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