Whore – Ken Russell
Sometimes it feels like they just… they just want to rip you open. So I just shut up and let ’em do their thing. I close my eyes. I don’t want to see the hate in their faces.
They must have terrible lives. The men, I mean. Something must have happened to ’em to make ’em like that. They weren’t born that way, were they? Maybe they’re henpecked at home. Or bossed around at work so they feel humiliated.
They want to humiliate somebody back. Makes ’em feel better. More important. It’s nothing personal. I know that. They don’t even want sex, you know. It’s more like… like revenge. Yeah. That’s it. They only want revenge.
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Hey, what I do isn’t exactly making love, is it? “Hate” would be closer to the truth. I mean, it isn’t even sex, because sex has some feelings. I mean, if you like somebody, that’s sex. Well, I don’t like any of these shits.
No, there must be a better word for what I do. But I don’t know what it is. It’s mechanical. No feelings. I mean, maybe if you really psyched yourself up for it, you could feel something. Who wants to go through all that? I mean, when I was younger, I used to make believe somebody out here was loving me. But then I got to the point where I just hated tricks.
I hate ’em.
And they don’t like us, neither. I mean, really like us. Oh, they want us, all right. I didn’t say that. But like us? No. No way.
And you never know who you’re with. A total stranger or your own father. You just don’t know. I mean, they’re like Jekyll and Hyde. You gotta watch ’em ’cause they’re always up to something.