Monday, 8 March 2010

Open your Eyes or Kiss my ass

My life as a hooker was shit, a strain, miserable and yet there were times that were OK. It’s a good thing that sometimes I felt all right – otherwise I’d had flung myself off the nearest tall building. My over-riding emotion during those years was turmoil and disgust; hatred towards the punters but mainly towards myself. Yet sometimes, fucking a stranger felt tolerable. The guys weren’t so bad,some were good looking, and others were sweet even. And I certainly saw sides of life that I normally wouldn’t have.
Surely it's a good thing that I actually thought that some of the clients were all right and that they all didn't physically repulse me?
Otherwise, I’d have laid down in the middle of a train track waiting for a train to squish me.
But as I said, my overriding emotions during those years were turmoil and disgust; hatred towards the punters (often, the alright ones too) but mainly towards myself.

Do you think I didn't deserve to have a break during that time? Even while with a client? Did I not deserve to feel one hours reprieve for every 10 hours discomfort? Of course I fucking did! Just because I say that I ‘hate my past’ then go and describe a moment of humour or, god forbid, enjoyment, especially when referring to prostitution, in my book that doesn't mean that I think it was OK. It was not OK. What do you want? You want me bleed with sorrow each time I mention something lightheartedly?

Sometimes, today, I want to whip myself for allowing myself to have sex for money – yet other times I’m blasé and matter of fact.

Can you not understand this?
Can you understand that I am not a one dimensional robot and because I am a mere human, I am not solidly consistent with regards to surface feelings about many subjects in life ?

Do you understand that there are many factors that make someone feel one way about something during one minute, then perhaps feel differently the next?
Do you understand that sometimes I want to cry with shame about the person who I became when I was a hooker and used drugs, yet other times I find the ridiculousness of some of my past situations amusing?

I had a debate with a woman recently who has read Hooked. She also seemed intent on grilling me about minute detail in the book clearly trying to guage how genuine I am about my repulsion towards people such as Belle du Jour who have so irresponsibly tried to ‘glamourise’ prostitution.

Initially, I took the grilling well. In fact throughout I kept my cool. I was a little puzzled by her intent, but I took it well. Then after a few days anger began to bubble which is unlike me. I usually feel it instantly.
And now, I’ve realised and I have decided that I did not and will not be justifying my existence, past or present to anyone, based on someone’s inability to understand my story as a whole. To break 80,000 words into odd sentences that seemed to stand out as being ‘flippant and even imply that you may have enjoyed your experiences’ is to miss the whole bloody point of the whole friggin book. Literally, there were about three sentence she questioned me on. Now to miss the sentiment of the whole text, suggests one of a couple of things. The woman is highly intelligent and I'd be amazed if she didn't get it. She was either playing devil's advocate (she's a medie-ite) or she is :

1. Blinkered and a little naive.
2. Lacking in understanding. Completely unaware that a person who is/has been in a place of having to survive because they are emotionally fucked-up will never be consistent about their feelings towards the very thing that is/was destroying them. They must get through their situation the best way possible therefore feelings fluctuate within a given situation.

But do you understand that the person's emotions CAN remain consistent with their disdain towards the thing that is destroying them, as a whole?

What I mean is, I have never believed that prostitution is alright. It is worse than that – I firmly believe that it is hugely emotionally damaging and erosive for the women involved. I have never, will never and could never feel anything other than this – and those feelings I am consistent with.
Nothing, and no one can change that.

When one has to survive in a situation despite it being self inflicted, a person will often create many opposing attitudes as coping mechanisms to be used in different situations. But honestly, the fact that I am writing this post pisses me off, 'cos I fear that I may end up being coerced into explaining this kind of thing a fair bit in my near future – or maybe not.

I eagerly want to be understood but I must accept that there are things that other people can never understand, and although I can try and help them, ultimately they must make up their own mind. I am not their mother or babysitter. All the evidence will be there in print.

But, my friends, a tip: If you don’t understand my feelings about whoring after you've read Hooked then I won’t be justifying my existence to you or you or you, or you for that matter. Not when I have already given you a piece of my soul on every page of the book - and after that there will not be a pound of flesh to be had.