Posts Tagged ‘Mohammed’


It was full moon and I reported all my ex-lovers to the police. Yes, I did…I did…I did…Oh God…I did…I don’t know why I did it but it felt so good…so empowering…it felt like I fucked them better than they fucked me at least once…but I wanted to kill some of them or maybe I already killed all of them…

And then I sat down and thought…about what else I could remember about them…I wanted to know more about their dark and dirty side…I wanted to report them again…I don’t know why I wanted that…It was like I had swallowed a dragon and it was now uncontrollable… telling me to fuck all the fuckers… all the fuckers who secretly thought that they were more important than me…because of their big muscles…and their secret weapon they had between their legs.

I was confused for years…especially after I had my first fuck…I asked myself how can a cock be used for love if it is mostly used for revenge, anger, hatred and domination…How can a man like Bruce Willis, who supposedly expressed his love saying that he wanted to fuck his lover while in reality he was only horny, filled with semen not with love. What a smelly rottenness covered with a masculine smile…what a cocky way of degradation of love and women…what a subtle suppression…Yes it began with him…Willis started it…and then misogynistic comedians  with little dicks continued…

full-moon-dragon

And one day I came to conclusion that no man actually used their cocks for love…they used it to feel man…to feel man meant to feel superior to them…to the society that was formed by them, empowered them, entertained only them, privileged only them unless you are the Queen Elizabeth…And then I began thinking about the weapons I could use not to wound or kill the cocks but trivialize them…I discovered that some fellow women thought that they could use their kids for that…I sighed and wanted to remove their uteruse immediately…they were just dumb and lazy…well, yes they were…not only that…they were not one or two or three…they were many…

Why do I still think about them…aren’t they all so small…with little light in their mind which is only enough to show them what they have between their legs…I want to report the guy, who wrote the script of the movie where Bruce Willis replaced love with fuck in millions of people’s minds, who produced that movie,to the police …I want to report Mohammed, Schopenhauer, Nietzsche to the police of the Hell. Yes, I know they are in the hell…I can feel it…Oh I also feel the dragon that reminds me of all that…

“Play dumb, discover dirty secrets of more men and report them if you cannot fuck them!” shouts he.

“No, that is not so smart…I cannot play dumb in my entire life…tell me what I can do to break their weapons!” I ask.

“Produce money!” shouts the dragon.

“Money?” I asked like a real dumb.

“Yes, because money is far more important…far more powerful than any man!” whispers the dragon and allows me to breathe.

Oh God! I can breathe…what was that all about…was it the Full Moon…was it my PMS…

All I wanted to was to love…

 

 


He left and it rained but not because he left. It just rained. I thought I was upset because he had left, but I was not…not because of that. He said he was my friend and I agreed with that….at least for a few moments a day…or something like that. I then got a severe headache…no not because he had left but because how I felt after he had left. And it rained. Something felt fake when I waved at him from the balcony… something was still fake. Was it something in me or in him, I did not know that yet.

I hated his beard for the first time. He, too, admitted that men with little manhood tended to grow big beard in this land where minarets were more potent than most of them. Was it his beard? No, not completely that. He smelled like a hell and he did not seem to know that. No, no…don’t get me wrong before I even began. I did not even touch him, he was my friend. Just because he wanted to…but he was too primitive…too manishly man…too shallow…too proud to have a little extension between his legs…no he thought he was but he was never my friend…and I never cared. Wasn’t I dreaming like everyone else? And it rained…I love the way soil smelled…a big white bird opened her wings and flew towards me…she seemed to have known how I felt.

red and blue pill

What pill would kill the pain a fake friend left in my head? I opened the cabinet and took the blue pill. I poured water into a thin tall glass, put the blue pill in the middle of my tongue and pushed it down with water. The pain seemed to have disappeared as I walked towards the mirror. My face seemed different to me. There was disgust and regret even when I stared like a newly made statute or dead. I felt more sublime when I was a statute, insignificant and sad when I pretended to be dead. Then I got scared , no I did not want to be dead…but I did not want to be fake either…I began hating the mirror after my friend…no he was not mine…he was just a friend …

He told me how he stabbed a man…he was proud of that because that was very brave…that was the only reason why he had become  a friend in my conscious sphere…I knew how sorry he and all the other men felt sorry for me for not being a man…I felt sorry for him for not having anything else apart from the little or big extension between his legs.

“Have you ever thought that you are smarter than me?” asked he. He knew the truth, I knew the truth. I still had to pretend that I did not know the truth…because I was not a man…and I could not stab a man…but I think I am going to have to, I said to myself…I am going to have to pretend to be mad…because I know that is going to be less painful and more real…I am going to be a mad woman, shooting the minarets…cutting the throats and cocks of men who made me fake…who forced me to pretend, I promised myself. No, Buddha would not do that…because he was a man…he, too, would not understand…nor would Mohammed…he would laugh at that…

“Sit down! Stay down woman!” he would exclaim, stroking his big beard.

It rained…it rained regret all day… and I took one more blue pill…it rained revenge all night… and I took another blue pill…