they all said it before, you were just stubborn not to listen.
You thought you were stronger, above it......
Such a fool aint ya...
For the first time, the first time in 25 years..you feel theres no way out
you have been immersed into a situation so irreversible, your only way out is to restart..
problem is, it doesnt really restart...you just abruptly switch off...
no farewells, no please wait while windows is shutting down...its just a 1 turning into a 0
one second you were there, with a name, a future, people you loved and cared about, an identity, ambitions, a character, a certain style of doing things...something that ticked you and only you off, some special thing you saw in someone that nobody else possibly sees.
And the following second...with no distinct border between them...
You are nothing...
something of the past...
you cease to exist.
What makes it all the more dreadful.
Its all the product of your choices, every time you had two paths to choose one, apparently you chose the wrong one, you try to fix it at every opportunity life gives you a choice ( which in anyone's case is quite abundant) and you just keep screwing it up
goofing
and nobody will ridicule you but yourself.
Your solution? ho ho, be a coward and take your own life.. forever seal your memory with shame, face the eternal damnation as a result of you making a decision which isn't yours to make. people will never understand your motives, they will probably think it was a call for attention gone too far.
But nothing comes at an easy price.
Your method, some say you have 8 million ways to die...Your method would be the simplest...just jump off a skyscraper, enough time to go back on your decision but realize you really cant beat gravity...3ashan ta3raf we tegama3 inta 2ad eeh 7omar.
And no, i wont do it in a suit
nor a t-shirt that says goodbye cruel world
no note, no tell folana i love her
just jump
bare
seal it with the shame it deserves
theyll probably say you are some crazy fucko
you deserve it...
*poof*
Friday, January 9, 2009
Monday, November 10, 2008
Jeremy will never speak
{Best read while listening to "Jeremy"by Pearl Jam"}
He always had an agitated look on his face, as if breathing pained him. it did, for he was one of those kids with overactive salivary glands.. he always had drool foaming at the corners of his mouth, he'd have to suck them in before speaking, he was too old to drool on his teeshirt. no it was not a diagnosed case, he just happened to be overly enticed about life, alot of things he'd see or alot of feelings he would experience would make him drool. it was like seeing a delicious dish, or a wonderfully busted woman, inviting you to devour her. that was his reaction to almost the simplest of things, birds chirping, the warm rays of the sun falling onto his face, it did that to him.With that gift, Im sure he would be destined to have a magnificent life full of experiences. That was enough to make him special.Sadly enough all the boys in his class saw things differently.
why is this kid so intense?
one minute he is agitated,
one minute he is smiling. no in betweens,
dude what is wrong with him?
he must be a freak..
he scares me cause he is different,
i d better show him who is boss, so that he doesnt pull his freaks on me.
I'd better take the initiative and defend myself from this monstrous abomination.
and that is what everyone did to him..
even me...
What was worse is..we more often than not..enjoyed it.
We enjoyed seeing him agitated, we enjoyed seeing him in pain,
we even enjoyed it more when we knew it was the result of our actions.
That we had that power..
a power to harness something we fear , to control it and show it how discomforting its mere existence can cause us,
in these few moments we chuckle and laugh, out of relief..
relief that it can no longer harm us.
What we forgot was, that It is not an It..
its a human..It had a name...
Mickey was It's name.
Mickey had parents who loved him, who wanted him to be the best kid in the world, they treated him normal disregarding the fact that he was "sensitive", gave him the confidence to beleive nothing is beyond him, that he can do whatever he pleases, and be whoever he wants to be..It was always pretend.For in the playground, he was always abandoned if not bullied, always ridiculed if not neglected. the rare moments of peace, would be him chasing an ant like a dog chasing a car, chasing a breeze like it were his last ticket outta here..absorbing the sun like a sunflower ( gay i know) but you shoulda seen how much he worshipped the sun.
every day was a dissapointment to his dreams, to what his mother told him..and it would never stop.
Then came one day when we realized, the effect we had over Mickey..
we turned him into a Monster..He yelled,He screamed,He Wailed like a Banshee,
you could hear his chest vibrating mid-yell.
