My black hole exsistence.

Today I am going to tell you more about 13 January 2017.

HE said ravenous sh*t about it all being my fault and I got so damn volcanic angry that I got real explicit and blasted out. ( I don’t like calling HIM as my father and so call HIM as, well, “HIM” )

It’s all mummy’s fault, is it? Then there are only two possibilities :

• She is a Mother Virgin and I plopped out of nowhere.
•  Mummy slept with another guy, got pregnant, married HIM and hence gave birth to me.

Manhood my ass!

HE said I am not being logical at all. I am being logical. I am being crystal clear logical. And HE slapped me. It’s like he has been waiting for all these days to slap me. HE said “fuck” is a bad word and that mummy taught me such words. I told HIM that it is not a bad word. Penis is not a bad word. Penis is the name given to the male sex organ. It has a specific name. When something has a specific name, you call it by that name. You cannot call it “that” thing and all.

It’s just ’cause HE has a penis, HE has a fucking “manhood”, HE has to be a man, HE has to use all his testosterone and show how dastardly bastard he can be. I always wanted to kick his worm out of his unworthy body.

That day I kicked it as much as I can, grabbed it and did my best to pull it off from his impure body. Mummy held me back so tight and my sister held HIM back so tight. And he just charged ahead, wanting to kill me. HE even said it — ” Leave me, let me kill her today.”

If I had Molly today, I would have told her she was wrong.

HE banged my head on the floor. I am so used to it that I didn’t feel any pain. That is why I suppose I don’t feel pain when I cut myself.

And the thing that haunts me in my dreams happened next.

HE kept on beating me as he dragged me across the floor by my legs. I cried as I showed : Look at my legs! I cut myself because of you!

And he said : Then cut!! I don’t care if you cut. I just want you to become a man.

I scream in my haunted dreams as I see him saying it. I wake up just conspiring how to smash his worm and couldn’t stop thinking about it.

I want all the lost time and lost love back. It’s like a black hole.

I want love. I want all the love which has ben deprived to me since childhood. I want physical reassurance that they are there for me, which I have been snatched off since childhood. I want all the care which couldn’t caress my hairs, and my heart since childhood. I want all the lost time and lost love back. It’s like a black hole. No matter how much (less) I get, I keep wanting more. I want so much more!

I want all the attention to be directed to me for once. Just once, so that I can get rid of HIM and set my life free. I want the freedom of choosing my choices and not be forced to do something out of fear.

When you are small, you see this domestic violence. You are small and your world is small. Your world is as small as the room in which you sleep in, as small as the parents you live with. You are small and innocent. You think this is the way of life — To get beaten up and listen to everything and learn not to ask for more, out of fear of rage and tears which you don’t want again.

When you are small, and get out of your worldly world, you see a new world — school, friends. And there is no one to suppress you. You have people of your age. You think they have the same lives and hence don’t bother much about it. But you like this world more than the one you live with. Must be happening to everybody.

When you grow slowly towards adolescence, a whole new turmoil starts. You feel small, diffident. And you see girls of your age saying loving things about their fathers. Why not me? Why is my father not like that? Why cant I share stories with my friends which are so drastically different? Why? What’s happening? I thought we were the same.

As you surf the tides of puberty, you start revolting against your worldly world. You dunno what’s happening. You remember the times you used to listen and believe whatever the father said, you remember how you liked him, said bye-bye as he went to office, and how the scenery is changing. You think something is wrong with you, and not him. Because parents are always right.

You are just an innocent.

You grow more to reach 15-16 years. Searching for things I didn’t know , searching unknowingly for the things I never had. If I never had it, how will I know?

For now, I searched for someone like me. And I found Hania. So beautifully like me. So beautiful, inside out.

As I felt left out, as Aloka took Hania more into her life, I felt left out. I didn’t understand the turmoil of emotions, they were unknown to me and they were in too heavy doses for me to even fully grasp. Which emotion to take? Again I searched for things I never knew. If I don’t know what to search for how do I know what I am searching for?

I wanted Drew. It’s later that I realised what I searched for, that too only when Pratikshya pointed it out. I was searching for love. Love.

You are no longer an innocent.

You are no longer an innocent when you realise when you realise pain. And this is a very different kind of pain, you’ve never felt before. I didn’t know what it is. I just knew I don’t feel very nice and so tears come out. Just too much more than I acknowledge.

If I had Molly today, I would have told her she was wrong. He is not a man. He is a man-eater.

I cut myself a lot. Because that’s the only thing that distracts me from emotional pain. I am sick of cutting my legs only, I want the world to know what I am going through! I don’t care if they think I am nuts….

I want love. I want all the love which has ben deprived to me since childhood. I want physical reassurance that they are there for me, which I have been snatched off since childhood. I want all the care which couldn’t caress my hairs, and my heart since childhood. I want all the lost time and lost love back.

It’s like a black hole. No matter how much (less) I get, I keep wanting more. I want so much more!