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[Used, 605 words, Genre: Realistic Fiction]

* Image courtesy of Dirk de Bruyn

Edward had been used all of his life. It’s part of life. To be used. To be used for this or that. People use one another. You can’t really get around it.

And now that Edward had been used. Society could no longer see a function for him anymore. And so Edward spent his time in solitude, with ideas and nightmares running rampant inside his head. He was being tortured with solitude, people didn’t go to visit him, he didn’t have a job anymore and his friends didn’t visit him either. That’s because the world had used Edward for what he was worth and now he wasn’t worth anything anymore. He was like a lemon that had been squeezed of all his juice.

Sexually speaking, he couldn’t even afford to get an erection anymore, so his time that would usually be spent masturbating and enjoying the small pleasures of life had also been robbed from him. He looked around his room. Books, books and more books. Yes, he was an avid reader and enjoyed the odd book. But the real reason his room was full of books was because books were cheap. Books were cheap and that’s all he could really afford.

He was pissed off at everyone. They all thought he was some sort of arsehole because of his personal disposition. His anger and frustration was accumulated through people treating him like an arsehole and he was an arsehole because people had used him. “Fuck everybody!” Edward boldly proclaimed while nobody was around to hear. And nobody was around to hear because they were through using him.

He wasn’t actually an arsehole. If he was an arsehole he would be better at using people. Edward was hopeless at using other people. He thought it was better to be nice and friendly and afford affections for other people. Though, of course, most people didn’t think the same way Edward thought. They were in life for gain and gratification. They were arseholes. He sometimes acted like an arsehole because of his frustration of other people using him.

He thought about it more. They were arseholes, because they were like him, they had also been used. The vicious cycle of cunt-like behaviour continued on and on. In the end there was nobody to blame… It was just a vicious cycle of faulty communication and people experiencing pain throughout the world.

Or was it? Edward didn’t have a job anymore and because he didn’t have a job nobody bothered to visit him. Yes, there definitely were some arseholes in this equation.

Edward tried to masturbate. He couldn’t get it up. “Fucking arseholes!” It looks like he had past his sexual peak as a young adult. He was no longer a spring chicken. He was pissed off. Damn pissed off! He looked around his room. He supposed he could hang himself. That would be a fine end to it. But what would his family think? The only people that he would hurt in such an action would be those who cared. So he decided against it.

He had books. Plenty of books. And so he decided to read. He lit himself a cigarette. As long as he kept on smoking he wouldn’t have to put up with the arseholes for very long.

“Fucking cunts!” And it’s true, most people of his generation were cunts. Cunts and arseholes. A bunch of people who had used him for what he was worth and disposed of him like trash.

Cigarettes and books… That’s all he needed. Something to entertain him and as quick an exit from life as he could possibly afford.


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