He punched the bully in the face,fought back,but felt no victory he felt anguish..
he dreaded that they turned him into one of them
that he now had to hurt things to feel better about himself.
He Gnashed his teeth Bit the Recess lady's Right breast while she hugged him..
His Jaw oh, so full of hate, and need in the same time
a hate of cruelty
a need for nurture
Silk from her shirt
blood from her bosom.
I will never forget that day.A few years later, a little girl in a younger class was found maimed in the bathroom, everyone suspected Mickey...
It was a sick janitor, who had a thing for girls in school uniform.
After Graduation, I heard that a shooting took place in school after I left,
Everyone suspected Mickey......
It was a kid that used to bully Mickey, his dad bought him a gun for his Birthday…
Mickey spent a good chunk of time on my mind, His image would blindside me on an idle Tuesday on my way back from work, I’d wonder what’s he up to now?
Does he have a Job?
How is he received there?
Does he have a Girlfriend? If he does, she must be special…
What’s her favorite thing about him?
Does he tell her how bad he was treated as a kid, to justify his shortcomings?
Or would he swallow it, and prove himself better than helpless?
Does he remember the day when he bit the recess lady?
Or does he act like it never happened?
whenever I listen to Jeremy, or hear about someone getting picked on, I remember…
And I Regret…
We all wanted to blame Mickey,
it made us comfortable, he was our scapegoat to the unusual, the uncanny,
the abnormal…
I ask myself if we loved him, rather than fear him, would he have turned out different?
Would he be that Silly Playboy in the convertible that goes to Purple every night?
Or would he be that whiz kid at Oxford, doing his PhD in bio-chemistry?
Would he be that gifted writer with a column in that best selling magazine?
Or would he be a hot shot lawyer, taking on the cases that freak the fuck outta the rest of his peers?
Only to spend his nights snorting cocaine, and sweet talking pretty women?
Well I decided to find out. I tracked him down ,
which took me quite a while for someone who you couldn’t call covering up his tracks.
If you know me well, I like to make everything look like a coincidence, so I accidentally “Bumped” into him on his way out from a bookstore.
“Mickey!”
“do I know you?” he still had the very retained posture, the very apologetic tone of voice, as if him not knowing on you is an unforgivable mistake
.“Mickey its me…Osiris Kane…”
“Oh…Hi……Kane, I remember you…of course, you’re the guy who did the plays..im surprised you remember me…”
“Mickey, who can forget?..tell me whats going on with you?”
“Nothing…nothing much really… I work now..here in the bookstore, I just finished my shift…can I buy you a cup of coffee? We can chitchat…”
I, of course accepted. He hasn’t changed at all, still very well mannered, still warmly smiling, he wears thick glasses now, probably from reading too much in dim light, a little chubbier than back in school, balding severly…but no comb-overs, wigs , transplants nothing. He graduated from high-school, studied literature at university, and now works at a bookstore.
He has a hobby of binding and restoring old books, and hopes that one day actually opens up a shop. The bookstore job doesn’t pay well, but his hobby is bringing in most of the income, he’s about to get married to a girl he is crazy about. He showed me a picture, she isn’t exactly hale berry, but he talks about her as if she were.
She obviously loves him, cause the pullover he was wearing was knitted by her, the pants her choice from a designer shop, even the glass frames were a gift from her on his birthday.
When I asked him if I am invited to the wedding, he responded aloofly saying..“Duh, but I don’t have enough money to invite you..”I was heartwarmed to realize he turned out okay, he didn’t kill anyone, wasn’t a freak..he was defiantly hoboish, a loner, in a world on his own. But a king of that world, in his own little empire.
I asked him how he felt about what happened to him in school, and the constant bullying he was subjected to, he hated it, beyond words can describe. He said he always wanted to plot his revenge, but he says he has learnt, that forgiveness is a lot more powerful and a lot more satisfying than chopping their digits off.And him plotting his vendetta only makes it mean that they did get to him. He wont give us that honor.I am too much of a coward to tell Mickey in the face that I am sorry, for whatever I might have done, I just told him to read my blog…
So Mickey, if you are reading this…..I am truly sorry..I envied you for how you don’t need anyone to live, how independent you were and how care free you lived.
I was merely completing the circle of life.., I was bullied, I bully you.. guess you are strong enough to break the circle, and let me tell you this; for that, you are truly a Hero, worthy of admiration and respect.
I am sure there are others too I have stepped on, sometimes I probably had nightmares about them coming back to do something nasty to me like I did to them. To all of you out there, I am sorry…As for the others, the ones that bullied me….You know who you are, Ill be the bigger person, I will learn from Mickey…
I Forgive You…
He always had an agitated look on his face, as if breathing pained him. it did, for he was one of those kids with overactive salivary glands.. he always had drool foaming at the corners of his mouth, he'd have to suck them in before speaking, he was too old to drool on his teeshirt. no it was not a diagnosed case, he just happened to be overly enticed about life, alot of things he'd see or alot of feelings he would experience would make him drool. it was like seeing a delicious dish, or a wonderfully busted woman, inviting you to devour her. that was his reaction to almost the simplest of things, birds chirping, the warm rays of the sun falling onto his face, it did that to him.With that gift, Im sure he would be destined to have a magnificent life full of experiences. That was enough to make him special.Sadly enough all the boys in his class saw things differently.
why is this kid so intense?
one minute he is agitated,
one minute he is smiling. no in betweens,
dude what is wrong with him?
he must be a freak..
he scares me cause he is different,
i d better show him who is boss, so that he doesnt pull his freaks on me.
I'd better take the initiative and defend myself from this monstrous abomination.
and that is what everyone did to him..
even me...
What was worse is..we more often than not..enjoyed it.
We enjoyed seeing him agitated, we enjoyed seeing him in pain,
we even enjoyed it more when we knew it was the result of our actions.
That we had that power..
a power to harness something we fear , to control it and show it how discomforting its mere existence can cause us,
in these few moments we chuckle and laugh, out of relief..
relief that it can no longer harm us.
What we forgot was, that It is not an It..
its a human..It had a name...
Mickey was It's name.
Mickey had parents who loved him, who wanted him to be the best kid in the world, they treated him normal disregarding the fact that he was "sensitive", gave him the confidence to beleive nothing is beyond him, that he can do whatever he pleases, and be whoever he wants to be..It was always pretend.For in the playground, he was always abandoned if not bullied, always ridiculed if not neglected. the rare moments of peace, would be him chasing an ant like a dog chasing a car, chasing a breeze like it were his last ticket outta here..absorbing the sun like a sunflower ( gay i know) but you shoulda seen how much he worshipped the sun.
every day was a dissapointment to his dreams, to what his mother told him..and it would never stop.
Then came one day when we realized, the effect we had over Mickey..
we turned him into a Monster..He yelled,He screamed,He Wailed like a Banshee,
you could hear his chest vibrating mid-yell.
He punched the bully in the face,fought back,but felt no victory he felt anguish..
he dreaded that they turned him into one of them
that he now had to hurt things to feel better about himself.
He Gnashed his teeth Bit the Recess lady's Right breast while she hugged him..
His Jaw oh, so full of hate, and need in the same time
a hate of cruelty
a need for nurture
Silk from her shirt
blood from her bosom.
I will never forget that day.A few years later, a little girl in a younger class was found maimed in the bathroom, everyone suspected Mickey...
It was a sick janitor, who had a thing for girls in school uniform.
After Graduation, I heard that a shooting took place in school after I left,
Everyone suspected Mickey......
It was a kid that used to bully Mickey, his dad bought him a gun for his Birthday…
Mickey spent a good chunk of time on my mind, His image would blindside me on an idle Tuesday on my way back from work, I’d wonder what’s he up to now?
Does he have a Job?
How is he received there?
Does he have a Girlfriend? If he does, she must be special…
What’s her favorite thing about him?
Does he tell her how bad he was treated as a kid, to justify his shortcomings?
Or would he swallow it, and prove himself better than helpless?
Does he remember the day when he bit the recess lady?
