First Prelude: Grief

I want you all to fuck me.

I want you to fuck me, and I want you to fuck me, and I want you to fuck me, and I want you to fuck me, and I want you to fuck me, and I want you to fuck me, and I want you to fuck me, and I want you to fuck me, and I want you to fuck me, and I want you to fuck me and you get the idea. I want you all to fuck me.

I want you all to chain me up against a wall and use me. Do me. Do me

until there is nothing left of me to do. Do me until there isn’t anyone to do it to.

Is that something you can do?

I want Cathy Brennan to fuck me while she screams transphobic slurs. I want Donald Trump to tell me he will make America great again as he pounds my ass – as he pays a Mexican trans sex worker to pound my ass, all the while averring that he is ‘the best at fucking, and I’ve got advice from some of the, some of the top fuckers out there and let me tell you, this is going to be one Hell of a fuck’, I want Hillary Clinton to fuck me in the ass and tell me why three strikes and mandatory minimum sentences were needed, I want David Cameron to fuck my ass like a dead pig’s head and say he cares. I want Governor Pat McRory to fuck me in a bathroom he tells me I have no right to be in.

I want to be fucked by an orc chick. I want to be fucked over the event horizon of a black hole. I want to be fucked by myself from the darkest timeline. I want to be fucked, on stage, by Diamanda Galas. I want to be fucked in the alleyway behind the cathedral where we smoked weed, for money. I want to be fucked in my flat for money. I want to be fucked in my flat for money by so many people I wind up evicted.

I want you to fuck the baby I can’t have into me, then fuck me so hard you abort it.

I want the trans man I saw try to mansplain a free pride to one of its organisers to fuck me. I want the handsy cis gay man who threw a drink over me on the terrace of Manchester G.A.Y. to fuck me. I want the four skinheads who groped my tits in the woods that day to fuck me. I want everyone who’s given me a bad review to fuck me.

I want the woman who raped me to fuck me. Because she has to. Because she is one of you. Because some of you know her. And you all know each other. And you are all going to fuck me.

I want you to understand that there is going to be a point during all this when my survival instinct is going to take over. A point where I am going to start screaming and pleading and demanding that you stop, a point when I will try and fight back, and I want you to promise me you will ignore that. Ignore that and plough on, despite what I might say to make you stop, in spite of my increasingly feeble attempts to fight you off, I do not want you to stop even after I slip into learned helplessness and simply let it happen. I want you to keep going and going and going until I am a fucked-apart dead thing and then I want you to grind my corpse to powder. I want the life fucked out of me.

 I want you all to fuck me.

(with apologies to Brad Neely for stealing the phrase ‘fucked-apart dead thing’)