I learned the lessons from childhood that wanting to be loved and being exceptionally intelligent will not protect you from being horribly lonely, all the contrary. It will not protect you from thinking of suicide when you’re seven. I learned the lesson that my dad taught me, that to be loved you need to adapt, whatever the price. The price was two decades of depression and a ruined childhood. Had I known, I wouldn’t have learned the lesson.But not to learn the lessons is a lesson you learn too late. That one is missing from the syllabus. Too bad.I learned the lesson from my mum that life is cruel. I learned the lesson that women listen to men even when their ideas are shit, when she tried to help me but was prevented by my dad. I learned the lesson that fathers ruin your life and that of others, that sisters are mean and want you to suffer. I learned to run away from family. I learned my lessons at school and all the silent lessons I was taught, each and everyone of them, because I needed to be loved. I was exceptionally brilliant at learning the lessons. I was exceptionally loving. I learned all the lessons, but the love never came. Only the lessons. Now I know a lot and my heart is a hole. I am bitter and sad and the love has withered. I learned the lesson that beauty saves nothing, changes nothing, only makes grief deeper. I learned to run away from grief.I learned the lesson that if you’re a rich beautiful girl no one will take your pain seriously. They will project their hatred onto you. That if you’re an intelligent woman you’ll have to be ten times more humble and that people will put you back in your place all the time - your place is to be clever but no smarter than them. You have to submit otherwise they will hate you. An intelligent woman is not allowed to suffer, women are not tragic heroes. They exaggerate. I learned to run away from pride. Couldn’t afford to be hated. See we weren’t that different at first you and I, we were lonely intelligent boys. But then I learned the lesson, that you weren’t a boy like me. I was a humiliation-boy, to be used as a wipe for men’s masculinity, who penetrate and tear your dignity apart with their gaze when you’re just eleven. I was a girl-kind-of-boy whose inferior body is naked at all times, exposed to sadism. At first I thought it was going to be fine, and then I learned the lesson. The lesson that my life would be a constant humiliation and that I could either get used to it, or die. I got used to it. Worry not, I also learned the lesson that you will never understand these words, that people would always question my truths, especially men. I learned the lesson that as a girl being lonely means being a prey, that wanting to be cared for and loved you will be patronized and fucked. I learned the lesson that if you get in his car you will wake up the next morning with a deafening sensation of vertigo, that if you get in his bed because you seek warmth what you will meet is possessive aggressivity. And that if it looks like he’s being nice to your naked self he is just voyeuristically destroying your body and soul, and future, with his disgusting dick of despair. I learned the lesson that my dad taught me, that to be loved you need to adapt, whatever the price. I learned the lesson that if you’re nice and need love you will be raped for hours by an adult man. That’s when I learned to never let myself be vulnerable, that I’d always be lonely. I learned to run away from love. I learned the lesson that even the men you love most can be on the other side, the side of men, the one I’ll always be an exile from. I learned the lesson that sex is dangerous and it can kill you. I learned to run away from sex.I learned to run away from lessons, but it was too late.I learned the lesson that there will be no justice, only the hope of forgettance. In fact I learned to forget hope. And thatlife goes on, dark and sour, and that’s all there is.