A story of pity

I have found myself thinking a lot about a girl. I used to call her in the past she never answered. Or she would pick up the phone and tell me she ll call back but never did. I met her in December two years ago. Today i sent her many texts. I was afraid to call her cause whenever i did i would feel the phone app blocking me after only one beep. I just thought of never contacting her but then i have felt a primal fear of her being angry at me. I am stuck.

I tried to meet girls in between but they would only reject me or ignore me. I tried facebook i tried strangers outside or on train. I tried girls from places i went to regularly who shared the activities i was involved in but there was nothing in the outcome of such attempts.

Thus i am invisible.

Thus i am nothing.

I wished i have considered myself ugly because it would make it physical. It would be easier to bear. I still think of my self as an ugly young man but my pride or rather selfcenterdness or may be i am too selfish to succomb to such self statement. I still like to think very low of myself but it only serves the pleasing pain of self degradation. Since i am in love with my reflection on the mirror even if selves from my past would disagree.

I wished i had no money because it would make it easier to bear. I would think girls have the right to abstein from guys with no cent in their pocket. But thank God i have found a hole in society from which i feed.

Last time i met her was this first April. Lets call her M. When i met M last time i was so in awe. I loved everything about her from her voice to hair to eyes to eyebrows to her beautiful hands and waist and legs and thighs and and and … i was so enchanted and i do not know why.

I still wished today and in the days before if i had a chance to travel to Poland. Only to escape my loneliness. Only to prove to myself i am not a ghost. Only to stop the vicious cycle of pain or unrequited obsession. Wiktoria is in a relationship with her guy but still i longued for her. I wanted to see her and to talk to her. Since i never did. We only talked once through this human miracle called the Internet which made souls communicate occross a multitude of lands and seas. I do not think i can look into her eyes from fear to succomb to her charm. Then i felt afraid that the girl i am obsessed with would know my thoughts about Wiktoria and then be angry at me.

Still, i wanted to travel to Poland. Wiktoria is the girl who insipired me to write the northen tales. But she stopped talking to me. I understand her case cause she is with her guy.

But why M? the girl i am so infatuated with does not react to my messages nor reply to my calls. Why all she thinks about is her career and family.  Why she only reacts when i delete my facebook and gets so mad cause she thinks i blocked her. She has the right to live her own life as she wishes. But i have this fake belief in romance. That another soul should be our only reason to live till we meet the lord in heaven. Or never see his face thus reside suffering in Hell.

I am a selfish person.

I have many and very antisocial thoughts. Which i want to write about but i am afraid God will be angry at me. I am also afraid people would judge me.

I hate people preaching about happiness.

Sometimes i hate myself as well but it has been a long time i did not because of medication i guess.

I still believe in the delusions in romance.

One day i ll be able to create an imaginary lover and live with her till i die.

In the meanwhile i kiss my hands before i sleep and after i wake up cause i live alone and think all the time about M. I hope she would reply and tell me to never bother her again. If so i would keep on my escapades to the realm of unreality and meet the polish girl Wiktoria. She seems the only one who is kind enough to let me dream and kind enough to share with me her dark parallel existence.

Wiktoria i wish you a happy life. And M the girl from the suicidal chapters i wrote once about as well.

I love a couple of birds on a nest next to my window. Very charismatic parents and very cute lovely babies. They have three children. Still did not learn how to fly. I wonder if they ll make it one day. To fly.



Rape Romance

It has been years that i have been living alone, away from people. I work in a grocery store in a daily basis, Saturdays too. I work there because i have failed to get a degree in college and as any other girl, that is one way to maintain a decent life without having to rent my body for prostitution. I live alone because i do not understand people, i mean i fail at having a steady social interaction over time with someone. So i guess that is why most of them leave or do not get into the trouble of getting closer to me. Others are just not that interesting. I am sorry for vomiting my pathetic life story on you, it was not my intention. Actually something happened in my life, not that long time ago, something very exciting, something that i am about telling you now.

I was raped last week. I got after work Saturday night very tired very disappointed and very very very frustrated of the loop i felt trapped in, that is my pathetic life. So i did not care enough to lock my apartment’s door. While sleeping i suddenly felt a very strong firm hold on my neck and the lower of my back, the body that was on me was very heavy, i felt so scared that i just froze, my mind was blank and i couldn’t even scream, i felt like there was nothing but my heart. Nothing at all. After he was done he threw my skinny body to the ground and told me he will come back next week.

I spent the whole night on the ground, so scared that i did not have the guts to turn around to check if he is still in the room. I could not think of anything. My mind was blank because of extreme fear. I can hear people now, i can see the sun light, somehow i felt that my courage came back and managed to go to the bathroom. I am under the shower. What just happened to me? my anus hurts so much. I am washing the sperm all over my body. I am still lost inside my head. I know i was raped and that it was horrible. But i just cannot think about it. Why did not i cry ? why am i feeling so cold towards what just happened to me.

Days have passed, and i am checking twice the locks each night. Saturday is so soon. I am starting to feel turned on whenever i remember his words. I will come back next week. I started recently masturbating while imagining the manifestation of his physical strength on my skinny body. Omg each time i think about it i feel more turned on. I guess i am so desperate and so frustrated with my boring life, that i just want him to rape me again. What if he does not come this time. Omg just the idea of him forgetting about me is so depressing.

Saturday’s night.

I have left the door open, i did not lock it and you can even notice the insides of my place from the doorway. I wanted him to know that i wanted him. I have put the best lingerie i have in my possession. i have let some candles light the room. I am lying now on my bed. Waiting and waiting. I hope he will not forget about me. I could not help myself but to masturbate while thinking about him. I am starting to feel nervous. Why is he so late. A wind from the window blew out the candles. Ah! i guess i have heard someone walking on the door way. Oh yes the foot steps are becoming louder and louder.

Oh God he just closed the door behind. He is sitting on my bed now. He does not say a word. My face is on the pillow. i feel so excited. He is touching my ass cheeks now. He got very soft hands. He just grabbed my weightless body to get closer to his crutch. I guess i am gonna be able to see his face. Oh yes. He just slapped my eyes. I cannot see very well. But i don’t really care. I don’t care about anything now. I only want him to do me so violently. I wanted so badly to become his rape slut. So I said,

Rape me hard tonight. Please rape me and make me feel good.

Side Note:

This was another attempt to write off my comfort zone. I still lack the right narrative for this category but i guess i might improve with time. It was hard for me to exactly put into words how i imagined the rape action and feels. I just wrote this because i felt so down recently. I do not know. I guess aging only sheds more light on desperation. Writing has always been an escape for me. An escape from daily frustration. Anyhow i hope the story girl is enjoying her life now with her rapist.