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Crucified by French society

Brian Vane's Memories

 

Because I was gay, I had to quit my family who wanted me beaten and dead. I could have had a good career, I was not designed to. I don't know if we have a fate as humans, but mine was horrible. I was tortured by my family, harassed by stupid morons, injured as I tried to earn my life as a street dancer.

No fucking one ever helped me. French people were racists and hypocritical, they used and abused me.

Muslims looked at me as I was the one to kill. I received death threats.

As I tried to work, I was considered an idiot and mentally-ill. Psychiatrists said that I suffered from schizophrenia and I was taken against my will into a lunatic asylum.

I was forced to take drugs which caused hairloss.

I was labeled a hobo, a dangerous person, a thief.

I was mentally destroyed by a so-called gay association.

Its name? Le Refuge.

I lived hell in Montpellier and that's the reason why I hate life and I want every fucking one to suffer the same as I did.

People belonging to the Refuge were fake, they did me harm because I suffered from nervous breakdown.

Now, I cannot stand the big white world in which we live.

I think it's the bad joke of a fiendish, delirating and mad god.

There's noone left to hear our screams, noone left for us.

 

If I could, I would blacken the Sun so noone could have light and warmth.

 

Everyone would die and this way, I would probably be happy.

I am fed up of hearing white people (whom I call leucoderm people) complaining about their fate. They have everything to succeed but still need a scapegoat.

Leucoderm people are stupid, they have all advantages, do not suffer from any form of discrimination.

And yet they lie, they steal, they do drugs, they drink to give a meaning to their pitiful existence.

I have no pity, no sympathy for them.

They make me sick.

They deserve to be castigated for their inner vacuum.

I am neither Mandela, nor the Mahatma.

I profundly hate mediocrity and I cannot give other names to leucoderm people than wantons, rogues, scoundrels, tarts, prostitutes, whores and star-fuckers.

Those people did fuck with me, for sure.

They did destroy my personality ... 

I have now such a low esteem of myself that I just do not know who or what I am. I sometimes wonder if my life is real or a nightmare. Will I wake up someday? And in which state?

 

Brahim Megherbi / Brian Vane / S.E.B