Or does he act like it never happened?
whenever I listen to Jeremy, or hear about someone getting picked on, I remember…
And I Regret…
We all wanted to blame Mickey,
it made us comfortable, he was our scapegoat to the unusual, the uncanny,
the abnormal…
I ask myself if we loved him, rather than fear him, would he have turned out different?
Would he be that Silly Playboy in the convertible that goes to Purple every night?
Or would he be that whiz kid at Oxford, doing his PhD in bio-chemistry?
Would he be that gifted writer with a column in that best selling magazine?
Or would he be a hot shot lawyer, taking on the cases that freak the fuck outta the rest of his peers?
Only to spend his nights snorting cocaine, and sweet talking pretty women?
Well I decided to find out. I tracked him down ,
which took me quite a while for someone who you couldn’t call covering up his tracks.
If you know me well, I like to make everything look like a coincidence, so I accidentally “Bumped” into him on his way out from a bookstore.
“Mickey!”
“do I know you?” he still had the very retained posture, the very apologetic tone of voice, as if him not knowing on you is an unforgivable mistake
.“Mickey its me…Osiris Kane…”
“Oh…Hi……Kane, I remember you…of course, you’re the guy who did the plays..im surprised you remember me…”
“Mickey, who can forget?..tell me whats going on with you?”
“Nothing…nothing much really… I work now..here in the bookstore, I just finished my shift…can I buy you a cup of coffee? We can chitchat…”
I, of course accepted. He hasn’t changed at all, still very well mannered, still warmly smiling, he wears thick glasses now, probably from reading too much in dim light, a little chubbier than back in school, balding severly…but no comb-overs, wigs , transplants nothing. He graduated from high-school, studied literature at university, and now works at a bookstore.
He has a hobby of binding and restoring old books, and hopes that one day actually opens up a shop. The bookstore job doesn’t pay well, but his hobby is bringing in most of the income, he’s about to get married to a girl he is crazy about. He showed me a picture, she isn’t exactly hale berry, but he talks about her as if she were.
She obviously loves him, cause the pullover he was wearing was knitted by her, the pants her choice from a designer shop, even the glass frames were a gift from her on his birthday.
When I asked him if I am invited to the wedding, he responded aloofly saying..“Duh, but I don’t have enough money to invite you..”I was heartwarmed to realize he turned out okay, he didn’t kill anyone, wasn’t a freak..he was defiantly hoboish, a loner, in a world on his own. But a king of that world, in his own little empire.
I asked him how he felt about what happened to him in school, and the constant bullying he was subjected to, he hated it, beyond words can describe. He said he always wanted to plot his revenge, but he says he has learnt, that forgiveness is a lot more powerful and a lot more satisfying than chopping their digits off.And him plotting his vendetta only makes it mean that they did get to him. He wont give us that honor.I am too much of a coward to tell Mickey in the face that I am sorry, for whatever I might have done, I just told him to read my blog…
So Mickey, if you are reading this…..I am truly sorry..I envied you for how you don’t need anyone to live, how independent you were and how care free you lived.
I was merely completing the circle of life.., I was bullied, I bully you.. guess you are strong enough to break the circle, and let me tell you this; for that, you are truly a Hero, worthy of admiration and respect.
I am sure there are others too I have stepped on, sometimes I probably had nightmares about them coming back to do something nasty to me like I did to them. To all of you out there, I am sorry…As for the others, the ones that bullied me….You know who you are, Ill be the bigger person, I will learn from Mickey…
I Forgive You…
The Sub-Dummies
It was a massacre...
Mass Annihilation...
Life was cheap....
blood was cheaper...
