There is no alternative to the truth, No substitute for my story.
This is my story. The story of those who participated in the scandal. Welcome to my world, to see through my eyes, to hear and feel what I felt. I have lived my childhood in absolute loneliness; I did not have the luxury of even understanding it. After becoming a young man and understood the reasons of my loneliness. I realized that there was something rotten within me. Just like a gigantic ugly cockroach. I was convinced that if my inner ugliness came out and ensued, it would be enough to bring fate and end me.
My mother will abandon me, my father will crave to kill me, and shame will destroy my siblings. The loved ones will turn into predatory monsters seeking to destroy me, or perhaps throw me “from up high”.
I didn’t realize this by staring at a mirror, but through experiences, which satisfy and do not kill from rejection and mockery. Before I knew it my cockroach grew, the fact that I was male “afflicted with the disease of attraction to other men”
Yes, it is considered an illness among my society. The result of my failure in my male social performance was tested. As the sensitive child in the eyes of people, to a boy who was packed with a little bit of gayness.
I cannot deny that I am a mixture of anger and irony as I tell this story now.The anger at how much intimidation I have suffered and the Irony when I think that given the number of male and female homosexuals scattered across the globe, from the time of the ancient Greeks, had turned god’s throne into a vibrated throne from the sin of sodom.
Despite it all I felt my hatred for myself to deepen and expand, and my frantic drive to kill the cockroach inside me was getting harder and harder until I finally reached the real edge of complexity; the edge of death!
How come god created me that way? Why is he so cruel?
As I asked these questions to myself, others were constantly asking me too. The bullies have always existed in the back of my head, and they never went away, That’s why I can’t forgive them for what they’d done to my brain!
Later on, I was convinced I had no choice but to do so. I have feasted on all the pills I could find in front of me as my arms were soaking in blood, and i waited and waited for death before I was rushed to the hospital. They took me unconscious. My heartbeats decreased and my breath stopped. The cockroach did not die, but that was the bottom of it.
At that point, I was consciously and drastically departing from any friend or family member, either way I ended up alone. Nothing as a lie stabs at the essence of love and turns it into a tired social performance. Nothing like lying deepens one’s sense of isolation and absolute unity. I was overcome by my fear of death and that I am the 16 year-old boy that killed himself in a faraway land.
As I have been in the most specific detailed part of my life and have reached the end of this long text, Dear Mother I have not spoken to you about this part of my life. I am sorry that you ended up becoming a victim of a society that input the idea in your head that motherhood and education is violence and not tolerance and acceptance. I only have to admit that I haven’t been alone in this journey, but I have always felt lonely for an unknown reason. But to I can’t break the heart of my family who has died for my happiness. I will not tell them my truth and risk their health, their love, and their pride in me. I will cry on them the day they die with a double burn, the burning of their loss and the burning of their long ignorance of the most important story in my life, but I will not risk seeing them broken or sad . With them and for them only, I will live with that strange combination of jokes and lies that the Arabs once called “devotion,” devotion breaks you internally, leaves you physically living among others, and leave you empty. and after them and others, there is no alternative to the truth. No substitute for my story.
