All,
Het is 7 jaar geleden deze post.. bezoek hem nog regelmatig.. Waarom? Om te kijken hoe romantisch ik alles kon voorstellen..
Realiteit is dat het verhaal net iets harder is.. verder weg van dit gedoe.. ondertussen is de edited draft bij een auditer.. sommige delen worden nog bijgevoegd.. sommige heel early drafts nog fine getuned..
Ik wil paar zaken rechtzetten hier, en ga dat komende weken/maanden hier ook doen.. en op andere blogs.. why? Because I can.. Excuses voor het gebruik van engelse taal.. helpt me altijd om de basis neer te schrijven van emotie's/gevoelens.. later worden deze in nederlands vertaald.. hieronder is een chapter genaamd first.. Het is niet zo netjes wss.. je mag het deleten als je het provocerend vind.. soit needed to get it out:
The First,
I devote this whole chapter to you my dear friend, I never knew how to write you exactly down, till my own madness took over and I could finally tell a person exactly how you ripped apart everything I was before I met you..
It took me an astonishing 16 years to write you down, which actually makes this an older history then I was when we first crossed paths.
I was not even 15 when you stepped into my life. I at that time just broke up with the love of my life, I was a complete heroin addict and I had no hopes what so ever to survive the next year of my life. The only thing I wanted was to stop feeling anything. The only reason why I used, was to stop feeling my fears, to stop feeling the hate, to stop feeling the betrayal. The sole thing I wanted was to hide into my dreams and the last thing that could stop my dreams from turning into nightmares, was heroin.
I had nothing left in life besides the clothes I wore and a family that was dysfunctional beyond any reasonable degree, I still remember the day before we met. I just discovered I had only half a gram left, I just discovered my mother was in her own world again, the only proof she left behind was the empty bottle in the second closet down under the microwave, the stash she thought nobody in the house knew about, and the cortisone strip where one more was missing from where I stole one two hours before to somehow calm myself down till I found a way out of this glorious mess I found myself in.
I know I googled every entry on a way how to make my own drug, painkiller whatever to stop feeling the way I did, and I know I gave up on all the searches, realizing that the only thing that awaited me in the next 12 hours was a lot of begging or facing again the pain of feeling something.
Settled into my faith, I logged into at that time might popular MSN, trying to get a head start on the begging, wildly believing that my ignorance of any security or protocol would not scare anyone away to help me out. A few hours later, and a few illusions shorter and under an even more desperate spell I gave up till a ‘friend’ directed me to the wonderful world of IRC.. where anything can be asked and found.. even told me the room to go in and his advice to go to the kids section..
I logged in, using the only name I could ever identify myself with.. Lenin14.. Why? Some sort of young hope that this person wasn’t too bad.. till I actually read a history book.. regardless.. Lenin was even more desperate and joined the chat channel..
The chat channel actually belonged to a link that still exists today.. and when I went there yesterday.. It actually knew I could find the same.. within minutes if needed.. It is a channel where you have 60 people at the right in the talking box.. but only 5-10 people will actually share anything on the public box.. All goes behind in the private messages. After staring at the public box for exactly 30 seconds, where a lively conversation was going on about the next or latest pop diva mixed with what a rough day it was at high school with this tough teacher.. and my mind was thinking.. ‘How on earth is this going to help me with what I need’, a blinking new screen opened.
A private message, a guy I believe asking me if I was a girl or boy.. on replying a boy, fuutsj away he went.. 5 seconds later another one.. this time just starting out with telling his dick size.. and a next one, and a next one, all even more staggering in the filth they could crumb together in 3 sentences.. Till 1 ‘normal’ reaction popped up..
Now enters the stage.. Mister goody 56 or 57.. I forgot the year, so I am going to call you goody57. Asking me how I am. This is a first! An actual person wanting to have a conversation with me and knows the first rules of general politeness! Purely overwhelmed that I am , after 15 people only interested in if I have a vagina, or how big my penis is.. , that someone manages to ask me a real life friendly question, I can do nothing but reply and answer with the iconic sentence ‘I feel like shit’. Goody57 jumps on this sentence like a leprechaun would jump on a mushroom (sorry but If I ever going to write a book.. It will be with this newly invented saying in) and starts bombarding me with questions on how come I feel like this? What is my name? how old I am? .. Slowly I started to engage with Mister Goody57 and I tell him the little information I have about myself without painting a fuller picture.
I told Mister goody57 that I had some health problems, that I urgently needed to have some care and that my mother didn’t have any money to support us and that I don’t know what to do.. This must have come over to him as convincing that any 14yr old crackhead can lie.. so Mister Goody did exactly what you can expect from a person aged over 50 when talking to a 14yr old, he offered to altruistically help me out, but in order to do that he would first want to see me in person. We finalized our conversation with exchanging msn contacts, agreeing on a place to meet and I still remember you Mister Goody57! Asking me to take my favourite CD with me because you like to know what ‘kids listen to these days’. Especially that last fact.. I hate you for that mister.. Since that day, I never managed to listen to Bad Religion ever again, the greatest band ever existed in this world.. you had to destroy for me.
We met at the city square, you in this little green Alfa Romeo waiting for me at the public library. Me, appearing in all black and madly nervous.. I just told at home that I was going out to meet some friends.. and would most likely have a dinner there. Who would expect anything when a 14yr old goes out on a Saturday afternoon..
I remember you getting out of your car, how my heart started to beat into my lungs, you looked like a giant to me. You were far over 90 kilo’s and 2 heads bigger than me.. You had this grey ponytail hanging over your shoulders and you were wearing black boots, a very wide builder-fit jeans and a grey sweater that looked like you didn’t wash it for several weeks.. I still remember MisterGoody how you smelled, how you smelled like a strange mix of goat cheese and a cheap deodorant, how your nails were slightly longer then you would expect a normal male of your age to have them, how your small goatee was in serious need of trimming, how your teeth where slightly colored from too many cigarettes, how you walked over to me with this confidence that scared me to death.
I remember, how I stepped into your car. I remember how you smiled to me and said not to worry. That you just wanted to know me better. I remember how I just was afraid to move at all when sitting next to you. Every thought in my head was thinking on all those many ways this could go wrong. I was holding on to this tiny hope that you just wanted to know who I was, before you would get me some money so I could stop my nightmares, I was hoping even that you were a police officer who would just scare me and then would drop me off at a station and I would be forced into rehab, I was hoping that you could help me to get my life back on track. I was hoping so many things while I slowly started to panic that I was out, with a person almost 4 times my age, in a car, with nobody knowing where I was.
But you MisterGoody.. You played it like a champion, you calmed me down in an instant.. Asking me to put first some music on, as you really wanted to know what I was listening to, and with a smile adding that you than might understand better why I was dressed like that. I took it with a smile, I started to tell you all about Bad Religion, on how the singer actually is a professor, how I love the fact that they make me dream of a better place than this.
I actually am calm in this car, I actually start to feel fine now. Ok, this guy is not going to kill me, this is going to go perfectly fine. He is just going to drive me around a bit and give me the money. This is really going fine, don’t worry, keep breathing and smiling, blurr out everything you can about this band and hope he soon has enough of it and drops you out and lets you go with some money. Try to ignore his hand that is now on your leg, He just missed the gear, that’s it. He is just forgetting his hand is there.
Ok, he keeps smiling at me, but his hand is not going from my knee, ok, why is his hand now moving up? Keep smiling Lenin, Keep smiling. It must be a mistake. He is not interested in you? Come on.. you are 14.. He cannot be interested in you. Where are we driving now? Are we in the harbor? I don’t know it here.. Are we slowing down? Why are we stopping here? I have no clue where we are or why we stop here? Does he still have gas? Yes he has.. Should I ask him? How will he react if I ask him? I don’t want to provoke him, I will just keep smiling and pretend all is ok, this will really turn out of fine Lenin, just don’t worry. He most likely just has to make a call or something and soon he will turn back. Don’t look him in the eyes, just look straight ahead and act all is normal, in a second the car will move again, just don’t worry.
The car stopped, I hear his door slam closed. I feel my door is opened. I feel the wind of the river hitting me, it was summer , it shouldn’t be this cold, I am just dressed in a long sleeve black t-shirt. He takes my hand and says to get out. He beckons me to sit at the river, I can only comply, petrified that I might provoke him. He tells me to just relax, lets enjoy the weather together.. The only thought in my head is that it is freezing cold. I just reply with a smile to him. He starts to talk on how he admires that I went out to him to ask for help, that he will try to help me as much as possible. He slowly puts his arm around my shoulder. I just smile at him, so afraid to say anything wrong, anything to upset him.
I slowly feel the arm, to drop down to my waist, I feel him at touching the edges of my ribs, I feel that this is a not a normal hug. He keeps talking to me, I no longer am capable to understand what he says, the only thing I feel is his claws on my waist, I feel how he slowly pulls up my shirt with 2 fingers. I feel the icy cold wind hitting my stomach when he pulls my shirt up, I feel his other hand trying to get into my trousers from the back.. I feel sick, I feel like I want to scream for help.. The only words I manage to say are ‘not here’
The car stops in front of an apartment block, it’s a beautiful complex.. in a neighborhood where you can only dream to be.. or in my case.. not to be.. He parks the car.. I try to match the car with the neighborhood and I fail in the process.. My mind isn’t that clear at this point. We get in the elevator, again his fleshy fingers on my body, now more demanding, knowing that I am his for now, that I somehow agreed to this by getting into the car, that whatever I was before, is now gone and the only thing I will be, is up to him to decide..
We get into the apartment, I am trembling, I try to look at an exit, remembering what I was thought, always have a way out, always, never get stuck in a place, remember to run whenever you can. Run. Don’t hesitate. I can’t run.. there is no chance.. 1 door, 1 person, I try to imagine myself running past him, but I cant .. I can only sit and follow to the couch..
I remember how you looked at me, your confidence, that smile on your face, like you knew I was not going anywhere, and I saw that smile turn into a grin when you asked me if I wanted a drink.. I remember I asked for vodka, and you came back with a beer.. I remember your disgusting face when you opened the beer bottle and the foam dripped out.. you laughed at me.. and told me.. The bottle already does exactly what you will do.... I knew.. I knew from the moment I got into the car.. I knew all.. I knew whoever walked outside this apartment.. it was not going to be me again.
You walked to the couch, you putted the beer on the table in front of me. You took a big sip from yours, and ploughed yourself next to me.. Your hands came back to me, more forceful now than before. You started to pull my shirt over my head. Before I even managed to lift my arms you pushed me back, I fell sideways on the couch with the shirt half over my head. I couldn’t see anything because of the shirt wrapped over my head, the only thing I felt is your hands over my chest, your tongue going over my ribs, and before I could release my arms out of the shirt, I felt your hurried hands pulling my buckle.
Seconds later, I laid naked in front of you, a 14 year old boy weighing 50 kilo in front of a 95 kilo grown man. The next vision I have, is of you pulling down your pants, releasing your dick while still having the rest of your clothes on.. You crawl on top of me, trying to kiss me and grabbing my face when I try to pull it away, forcing your tongue into my mouth, I remember your taste, the stale beer coming into my mouth and trying to keep breathing while you rub your hard dick against mine, I feel your sweat and your chest hairs rubbing against my bare chest, fiercer and fiercer. Your hands trying to put life into my penis, trying to convince yourself that I get horny as well of this treatment..
Was it your frustration, that I didn’t respond like you wanted? Was is that, that made you shove your cock into my mouth? Was is this, that made you hold my head tight while you fucked me like this? I only remember the tears in my eyes and your constant grinding into my throat, I remember trying to breath, I remember trying to move my tongue in any way possible to first avoid choking, later on to make you cum faster, I kept on looking at the painting behind you, the knight with the white cross on his chest, hoping that which each thrust, each time you pulled my head closer, each time you closed my throat, each time I tasted your dick, that it would be over, that this knight would take me away and this never happened.. I remember your face when you finally pulled out of my mouth, the satisfaction in your eyes after you made sure I swallowed what I could., Like you just achieved a new miracle, congratulations.. you just got deep throated by a kid..
I got up and cleaned myself up with my shirt, too afraid to ask for a tissue to get your remains from my chin, I wanted to get up and get dressed. Before I could put on my undies.. your arm held me in a tight grip.. I knew..
You forced me into the bedroom, the sheets that smelled like cigarettes and old moth.. Your mouth all over my body, your hands grappling into me, watching the sealing, hoping that it would end soon.. You getting more and more forceful, hoping that my body finally does what you want.. Pushing my hand to my penis, as apparently this is the only body part I have left that doesn’t do what you want.. My mind goes to zero, I don’t want to piss you off, I need to fix this, I need to be ready, I don’t want to be hurt. Your hands pressing down on my bones, pressing me on, need to get this done, I finally manage, the last body part caves in and surrenders to you..
What happens next.. I can describe as pure pain, yes I was not a virgin in this, but there is a limit, there is something as being ready.. It is not forcing someone on his belly, it is not forcing yourself into someone without second thought, it is not humping your full weight into someone, it is not grabbing my dick while inserting your time and time again.. I don’t remember when you finished.. I only remember getting home, taking a shower, and taking a shower, and taking a shower, and taking a shower, and taking a shower, and taking a shower, and taking a shower, and promising myself, this will never happen again.. till I found the money in my back pocket and bought oblivion with it
!