Tuesday, November 13, 2007

Twisted into my head a broom handle

Okay, do you want to hear about my day? I get up at 2 p.m., then I heat up my food, steam some greens, go out on the fire escape to sit in the sun, do my feldenkrais movements, take a shower and get dressed, then go outside just after 5 p.m. to experience daylight but daylight is already over. I walk to Walgreens to look for a new spray bottle for my hairspray, since this one isn’t working and it's hurting my hand. I walk by the place where I have a mailbox, but for some reason they’re closed. I'm back home within a half hour max, but I'm so exhausted just from walking five blocks that I don't know if I can function. I make a few phone calls, I'm getting wired but it's the kind of wired that’s so edgy -- behind it is nothing but my eyes closing. If I breathe, then I can't think, which means I can't write -- I try to get some energy by looking at craigslist sex postings -- because earlier, just before going out on the fire escape I had this funny thought that it would be kind of hot to post some stupid straight-guy-wants-to-get-sucked-off type of escort posting and see what happened. You know my sex life has gotten terrible when I'm thinking about turning tricks again -- but the truth is that with craigslist I'm probably not going to be attracted to the guy anyway because it'll just feel like turning a trick. But what is up with the dressing-as-a-straight-guy fantasy -- that's one of the things I always hated the most about being a hooker. I guess what I want is some kind of scene, but turning tricks is pretty much the only place that I always did that, played around with scenes -- their scenes, unfortunately. But maybe mine at the moment?

But the other truth about craigslist is that nothing ever happens anyway unless you’re really dedicated to the email exchange, which destroys my body, and even when someone's feeling it I look at their picture and I can't imagine. That's what sex over the internet does -- destroys imagination, as far as I'm concerned. Oh, but the other thing is that just the fact that I'm thinking about getting sucked off means I'm actually horny, I mean I notice that I'm hard in my boxers just before going out to the fire escape and I'm kind of self-conscious about it. I mean I'm actually horny to get sucked off, which isn’t usually what turns me on that much, I mean not without reciprocation -- I want to do the sucking first! So maybe today's going to be a good day -- that's what I'm thinking, because wait -- the other thing is that I almost never wanted to get sucked off by a trick, I mean I hated coming with tricks, what the hell is this fantasy all about? Definitely a severe crash afterwards, that's for sure.

Not that I want to turn a trick right now, anyway -- I think I want to figure out my sexuality without sex work first, I mean that's what part of this fantasy is -- a return to the familiar. Even though I hated how much my sexuality was tied to sex work by the end of 12 years, I still feel like I was more present in desire. Maybe not my desire, but it was still desire. I mean I made it my desire.

So much for desire now -- there's no way I can function unless I get back in bed, 6 p.m. and I'm hugging the pillow again but so wired that I'm thinking maybe I should get up, until I really need to piss and I guess it's been 2 1/2 hours. Why does everything hurt more? My wrists are burning, neck twisted, whole body aching -- I'm dehydrated like it's first thing in the morning, and I'm freezing even though it's not cold out. I hope I'm not getting sick -- the problem with fibromyalgia is that it always feels like I'm getting a cold, but usually that's not the case it’s just the everyday-in-every-way pain and exhaustion. At least I don't have the sinus headache -- that's what I'm thinking, until I realize that I have the sinus headache, it's more subtle than sometimes, mostly just making my thoughts more difficult, twisted into my head a broom handle.

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