I need help. First, what do I need help with. What is my problem. Let's identify the problem.
The problem, of course, is me.
I need to eliminate them. The variables. The toys. The distractions.
Oh, the distractions.
I will never do anything but torture anyone in love, simply because.. they are not her.
My game is torture. My game is making fun of you for having a heart. My game is a mean little girl hitting a dog.
I will never do anything but crush your heart and play with its guts if you are stupid, so fucking stupid, to give it to me.
I need to be alone. I need to be alone.
I need to have a place alone.
I need to not be confined.
I need to be able to do whatever the fuck I want.
I will destroy all that stop me. I've broken like what, four or three hearts? Oh and that one guy too.
All because I'm not over her. And you know what? I left her. I am busy hating myself for that too, so you must understand my schedule is packed.
So please.
Don't let yourself be a stupid little plaything to me.
Let me live alone. Go away. But I don't want the theatrics. You have to just, like, poof! away, okay?
I carved someone's initials in my chest with some wires today while the person I lived with took a nap. Three letters on the side where my heart isn't. It'll heal fast, I'm sure.
Three days until I texted you last year. Four days until it's the anniversary of your death. I was your ride or die bitch. You did both. You always outdid me. I love you forever.
Kathleen Ann Murray March 4, 1983 - November 2, 2015
Andrew Franklin Douglas Finlay January 28, 1988 - March 2, 2018
Mila Avecedo March 3, 1986 - May 8, 2019
who the fuck am i anymore. definitely not the person who started this, but definitely the person i must have had in mind that would surface. i don't like this person you're becoming, she said. and now she isn't here, but i am. i don't know anything.
Right now stage smells like poop. The smell crept upon all the dancers. I thought it was a bad fart from Toi because I dislike Toi and she just ate pizza. It couldn't have come from Princess, so small, so delicate, so gothic and refined. But it wasn't me either, the smell was too foreign and I know the smell of my own butt stink. Finally Princess opened a window and confronted the smell, brought it up so all of us could face it. We all confessed we thought it was each other. We all agreed the smell was horrible. We wondered if maybe someone had pooped in a booth, a customer. It was known to happen, especially in the porn booths: someone into the video so much that, incontinent and horny, just decides to shit in the porn booth. This was even more common with people in wheelchairs, which I understand even less: it's like pooping in a chair that you have to sit in until you die.
It was my break so I offered to call the front desk. -Hi, did someone shit in the booths? -What are you trying to tell me? -It really stinks in here, and we think someone may have pooped in a booth. -Ok, I'll check it out. -Thank you.
And now here I am, writing this on break, because this is my life in San Francisco where I have reached a whole other level when it comes to crap. One, I have been on a bus where someone has shat on it. That is something one never forgets. It was the 38-Geary and 4AM. It was not a good decision, I know, but I wanted to get home and sleep. The man who did the shameful deed kept apologizing: this only made it worse, the fact that he didn't even do it on purpose. There are precautions one should take if one knows he is incontinent and going to take public transit. I couldn't even get off the bus immediately, for then I would be in the worst-lit parts of the Tenderloin at an obscene hour. I settled for stopping on Van Ness and hailed the closest cab. It was a pleasant ride: the cab driver had just started his day and was an optimistic fellow, telling me how he loved the City.
Princess thought that the putrid scent may have obtrusively wafted from the Hustler club next door, since they make fried chicken sometimes, but then there was still the issue that it smelled undeniably like human excrement. After a minute of serious thought, I told her that the only way to explain the simultaneously scent of feces and chicken grease would be that someone was getting fisted with Crisco. "Hmm," she said, while staring at my kitten heels.
Once a man was rolling a joint in one of the booths. The dancers on stage let it pass, we just told him not to light it up. We know that people use the booths to do various drugs on rare occasions, and we told him we appreciated the fact that he was at least paying for a space to do this in rather than using the bathroom. His rolling the joint in his tiny booth, however, made the entire stage smell like a delicious marijuana hotbox paradise. I mentioned this to Princess, and she said, "Don't tell me that! I'm a shop stewart!" I said that I actually didn't have any weed, and then she said that she knew that I was just kidding. And of course after knowing something incriminating about someone else, she has been nicer to me ever since.
There is nothing quite like inflicting as much physical pain on someone as he will take from you, only then for him to look back up at you with adoring eyes, thanking you, and giving you the softest, most delicate of kisses.
I want to fuck everything I see: that's the only way I know how to describe being 19.
This moment has made me delirious happy: Kissing Sadie (a short one, no tongue, but she has such a soft, wet mouth) and exchanging I-love-yous infront of two dancers that I find incredibly attractive. ZING! I ran to the bus because I had so much energy from that.
And. Last night I went to an open play party at the Citadel. I got there pretty late, around 11:30PM, so I didn't get any action myself, but I did see this incredibly hot girl-on-girl caning. Be told me that lots of genderqueer people have mohawks and I am finding this to be true.