I always worried about the Dummies. I always mentioned that the Dummies are coming... the Dummies are coming. Recently my rhetoric change to the dummies are here. I was looking the wrong way...cause you shouldnt fear the dummies, cause they are closer to fulfilling their fantasies and desires, they are living their dreams. The ones you ought to worry about are the less fortunate ones, the Dummies that dont come, the Dummies that arent here...It all started like any regular night in Ramadan. People fasting, People Watching TV, people trying to digest, and then you had the bling blings...acting like it wasnt ramadan, not cause theyre too cool for Ramadan...probably because they dont want to break the routine. A party a week is a party a week. Ramadan or no Ramadan....So they held a Party in the "Arabia Compound" overlooking a really stinky canal. I never really got where exclusive places for cool affluent people always had to be miles away from anywhere that could be deemed as remotely affluent. As i walk in, ...no that sounds too veteran, who am i to walk in...ok..Things arent like what they used to be back in the day... people used to party in Ramadan, booze up and have a wild time probably because they dont want to break the routine, A party a week is a party a week...they dont really care that Ramadan Gana...nor wa7awi ya wa7awi...
to them its just a cool month cause theyres always good food, and a time for good social activity. nothing more...
That was back in the day.
Nowadays...its Dummihood trying to crawl outta its skin...trying to shed its old skin...
they dont fast cause its cool...cause now that they have money, all of a sudden they can have an opinion, they can express themselves, they can choose..choose to be thankful to God and strengthen their relationship with Him now that He has blessed them, or they can grow an Ego..
and be too cool for being religous and Pious...they think they are Human beings now...they dont need to be good...they have all they need now. They shower their sons with money, but never gifts...The sons go spend it in City Stars...finding the most expensive and outrageous tops ( yes i never thought the day would come when a man would refer to a torsal article of clothing as a "Top") they buy cool phones, cooler shoes, and have the funkiest hair that believe it or not make even Hakeem Cringe... but they never get Cars...all they can afford...is nothing cooler than a lancer...they no a lancer is not cool.....and all they care about is cool..they ride shotgun with someone..All over the place, you find booze...empty bottles cheap guys with cheaper women, i cant really remember why was i there...did someone call for help?
no, i think i stopped doing that...i wasnt there for my own personal entertainment i am sure...was it a birthday?it was just really really cheap...cheap debauchery..Since i wasnt really enjoying my time there, i was more concerned about other trivial stuff people really dont notice.
It was a gang of boys..all stooped over one another peeking through a hole in the fence...theyre from outside of the compound...theyre hearing the music, laughter and can smell the booze while on their way back from spending most of the night in a mosque trying to get closer to God. Wondering why the likes of the people in the party, get to party all they want, and still end up with money , while they work their asses off, and have to make do 3 mouths to a loaf of bread.As the music escalated, so did the moans and groans of the drunk girls...writhing like snakes...The boys on the other side of the fence couldnt take it anymore...theyre determined...they dont really know what would they do when they get across, would they join in on the fun, or just obliterate all this offence..they really didnt care, to them it was about getting there...they were so consumed about getting there, they will decide to what to do when they finally get there.
The Fence collapsed, they poured in like water pouring out of a shattered aquarium, like a tidal wave.Nobody really noticed, The orgy they were in had their undivided attention. I couldnt stand to look, but i identified the point of the clash when the moans turned to shrieks. when they realized the groping of their privates wasnt the hands they thought, it was the hands of horny little deprived kids. Its like these little kids turned into monsters in a matter of seconds...popping out of nowhere, holding any piece of flesh and trying to consume it in any way possible, biting grabbinq, squeezing, pinching, even dry humping..
The Girls were in horror.More Kids More KidsLess girls Less girls.Would they turn to men to avoid scarcity?i started walking out, it was too much to handle.They blocked the way. One of the servicemen told me theres another route out over the hill. but decending the hill will be tricky, cause alot of pathways lead to other places.
