I want to thank each and everyone who has made donations to my blog, it is vital for I cannot write without stability.
I cannot write to the heart of why I am abolitionist when I am too triggered or hungry.
Now, with your support, I can see into the future and have the strength to know how my past is part of forming it.
So now, as I listen to special Spotify mixture of jazz, blues, Cajun, oldies soul, Blondie, JJ Cale, Bluegrass and rock ‘n’ roll – I will try to do my blog.
It is hard, for I feel like I have been detached when I was worried about my money situation.
I was detached to force my mind not to think about prostitution – the so-called easy way to make money.
Money is like poison – but without money the will to live fades away.
That is the trap that many exited folks have to live with.
When I was prostituted, I hated money.
I would only spend it on trash food and drink – forgetting that money can be used for fun, for education, for climbing away from hell.
I would throw my “earnings” away on one-arm bandits, on drowning in alcohol, giving it away to people who were using me, throwing into the river.
The money of punters was acid – I had to get rid of it.
I became used to living with little money – but knowing men may buy me anything – as long as I could care if I was alive or dead.
It was a world where detachment was survival, where not thinking further than half an hour at the time was essential.
A world where forgetting was the only way to somehow place one foot in front of another.
The world of being prostituted has no good sides – only to survive almost all the prostituted will say or shout they are fine.
The noise of the prostituted saying that it must be empowering, that it was always their choice, that they know they can deal with the “rare” male violence is loud because that is what outsiders want to hear.
That noise is also loud because it shut out for the prostituted their own reality.
A reality where there is no place or type of prostitution that can be made safe or be empowering.
Not when the purpose of prostitution is to make each and every member of the prostituted class is sub-human disposable sexual goods.
Not when each and every punter has the entitlement to do as whatever he wants to the prostituted without interference, without any sanctions, and with the knowledge his mess will be clean up until it becomes invisible.
Not when each and every one of the prostituted know in their hearts, that torture, rape and murder is normal – so no wonder they proclaim they are fine, as their lives are slowly being made nothing.
The concept of the contented prostitute is the one that the mainstream desire.
If the prostitute is happy or at the least able to deal with the life – then we don’t have to worry that our male relations, our male work colleagues, our male partners are raping, torturing or killing the prostituted class.
If we just focus on the individual prostitute and her choices, her empowerment, her conditions – we are consciously ignoring the elephant in the room.
That the violence, the fear and dehumanising are all the foundations of all aspects of prostitution.
That it is male entitlement that forms the prostituted class.
That male entitlement will leave no place or aspect of prostitution safe or empowering to what they have invented as sexual goods.
There is nothing personal when punters are violent to the prostituted, it is just the normal exchange of goods.
So it normal for the prostituted to block out that reality – and speak the language of the sex trade that they are doing well.
I am drained now.