So some creepy person named Jim who looked like Jason Stackhouse with dyed-blonde curly hair and a black corset bit me... wasn't into it.. walked away from him..
But! I met a girl named Jet. We talked to each other about kinky stuff, shared our piercings (my nipples and her clit), I showed off a particularly brutal bruise on my ass from being spanked by Be a few days ago, etc. It's so much fun talking to other subs.
Citadel closes at 1AM so Jet and I left together. We ended up going to my work at her request (oh! and the citadel has lusty lady cards! i love it) and going into a porn booth, live stage show, and talking to Fancy for a little bit in Private Pleasures.
Jet is the only person I've brought there that wasn't completely terrified! She was actually into it.
So we end up going to 7-11 for something to eat (it's 2am), she is constantly hit on because her nipples are showing through her mesh t-shirt and we end up parked outside my apartment for a while just talking.
So now on Tuesday I might go with her to seduce her Master back, who dumped her. I'm excited.
-- I've never seen someone I know as a customer from the Lusty Lady outside before until yesterday. And I saw two! So weird. The first guy recognized me and I just smiled and said hey, and the other guy.. I just told him he looked familiar and he said the same thing but I don't think it registered where he knew me from. Everyone looks different with their clothes on.
I have a few rules to life that I've kept with me since June.
1. Don't date stoners.
2. Stay away from any street, boulevard, lane, etc. that is named Martin Luther King Jr. Exception: Martin Luther King Drive near Golden Gate Park in San Francisco.
This is a new one.
3. DON'T DO ANYTHING AFTER MIDNIGHT, YOU GODDAMN STRIPPER-GREMLIN. Or any time you feel tired. Basically any time after 10:30pm-11pm at work since that's when all the late night shifts start. Don't do anything special. Just do your job. Don't get attached to custies. DON'T GET GREEDY.
One guy named "Ringo" (his real name is Eric.. he is just super paranoid.. but it slipped) has sort of become a regular. He's been coming to the Lusty Lady for 15 years (even though he looks super young) so I don't want to rid him of the theater. He'll drop money like a drunk cokehead who just went gambling, cuz that's exactly the situation. So that is nice. He tips really well. He's super paranoid and jumpy but he is cute in a way- tiny, tan, Asian.. he never even gets his dick out. But he keeps saying how obsessed with me he is and jfidojfoidjfs. I get all super loopy at late night shifts so my inhibition is low but I need to learn to be a bitch. At work. To the customers.
And then there is Nick. NICK IS SO GODDAMN PRETTY. He has eyelashes like a little boy, all long and that make his eyes looks all sparkly. See? that kind of imagery is only from someone that talks to SOMEONE FOR FREE FOR TWENTY MINUTES AFTER THREE AM. He was just like a real person to converse to so that was really needed, and I made enough in that shift to make it seem like I made extra time to make more money. He bought me something from my Amazon wishlist and a Kitkat bar. I didn't know people actually did that, which was nice.
The first booth I had someone tried to "adopt" me which just means be my sugar daddy. He was really into me being a lady, saying like "you have enough tattoos" (1) "don't say fuck" "I don't usually like girls with nipple rings, but..." He tried to leave me a ring and a set of tights but he put his business card w/ it and the front desk won't accept things with personal numbers on them for obvious reasons.
Last night I went to the Power Exchange. I needed to go out and 18+ things are rare in the City.
Um it was TERRIBLE. Desolate and so desperate. The air. Ugh. Like the Dark Days in Sub Rosa, meaning just lots of darkness full of zombie men who want to sleep with anything that moves. Rooms with porn playing. Rooms with guys just jacking off. Rooms with all sorts of themes, from jungle to circus. This guy who looked like Wolverine (I am not exaggerating, he definitely did SOMETHING every day to look like him whether it was make-up or dermal fillers... even in the dark his skin was grey) asked me if I was a dom near the end of the night, which made me really ... well.. I CAME THERE LOOKING FOR A DOM DAMN IT. I'm just a cute little sub.
Ugh such pathetic wimpy men, gross gross gross, no wonder I was asked that, I had my bitch-face on all night ahaha
The coat-check guy was really nice, he was like "I was waiting for you to come down here and complain about there being no girls" and he gave me some cards for the fetish ball nights which are more popular. There could not have been more than three cisgendered women in the whole place, including me. Transwoman, which were lovely, and men, which were really gross. :(
It was quite fun though just being like I'M A LESBIAN as I sat in a chair in the dungeon part of the room with my leather jacket on. When people sat next to me to try to get a conversation and just either telling them that or walking away when I had enough. Hehehe. A woman was being covered in saran wrap by a guy with a shirt that said "WTF" on it.
Made friends with cute gay guy.
But it ended up a good thing I posted about "the subtle art of simutaneously dressing for power exchange the muni" because I was invited by an awesome sexy co-worker to a more exclusive play party. Yay.
