Im listening to Wild Thing, you know the one by Tone Loc that makes you bodyroll like some kind of salt n pepa throwback * bodyroll *
BF just did the stomp ( dance move invented by bobby brown) down the hallway - it's official - dagginess is catching.
Who am I talking to ? It's like when you record yourself singing and you have to say test one two, not sure why but it always sounds so ridiculous. That's how I feel when I address myself in this log. Here goes nothing.
My lastest post was a little bit of light shedding. I mean, I dont wont to bog you down with the contradiction that is the Princess Excess experience.
Picture the idea of a plant.
I have come from a seedy place of stale sweat and frustration, blossomed onto the colourful palette of mishap and adventure, softened the ground of sober intrepidation with an ocean of tears, and probably making a fresh start from this deep earth.
But its the small shoots of hope that I intend to nuture here. My first attempts to record the whole journey whilst I stay green and healthy, blowing in the warm breeze of recollection, not torn in a cold icy wind that blows from unknown places - yet ruins all the same.
So my log is like my potplant , you the soil and I the seed.
May we grow together.
When people ask about what happened " that time ago" they seem morbidly fascinated. They know it is rude to ask, it is not unlike driving past a ar accident and ogling the bloody and exposed victims. They just want to know what happened.
So do I sometimes . But i cant supersize it into a lunchbreak conversation, I cant email you my story, I cannot tell you before we drift off to sleep. I just can't begin something I don't know how to stop.
I think when people say I was addicted to drugs and then name heroin , people go ashen.
Then when you further add that you were an escort, interest piques. There are so many angles and mental pictures people draw. Not all of them are educated !
So here we are , filling in the blanks. Growing Up.
I was inspired to write my log since happening across Belle De Jour's fabulous log. A wonderful delicate flower and I draw some similarities. Thank you for your inspiration and courage.
However yet different as people are.
I am not an escort anymore. I'm not bitter about my past. I don't blame anyone for my drug habit. I didnt't beg , steal and I tried to lie minimally. Coping mechanisms die hard.
I dont hate men. I adore life. I'm not and have never been lonely. I'm not a battler. I am an experience I suppose. I am just a girl trying to find her way in the wide world.
It's a choice some girls can make easier than others.
It is not who you are, just what you can be at that moment.
Is it an art ? The rewiring of emotional connection ( note i do not say disconnection) and the servitude of physical intimacy - all the while managing the money and implications of it , of one of the highest paid occupations in the free world. And you do this without a Harvard Degree ? Ok well some of us do have degrees ;)
I don't think the oldest profession has a workplace health and safety workbook or a code of ethics that is universal.
Its more common sense. And a tonne of luck.
I think the subject of professional escort accompanies "political bitching" about some escorts threatening the industry due to drug abuse and associated unsafe conduct.
I do conceed there are health issues with drug abuse and the laxness of some WG who give the industry a bad name. But let's not generalise. I also have a very important story, where education is key. I'm not here to defend prostitution. This institution of money will buy anything a man wants , is bigger than me and you, and definately bigger than this blog.
Supply and Demand are my two evil stepsisters.
If we blacklist these drug-disabled escorts and not talk about a large percentage of girls who actually do this, if we keep them in the dark , pretend to not to notice they exist - are we doing any better for society than they are?
And if you dare think - this may not effect you.
Dare think twice. With few exception to my experience, A Man can be easily tamed for the quick thrill of buying with common money, the thoughts he rarely has in reality. Wrap it in a clean, willing and discreet package and come for a swim in the endless worldwide stream that is prostitution. A endless flow of money, time and sexuality all in bountiful supply.
I should forwarn that this log is not for the fainthearted. It will challenge your beliefs, make you laugh, cry, think and think deeper. And for the record. I am very, very real.
I completed high school and attended university. I am mid twenties. Not jaded.
I have a "normal" ( scratch that - what the fuck is a normal family *)
I have always have large amounts of friends and positive outlook.
Heroin does not discriminate.
Join me on this journey and feel free to ask me anything you wish to know about me or anything I have wrote.