december 21 2023

all men want is to fuck you like a wild animal, one way or another. their depravity and perverse nature turns me on. what does that say about me? that my pussy gets wet at the thought of being penetrated by that crazed look in their eyes? i try but i cannot intellectualize it. i have to laugh.

Last night I had a dream that I was re-braiding my hair, even though I had already braided it two weeks ago. I took down every single one, washed my hair and sat down to begin the two day journey. I’m not so happy about it, in fact I say aloud, “Now, why did I do that?”

I begin. I wake up.

I’m not really sure if who I am lines up with who I present myself to be. The public persona is tricky. There always has to be a line between what is for the world and what can stay for you. The more famous I become, the less I seem to be able to keep for myself. And I’m not really that famous yet.

It always starts off with the little things. 

What’s your favourite song? Your favourite drink? Where in the city do you live? Which one is your apartment? Was that you I saw on College Street the other day? What’s your last name? Where did you go to school? What boots are you wearing? Where did you buy that shirt I saw in your stories? Is this your childhood home? Is this your childhood friend? How much money do or don’t your parents have? Is your trauma intergenerational or fairly fresh? Any childhood sexual assaults? Ever committed a crime? Are you still gay? Who are you dating now? Who were you dating before? What’s the worst thing you ever did?

People just want to know more and more and more and more.

I yawn and turn over.

My boyfriend is sleeping beside me, soft, angelic. Still all mine.