He gave me a detailed description which i took to heart.The Chaos just exploded.With everyone screaming and running for their lives it was hard for anyone to focus. theyd lunge, 2 or 3 of them at a time over a man, and bring him down like game. One of them would scour hime for any valuables the other would start biting at his shin, i failed to recognize that was out of rage, bitterness or a mere unsatisfied apetite.people do crazy things when they are hungry.i noticed that it just wasnt the little boys anymore, everyone was joining in. The Older ones were much more amusing to watch, you can imagine how excited a 70 year old would get once he gets access to 20 year old flesh.I still cant tell what was the motive behind this. Sex , Food or Money? it was like a combination of all three if you ask me, a cry for need, a cry against greed these people had bitten off alot more than they can chew, while others sat in frustration and bitterness while the fortunate dummies dined on the world and its feeble pleasures
What kills them the most, is that they were unfortunate not so long ago...these thoughts were inturrpted when i realized im tumbling down the hill. A man eating a face broke my fall.I saw the head on the floor next to me, half of it has been eaten to the bone. the other half actually still looked like a face..you can tell the owner of the head was terrified in his last instant alive. All the booze and drugs he consumed couldnt "high" him out of having his face eaten by a hungry horny mechanic. I start running down a cold dark path by the canal until i run out of breath. i resume my escape by inconspicuously walking, im entering a crowd now and i think i can pass for either hungry...or food...i can see the crowd ending shortly, the moment they do, i will run for my life once more. I Pass the crowd, yet still in their line of vision, i realize my break will wait until i am no longer in their line of sight.i hear another man behind me talking to himself.
المكان ده خطر
سكوت
هايل
مكان تجيب فيه وحده و تزنقها
I look at him to acknowlege the subtle humor he had in his statement...his face is like a peeled orange, with bites taken out of it, and he is limping with a part of his damaged foot under his arm...At that point, i acknowledged maybe this is a little too much for me, i really want to opt out.It was to my, and horny eaten mans luck that a steamboat passed in the canal. A yellow one, we jumped aboard, and said we would explain to the skipper later. Apparently we werent the first people escaping the chaos, so the skipper didnt exactly need any explanation.All i can remember was the boat was really slow, probably why James Watt isnt really revered historically.
5 hours later along with a group of citizens we decided to report the issue to the police.when questioned in the police station, i could see blood stains on the cops collar, with a fingernail (apparently not his) stuck between his teeth
He very corteously took down my statement on a peice of paper and then he asked me...
Werent you Fasting?
Mass Annihilation...
Life was cheap....
blood was cheaper...
I always worried about the Dummies. I always mentioned that the Dummies are coming... the Dummies are coming. Recently my rhetoric change to the dummies are here. I was looking the wrong way...cause you shouldnt fear the dummies, cause they are closer to fulfilling their fantasies and desires, they are living their dreams. The ones you ought to worry about are the less fortunate ones, the Dummies that dont come, the Dummies that arent here...It all started like any regular night in Ramadan. People fasting, People Watching TV, people trying to digest, and then you had the bling blings...acting like it wasnt ramadan, not cause theyre too cool for Ramadan...probably because they dont want to break the routine. A party a week is a party a week. Ramadan or no Ramadan....So they held a Party in the "Arabia Compound" overlooking a really stinky canal. I never really got where exclusive places for cool affluent people always had to be miles away from anywhere that could be deemed as remotely affluent. As i walk in, ...no that sounds too veteran, who am i to walk in...ok..Things arent like what they used to be back in the day... people used to party in Ramadan, booze up and have a wild time probably because they dont want to break the routine, A party a week is a party a week...they dont really care that Ramadan Gana...nor wa7awi ya wa7awi...
to them its just a cool month cause theyres always good food, and a time for good social activity. nothing more...
That was back in the day.
Nowadays...its Dummihood trying to crawl outta its skin...trying to shed its old skin...
they dont fast cause its cool...cause now that they have money, all of a sudden they can have an opinion, they can express themselves, they can choose..choose to be thankful to God and strengthen their relationship with Him now that He has blessed them, or they can grow an Ego..
and be too cool for being religous and Pious...they think they are Human beings now...they dont need to be good...they have all they need now. They shower their sons with money, but never gifts...The sons go spend it in City Stars...finding the most expensive and outrageous tops ( yes i never thought the day would come when a man would refer to a torsal article of clothing as a "Top") they buy cool phones, cooler shoes, and have the funkiest hair that believe it or not make even Hakeem Cringe... but they never get Cars...all they can afford...is nothing cooler than a lancer...they no a lancer is not cool.....and all they care about is cool..they ride shotgun with someone..All over the place, you find booze...empty bottles cheap guys with cheaper women, i cant really remember why was i there...did someone call for help?
no, i think i stopped doing that...i wasnt there for my own personal entertainment i am sure...was it a birthday?it was just really really cheap...cheap debauchery..Since i wasnt really enjoying my time there, i was more concerned about other trivial stuff people really dont notice.
