Are you okay?

"Go on Smithy! Fuck her brains out!"
Smithy grunted with a mixture of effort and pleasure.
"I bet you like that, don't you?" said Smithy, breathlessly.
He stopped for a second and turned the girl on to her front.  As he tried to adjust his position he lost balance and collapsed on the floor.
The room erupted in laughter and jeers.
"My turn!" shouted 'Tonny'.  "Smithy's too pissed to carry on.  She can have a real man inside her."  Tonny laughed at his own joke.
'Chaulky' and 'Knotty' looked on, egos inflated, loins inflamed, intoxicated whilst Tonny gave the girl a taste of a real man.

That's the thing, to be part of The Lads you needed a name that ended in a y.  Makes life much easier when shouting across a crowded pub.  "Oi! Smithy! Grab me another pint!"
So The Lads, with names ending in y, egged each other on as they took turns to fuck the slut who was absolutely gagging for it.

Rewind.

"Are you okay?"
"Yeah, just not sure if I want to go tonight."
"It will be fine once you get there."
"I don't know anyone though and don't want to feel like a loner."
"I'll be there my love.  Trust me, you'll have a great time.  Top up?"
Seline necked the the dregs of her wine and offered the empty glass like Oliver Twist wanting more.  The gesture wasn't lost on Lucy and she laughed as she filled Seline's glass with more wine.

Fastforward.

"Are you okay?"
"Yeah, just feel a bit pissed. Have you seen Lucy?"
"She's outside with Knotty."
"Who?"
"Jake. We call him Knotty."
Smithy suddenly moved in for a kiss.  Seline pulled her head away.  "Not so fast.  I'm not that kind of girl."
"It's just a kiss."
"No, it's not 'just a kiss'," Seline punctuated the air.  "I'm not going to shag you; I barely know you."  Seline noticed her words came out a bit slurred.  She finished her wine anyway.  She needed to find Lucy, this guy wasn't as charming as he first appeared.
"I'm a nice guy, I swear."  Smithy mockingly crossed his heart. Seline rolled her eyes.  A flash of something went across Smithy's eyes but it was quickly concealed with a cheesy grin.  Whatever it was it made Seline feel uncomfortable.
"Would you be able to get me some more wine?"
"Sure. On one condition."
"What would that be?"
"You kiss me."
"Ask me after you've given me more wine," Seline said and forced a small smile.
Smithy quickly retreated into the kitchen and fetched more wine.

Fastforward.

"Are you okay?"
"Where's Lucy?" mumbled Seline.
"Who?" asked Smithy.  Seline didn't answer. Her head flopped.
"She okay, Smithy?" asked Chaulky.  "Need a hand?"
"A hand..." Seline giggled, "Fuck me... I feel..."
"Hear that buddy, she wants us to fuck her," said Chaulky, grinning.
"I hear that mate." Smithy grinned too.

Fastforward

"Are you okay?"
"They raped me, Lucy.  Of course I'm not okay."
"But you don't remember. They - "
"They took turns whilst I was unconscious! I bled! I'm still bleeding!"
"I know, I didn't mean -"
"The police said they couldn't do anything.  The police said it was my word against four.  They said I begged them to fuck me..." Seline broke off and started to cry.
Lucy sat in silence, too awkward to speak.
Seline stifled her tears and said, "I don't even remember, Luce. One minute I was talking in the hallway, the next minute I woke up with my stomach and, you know, in agony.  I feel sick. I feel like a slag and I didn't do anything wrong. Fuck!"
"Knotty said you apparently wanted them to have sex with you."
"Lucy!"
Seline walked out, feeling sick and dirty.

Rewind.

"Is she okay?"
"She'll be fine," grinned Smithy.  "Gave her a little pill."

What Dreams May Come

I wish Ben, the winner of this year's X-Factor, all the best.  I'm sure he's not ignorant to the many shattered dreams of other 'winners' scattered before him as he walks the perilous path set out before him by mogul Simon Cowell.  For all the pomp and pumped fists I don't envy the next 12 months of his life which could either see some of his dreams of being a musician come true or all his nightmares of being another puppet, with his strings cut, horribly take centre stage.

That's the thing about having dreams, you have to handle them with care.  I don't believe big dreamers are vulnerable, vague people; to dream big takes courage.  The dreams they cradle though, they are vulnerable and can evaporate like the images in your mind as you wake.  Just as the images that seemed so real and solid as we slept become frustrating to remember when we wake, so the ambitions and desires we have for our lives can be hard to hold on to and bravery to keep pushing for them, working for them and crying for them must remain.

I dream of being a professional writer.  I dream of being an author of published novels.  I dream that what I write will be appreciated by as many people as possible.  Such dreams take patience though.  I guess the X-Factor saddens me because it upholds the illusion of instant everything.  In a matter of weeks you can go from zero to hero.  Easy.  Sign up and be the star in 2015.  Fame and fortune just around the corner.  Any creative soul with integrity knows that the love you have for music, writing and art usually comes at a price and is far from instant.  I have enough rejection letters to know what it means to be patient.

It's getting a balance with your dreams.  It's daring to dream like a child where anything is possible but having the pragmatism to work your fucking arse off to get there.  I have written a novel whilst working full-time as a restaurant manager.  That's not easy.  It's even harder when you're doing it without any idea as to whether it will even be published.  I did it because I love to write and I love to pour my dreams on to paper.

If you're dreaming of something, keep going.  Do it with integrity though because stepping over others potentially destroys yours and their dreams in the process.

Peace.   x

Terror, Torture & Time

When a person self harms it is a physical act of destruction on his body which represents the mental destruction happening and the cry for the anguish to stop.  The pain is sometimes welcomed; the pain sometimes awakens him from a numbness and vacancy.  It is destructive.  It is riddled with guilt.  It is horrible.

When a person from the CIA tortures another human being it is a physical act of destruction which represents the moral implosion of society.  The pain is welcomed by the pain-giver; the torturer is awakened to his own sadistic capabilities.  The torturer steps across a line he can never return from. It is a dark place.

Unfortunately we, the human race, have always done disgusting things to each other and we will most likely carry on doing barbaric acts.  It's right to denounce and it's right to beg for such things to stop.  We're destructive enough.  What I found disturbing though, and wondered how far we have truly evolved, was watching the interview with the former Director of the CIA.  He was a callous son-of-a-bitch.  He could spout all the propaganda he wanted about torture being an effective interrogation tool.  He could argue torture saved thousands of lives.  He could argue the benefits of rectal feeding all night but he was disturbing because he spoke with such aloof arrogance it was almost as if he was inconvenienced for having to answer questions at all.

Whatever the arguments for and against torture may be there are men and women scattered around the world who have been mentally and physically abused, degraded and scarred.  They have been subjected to horror regardless of their 'guilt' or 'innocence.' There are also men and women scattered round the world who committed these acts and may have entered a place of darkness where self-destruct is only a heartbeat away.

Time doesn't always heal.

Time sometimes magnifies pain.

Let's hope we can become a people who don't leave a mark of destruction on history but one of healing.

Peace.   x

Here's the interview: