Monday, October 4, 2010


Young teens killing themselves because they were being bullied over their sexuality, made headlines last week. In the light of this, an excerpt from my novel, PAINTING BY NUMBERS.

The whole experience of institutionalized education hasn’t left me much impressed. But, in all honesty, I think middle school may be the worst period in a kid’s life. In fact, it may be one of the worst segments of a human life. All these kids hitting puberty at the same time and being exposed to a supposedly more mature way of education for the first time in their lives, make it a very confusing three years. And when you’re eleven, three years can be a very long time. During this period I had a few what-you-may-call-friends, not really good ones, but a few kids I hung out with at school, and pretended to like as much as they pretended to like me. Mostly I had to deal with a vast number of too-cool-for-school, wannabe-gangsta, jewelry-flashing, brand-name-wearing, wake-me-up-at-5AM-to-groom-for-middle-school losers. The girls all had the brand-name wardrobes, and never seized to brag about how much their outfits cost. Boys weren't much better with $200 sneakers, the latest threads from Abercrombie or Hollister, iPods, and the latest cellphones to text with until their thumbs hurt. The rest were either trying to be like them, or trying to be the exact opposite. Oh, and of course there was this whole dating scheme where you were either in or out. And, if you were really out of luck, you could become the center of ridicule because you seemed uninterested in the opposite sex, even if in most cases this apparent lack of interest was more likely driven by insecurity issues, and low self-esteem, but it’s just so much fun to call someone a faggot. Faggot is the number one name kids use for guys who don’t fit in, and everything and everyone they don’t like is so gay. No one cares about anyone’s feelings. There are a lot of assholes out there thinking it's wrong to be homosexual, or different in any kind of way. They think it's all so fucking funny, but it's not fucking funny at all. Thank God not everyone is the same, and if someone’s homosexual it doesn’t mean he’s going to rape your ass. All I want to do when I hear someone talk crap like that is stick my middle finger right up at that motherfucker, but most times I kept it to myself, afraid to get even more shit. Right now I wished I had stood up for myself more often. Maybe I could have had a life after all if today had never happened.
Some people will never know how much they have hurt me. Some are amongst the people I shot, not all. Others maybe still alive but are probably too goddamn ignorant to realize I targeted them in the first place. Isn’t it sad how ignorant and heartless people can be? How some people seem to feed on other people’s miseries? One word can ruin somebody's day. One sentence can ruin somebody's life. It seems as if some people need to do that, to insult someone else to make themselves feel better, or even just to make their friends laugh. Teachers do it, for sure. They do it to get a sense of authority.
The worst feeling in the world is waking up every morning and having to go to school, not knowing whether or not you are going to be tortured that day. How many times did I not want to wake up at all, so I wouldn't have to deal with my tormentors. I was driven many times to the point where I would slice a knife over my skin, and feel the pain fall away in drops of blood. I have the scars to remind me of those days that are proof of the pain of my loneliness and isolation. It is very scary what people like me do to forget pain. Believe me, it’s a very scary feeling having no fucking control over your own daily life. When you can’t even cry because it hurts too much. When you can’t move your arm because the gashes are so deep, and all you can think about is that the next time you put that knife to your skin, you should cut just a little deeper. Scarier even, is when nobody sees your pain. When you’re all alone in the world without anyone there to help you. When all you need can be as little as a few words, an arm around your shoulder, or someone to tell you everything is going to be alright, even when you know it won’t. Forget about your so-called friends, who all think you're a big joke anyway, laugh at you and pick on you. Forget the so-called do-good adults who are supposedly there to protect you. You get to a point where life is too much to take and you try to swallow a bottle of pills to end it all, but even that doesn't work because you throw up from natural reflex. I've been there and done all that, and look at where it got me. Thanks everybody, now the hunted has become the hunter. Fear has made place for power. I got you now suckers, and shit, it feels so fucking good.

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