It was a gang of boys..all stooped over one another peeking through a hole in the fence...theyre from outside of the compound...theyre hearing the music, laughter and can smell the booze while on their way back from spending most of the night in a mosque trying to get closer to God. Wondering why the likes of the people in the party, get to party all they want, and still end up with money , while they work their asses off, and have to make do 3 mouths to a loaf of bread.As the music escalated, so did the moans and groans of the drunk girls...writhing like snakes...The boys on the other side of the fence couldnt take it anymore...theyre determined...they dont really know what would they do when they get across, would they join in on the fun, or just obliterate all this offence..they really didnt care, to them it was about getting there...they were so consumed about getting there, they will decide to what to do when they finally get there.
The Fence collapsed, they poured in like water pouring out of a shattered aquarium, like a tidal wave.Nobody really noticed, The orgy they were in had their undivided attention. I couldnt stand to look, but i identified the point of the clash when the moans turned to shrieks. when they realized the groping of their privates wasnt the hands they thought, it was the hands of horny little deprived kids. Its like these little kids turned into monsters in a matter of seconds...popping out of nowhere, holding any piece of flesh and trying to consume it in any way possible, biting grabbinq, squeezing, pinching, even dry humping..
The Girls were in horror.More Kids More KidsLess girls Less girls.Would they turn to men to avoid scarcity?i started walking out, it was too much to handle.They blocked the way. One of the servicemen told me theres another route out over the hill. but decending the hill will be tricky, cause alot of pathways lead to other places.
He gave me a detailed description which i took to heart.The Chaos just exploded.With everyone screaming and running for their lives it was hard for anyone to focus. theyd lunge, 2 or 3 of them at a time over a man, and bring him down like game. One of them would scour hime for any valuables the other would start biting at his shin, i failed to recognize that was out of rage, bitterness or a mere unsatisfied apetite.people do crazy things when they are hungry.i noticed that it just wasnt the little boys anymore, everyone was joining in. The Older ones were much more amusing to watch, you can imagine how excited a 70 year old would get once he gets access to 20 year old flesh.I still cant tell what was the motive behind this. Sex , Food or Money? it was like a combination of all three if you ask me, a cry for need, a cry against greed these people had bitten off alot more than they can chew, while others sat in frustration and bitterness while the fortunate dummies dined on the world and its feeble pleasures
What kills them the most, is that they were unfortunate not so long ago...these thoughts were inturrpted when i realized im tumbling down the hill. A man eating a face broke my fall.I saw the head on the floor next to me, half of it has been eaten to the bone. the other half actually still looked like a face..you can tell the owner of the head was terrified in his last instant alive. All the booze and drugs he consumed couldnt "high" him out of having his face eaten by a hungry horny mechanic. I start running down a cold dark path by the canal until i run out of breath. i resume my escape by inconspicuously walking, im entering a crowd now and i think i can pass for either hungry...or food...i can see the crowd ending shortly, the moment they do, i will run for my life once more. I Pass the crowd, yet still in their line of vision, i realize my break will wait until i am no longer in their line of sight.i hear another man behind me talking to himself.
المكان ده خطر
سكوت
هايل
مكان تجيب فيه وحده و تزنقها
I look at him to acknowlege the subtle humor he had in his statement...his face is like a peeled orange, with bites taken out of it, and he is limping with a part of his damaged foot under his arm...At that point, i acknowledged maybe this is a little too much for me, i really want to opt out.It was to my, and horny eaten mans luck that a steamboat passed in the canal. A yellow one, we jumped aboard, and said we would explain to the skipper later. Apparently we werent the first people escaping the chaos, so the skipper didnt exactly need any explanation.All i can remember was the boat was really slow, probably why James Watt isnt really revered historically.
5 hours later along with a group of citizens we decided to report the issue to the police.when questioned in the police station, i could see blood stains on the cops collar, with a fingernail (apparently not his) stuck between his teeth
He very corteously took down my statement on a peice of paper and then he asked me...
Werent you Fasting?
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