Try honesty!

To resume it: I feel inferior and I am delivered by my sexuality. That's why I have to strangle to death in the noose. But this still isn't the whole truth! I am still trying to go on in hiding what has to be revealed. It's that I still fear your contempt. But I won't neglect your right to know who you are dealing with any further:
So how did I get it? When has my sentence been passed?
I do quite well know how. And I therefore should better express it.

Of course all of this is to find in the development of my personality. And it starts at the very beginning of every born individual. In my case, there was the umbilical cord wrapped around my neck.
And all my later life was not essentially different from its start. The umbilical cord remains wrapped around my neck tight, only that it's of emotional fabric now. I am attached by my mother's appendix to the world of her thinking, I have been nurtured with it and I still feed from it, I am a bubble floating inside her mind.

My mother is a woman, who always put her personal wishes and feelings after the necessities of real life. A life which is hard and without relief. And leisure always being the first step to demise.
In that sense she raised me. And she had quite an effort with me!
As i was a bad boy! I did things wrong all the time, I broke things along with her feelings. That's why she had to punish me as a matter of routine.

But there was more than just that!
I was a very egoistic child! And always tried to impose my will on her, even by using arguments to trick her into something different than her original intention. But she knew quite well there was no need for her to resort to such measures like arguing. There was a quite more effective way to prove me wrong:
She unveiled my dependence on her. She let me feel just how much I was at the mercy of her will, let me, exempt from her provision, struggle a bit, let me fail, all along with my point of view. And she probably wouldn't deny having received some joy from the scene: me creeping back to her, apologizing and submitting myself to her superior will, pleading “Please mother, excuse me for having been bad. I will never do it again!”, as soon as she wished to hear such a statement from my mouth.
Of course I had to repeat that very often!

Moreover, I permanently failed to acknowledge how much I occupied her. My weak efforts to disburden her only kept her even more busy, because I just never did it right. How much easier would it have been for her to just abandon me, to leave me behind, to my fate, or even fulfilling it by herself, terminating my pitying existence. But out of her inexhaustible generosity she kept on nourishing me. Despite the fact that I didn't deserve anything from her.
But it doesn't even end at that point!

Not only that I have been a miserable child and still am. I also threatened to become just like my father, and be rude and abusive towards woman. My father had detached mentally from his family and all related duties early. And she would never allow me to become like he is.
So she eagerly worked on suppressing any expression of manhood, taught me to see it as something disgraceful, something I had to avoid actively by myself and submit to females' categories.
Naturally I only failed once more, since I am male in the end.

And I could quite well feel my mothers silent disappointment with me, over my failed existence. That she would have been right in terminating my pitiful life for good. That this was in her responsibility, as the one who gave birth to me, putting me to death again as well. Even I accepted my fate, waited for the day, when she might finally come for me, placing me under a solid beam and stringing me up from it. Relieving me from my life in her unmeasurable generosity.
As much as she wanted it to be this way, and furthermore, as my mother, had any natural right to do so, this is still a patriarchal world we live in, and male controlled courts deny maternal law... She couldn't but let go on my miserable existence.

And here I am and moan: “Oh mother! Why didn't you string me up when there still was a time and place to carry it out? Why did you hesitate? Don't you really love me, still not having hanged me? Why did you let me wander this unwelcoming earth instead of relieving me from the pain of living?”