Gaslighting flashbacks

I don’t feel like doing anything. If the mobile phone is in front of me, I keep scrolling Instagram. Though I see repetitive posts, I keep scrolling.

My personal pandemic

I think I should start taking my anti-depressants again.

Why I decided to run away (PART-2)

To read PART-1, click here.

DISCLAIMER: Loads of swear words coming up.

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.

The Girl who made me feel like a Man

That perfume… that scent… that sexy scent of hers makes me go gaga.

Drew (my first lady-love) used the male perfumes. And that was the first thing which made my blood rise. She is also a tomboy, which makes things worse for me, ’cause I have a weakness for tomboy and a combo pack of boyish-ness and boys’ perfumes was maddening.