about you now…you are as pathetic as anyone in the ward. You feel like a God in everything you do, stupid people respect you because you have a degree to say that…when the patient in the ward says that everyone laughs and calls him mad…just because he does not have a fucking degree to say that…you like that don.t you, doc? You like being treated like a God but you know deep inside that you are not. Especially when you lick a beautiful pink cunt…

 

Another one is out of the nest now…another ant. He was a woman trapped in a man’s body. He loved the power of his cock but was unable to handle its responsibilities. He wanted to fuck like a man but loved and protected like a woman. In other words, he was a coward. I cannot call him homosexual because there are some good people who are homosexual, too. He was just a pathetic little parasite who happened to have a cock. Hence, he could do anything to abuse those who did not have it, he thought. No that was not really what he thought because he was too lazy to think…that was what everyone with cock had thought and he happily bought. So, doc, tell me who is sick , tell me who is actually sick doc?

 

 

 

 

 

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Story of a Good Rat

Someone knocked at my door a day after the big confrontation by the pool. It was a soft knock but not hesitant. I knew there was a woman behind the door but I still looked through the eye hole. It was her, standing there with her thoughtful even worried eyes which have almost lost their sparks. She was known as a rat, rat Rezzan, in the neighbourhood but I did not believe that. So I opened the door with a big sincere smile.

She was so thin as if she had just escaped from a famine. It hurt me to look at her, I was overwhelmed by the river of my own compassion. There was an untold tragedy standing by me, all my cells could sense that. She smiled in her red shorts and white t-shirt. Her arms were thin and had scars of hard work…hard work that had lasted too long. Her legs were thin, too.

“Please sit,” I said and showed her the creamy white sofa in the living room and asked: “What would you like to drink?”

She smiled and looked into my eyes that were searching warmth and understanding in mine. She wanted to know how welcomed she was and I smiled wider to let her know that she was very very welcome like she was never before.

“Thank you very much, I really don’t want to drink anything. I have come to talk,” said she as she walked towards the creamy white sofa. She sat and crossed her legs, she was not more than forty five kilogram. I sat next to her.

goodnees

“I was having a breakfast but I could not,” said she and she looked concerned.

“Why?” I asked.

“I thought I had to tell you not to worry if two women from last night knock on your door in this morning,” she replied.

“Why do they want to do that? I told them all I knew about him…it is their job to think how he could harm them,” I said.

“No, no…it is not like that…this is  now matter of life and death…none of us slept after you had left last night…everybody was so devastated…they all feel unsafe now.Did you think that was the end?”

“Yes, was it not?”

“No, it was the beginning…that man is going to have to leave this place…people will not stop until they discover the whole truth,” said she.

“I told the truth,” I replied.

“No…they know you know more,” said she.

“No, I don’t…I told them what I knew,” I said.

“They want to know more!” said she as she opened her eyes wide and stood up.

“Well, I don’t know more,” said I and stood up, catching a little bit of her panic.

“They think you know…tell them what you know…there is no way back…everything changed when you talked last night,” said she and walked towards the door in a secretive manner.

“I see,” said I and walked her to the door.

“I must go, don’t be surprised when they come…and they are not bad people…they all have your back…they don’t want anyone bad to live in this neighbourhood…he has to go to hell, that man- heartless paedophile,” whispered she, holding the door handle, her eyes hardly contained her inner turmoil and her little body.

“Okay, thank you,” said I in the same secretive manner. Well I was already surprised, asking myself whether she did not want to let those women to taste sweetness of surprising even shocking me by their visit but she wanted to do it instead or whether she came here just because she could not help being a rat. I was confused but I knew she was not a bad rat, she, too, was a soldier of goodness on earth.

“I am going now, take care…yeah?” said she and walked out softly. She climbed down the purple stairs quietly, looked back and smiled once again before she disappeared. I waved at her, wondering what kind of hell’s door I had opened last night.

I closed the door, wondering what I was going to hear from the other two women who had attacked me the night before. I could hear bells of my stomach, my head was like an ant nest where billions of ants lived with no rest and it was hard for me to keep my eyes open. My phone rang. I walked towards the table and looked. It was my ex next door whom I never talked to due to an unbridgeable gap between us. I had blocked her number straight after we met for the first time but it seemed like what I knew had made her restless, too…just like the ants in my head. I employed one of the ants in my head to talk to her before picking my phone. It was a collective issue after all…and it was not her, she did not dare talk.

Two women came following that phone call and went with no event despite the great disappointment of their discovery. They looked more shocked than they did the night before. And they did not blame me for telling the truth but they were still not sure what to do about him, woman hater paedophile whom they used to respect and sought comfort like their granddad. What they were going to do was going to determine my location and reputation, too. It was a risk that I took but I was never going to regret it. The bigger risk was to become a close friend with such a man in order to discover the truth. The biggest risk was to allow him to think and believe that one day he was going to be in my bed despite his psychopathic traits and old age. Men are mad like that. They really believe that they can do anything they want in life, the world is their playground. Hence hardly a few of them truly grow up. Everyone was learning a lot from what happened and was going to learn more what was going to happen.

Rezzan came back again next morning.

“You didn’t sleep, did you?” said she. I told you she was a good rat. She was wearing a green t-shirt. Her short, thick, curly hair had some grey in the front.

“No, not really,” I replied, thinking about the real reason of her regular morning visits.

“You should have seen how men reacted…they all met again last night…they will kick this paedophile bastard out of this place by law…you will see they will do that. This is not a joke…this is our honour…he has to go,” said she as she walked towards the creamy white sofa before I offered. I was a little surprised to see how deeply they believed what I said without knowing me so well. I hardly communicated with them but I always wished them well.

“Oh my God!” I exclaimed quietly. Only psychopaths could exclaim loudly in this place. The walls were too thin to give anyone sense of a proper privacy. We had so many issues that violated our privacy and reported it to young rich landlord who listened to us insensibly and probably laughed out loud after hanging up the phone.

“Yes, I think they were already suspicious of him somehow but they just could not put their finger on it,” said she in her own secretive way when I sat next to her on creamy white sofa.

“Of course they were…how couldn’t they be? This man was always drunk…the only reason why people kept quiet was because of his age,his money…and-and he was so good at lying…and he bullied the weak ones when they did not believe him…and I think people needed someone to care for them, someone older with wisdom and compassion…he pretended to have and offered them to women to make his way to their beds,”

“Once, he shouted at me like a little child and said: ‘You are a tenant here, you don’t even own an inch of a land, know your place and keep quiet!’” she explained, her lips trembled and she was in tears. I wanted to see that old paedophile hanged or drowned in the middle of the pool where he had secret orgasms by watching little girls and women in their bikinis, took their pictures, as her tears rolled down on her bony cheeks covered with dry and wrinkled thin skin. She was a forty-nine years old divorcee with no kid of her own. And he knew that…but that was before I exposed him. All his fantasies to have a young lover like me while harassing every other woman and little girls as an old, respectable superintendent of two blocks of apartment, all his power over people, all the joy he used to get from abusing the house keeping staff died in one night. I felt proud of myself for the first time after that night.

“So nobody stood by you back then?” I asked.

“No, they uttered no word…I know why they did that…they did that because I am a woman who does not depend on a man…and a woman with no man worth nothing in their heads,” said she.

“It must be so dark in their heads,” I said.

“It is dark everywhere in this land…the Sun comes and goes but it is still dark here,” said Rezzan in tears. I knew she was a good rat in search of love…