April 2018

I didn’t quite end up saying what I actually wanted to say yesterday.

I supposed part of me is still concerned with being judged for my life choices.

But I am a single mom stripper cougar that drinks and fucks and speaks openly about all these things.
I can’t be that worried really.

Once upon a time, if my girls back home were complaining about not getting laid I would offer up one of my dick appointments. The girls always refused, but the offer was there.

I likened it to having a garage full of cars, I cannot possibly drive them all at once and you need a ride…go ahead.

I have almost exclusively dated younglings for the last 5 years. The idea of ‘keeping’ them is ludicrous.

And I got a gold star for sharing in kindergarten. Still that way, if I have something you need, take it.

And I continuously win the Cougar Olympics, I only bring home gold.

There was/is a bit of ego attached in there, as in, look at this beautiful boy I found and look what that dick do. I am allowed to brag.

There were some exceptions. Giant was often brought over to do man jobs around the house like hanging lights and mounting TV’s, he was handy like that. And I never did mind him wandering off to look for wifey material. Mostly kept my distance. He has a future without me in it. But I couldn’t share him with my girls.

Wolfling, Hot Neighbor, Drogo, even Cruz who I actually dated…all fair game.

Since it never came to fruition I don’t know how they would have responded exactly.

But again, the offer was there.

I just got an angry message from another girl who is mad at me, must be a day that ends in Y, part of it stated “You better watch your man.”

I don’t have to do that. I know where he is and what he’s doing.

The Nope fucks other women. I know because he told me. I don’t mind.

This is why I yammered on about accepting people for what they actually are. I know what he actually is, what he does, and especially what that cock do. Damn.

It would be a sin to take that out of the world and try to keep it to myself.

I met one of them…

Nope: she’s in love with me
Me: very aware of that…did you fuck her?
Nope: ya
Me: well that’s why brat

You can’t give girls orgasms like that and expect them not to fall in love.

You can give women orgasms like that and expect them not to fall in love.

And therein lies the difference.

I stayed as far clear of him as I could when he had a girlfriend. Mind you he kept popping by work and looking at me with slightly lusty eyes.

It’s different now.

Nope: how do I look at you?
Me: like you want to tear me apart…like you are starving and I am really good food.

 The best, he says.

Calls me Love.

I know he likes me, I can see it in the way he moves, the things he says.
He knows I like him because I get drunk and tell him repeatedly.

I don’t need any more than this.

Nope.

On a long enough timeline, everything ends.

There is no such thing as forever and for this I am grateful.

I live in the here and now thankfully.

My past has been known to suck.

I was married for 7 years. Common law, with an engagement ring that got thrown back at him often.

He was a cheater of epic proportions.

His main mistress was a competitive bitch of epic proportions.

We are all to blame here though. Equally.

I stayed. My bad.

I left a few times. Had a lover for a few months who was polyamorous. I am not sure if that is irony or just indicative of how I do things, the weird way.

Yes, I left my cheating husband and jumped into a relationship with a man who openly slept with other women.

Except he didn’t.

We split before the honeymoon phase was over I guess. Or he just needed to know he could.

It’s alright, I get it.

I was his primary, there were rules. None of the other women he slept with could make me feel uncomfortable in any way. I was a fragile thing back then, lived in discomfort. I never did have a problem, again, never got a chance. But he was good to his word, when one of them said something untoward he sent her away. I didn’t hear it, she said it to him and he just said “we’re done now”.

It has occurred to me that the sex part of the ‘cheating’ wasn’t the problem. It was the lying and the repeated open fire attacks on my self-esteem and my “place” in my marriage by both of them.
I had no place there. It was never my circus.

I have been about 4 different versions of me since then. I have evolved. All of that is part of this, I accept the past for what it was and I forgive myself for being dumber than a bag of hammers.

I will tell you one more thing I learned.

I knew husband was a man whore when I met him. If I truly loved him…which I didn’t in retrospect, I would have had to have loved that part too.

No one should ever get into any relationship thinking they can change the other person.

There’s a billion people on the planet, find one that fits.

I saw a meme today, can’t find it or I’d put it here…something about not waking up with a man but waking up with coffee was better because coffee doesn’t text other women or some such shit.

Let them text, why is this a problem?

Lumberjack was the worst offender for that. Got caught with me by his actual girlfriend and was back on Tinder the next day, if he was ever even not on Tinder.

It is who he is. Again, not my circus. And the only sting was his insistence that I was “his” and he was “mine”.

Had he actually been honest about being in a relationship I wouldn’t have banged him. I have a strict rule about men who belong to other women. Even if the relationship is open, I don’t want in. Not my circus. I have been on the receiving end of that and I cannot abide nor participate in the pain of another woman with a wandering man.

But had he said “hey, I am a man whore, can we just casually fuck?” that would have been fine by me.

Monogamy is over rated. See above where hubby put a ring on it and still fucked his mistress fortnightly.

Be you, be honest and fuck me good. I’m happy.

I am a human lie detector.

I have another gift, quite a few really, but one of them is only seeing the best in people and making sure they see what I see. I know what it is like to be torn down, so I build as much as I can. And this version of me, Sarah 10 point oh I guess, doesn’t judge anyone. I try to understand why they do what they do. I accept the people in my life exactly as is. How they were when I found them.

There is another meme about what a beautiful thing is it to allow someone to be completely themselves. It is magical, I see it often.

Especially with the younglings.

I truly do not care what anyone thinks of me. It is absolutely liberating. So I pass this along to others.

Roam if you want to, I don’t own anyone, don’t want to.

Be good to me when you’re with me, enjoy the moment.

Watching what they do when they feel that freedom to be exactly who they are and having them return over and over because of nothing but their own free will is a glorious thing indeed.

The van attack in Toronto the other day really hit home. Toronto was actual home for quite some time, my son still lives there and a large population of my tribe.

I spent a substantial portion of the day with phone in hand waiting for all my friends and kidlet to check in alternately praying the driver’s last name was MacDonald or that somehow it was an accident, like he had a stroke or the van was defective in some way.

Neither one of my wishes came true, my friends all checked in, then it got worse.

It has come to my attention that the driver was diagnosed Autism, Aspergers Syndrome as a child. He was incapable of connecting with ANYONE, not just women. I think the whole “incel” bit was only his twisted attempt to veil his condition and loneliness.

That being said and accounted for, this incident and travesty has shed a light on the fact that there exists a male counterculture cult whose main point is hating and attacking women because they can’t get laid.

Involuntarily Celibate. Incel.

Am I reading this right?

This is a thing?

Have you tried not being a spiteful asshole with a not so hidden agenda of hate towards all women?

We can kinda tell when you are a creep. Been practicing since we were little girls. Keys in fists, traveling in packs for safety. You are what we are running from.

Misogyny is not attractive anymore, maybe you missed the memo.

We have all had dry spells. I didn’t want to hurt men because of it.

This whole thing is beyond disturbing and terrifying.

Like I didn’t have enough reason to be scared of men already. Been beaten, raped, stalked, held hostage, emotionally abused till I let his mistress move into my house… I could go on.

Those men that did those to me didn’t have a support group for their awful behavior on the internet.

I did, and should have access to such things. I also have access to a group of strong wonderful men who are also shaking their heads and apologizing profusely for these … what do I even call them? Low males?

Like what the actual fuck.

These guys feel justified in this. Plotting random killings and mass rape. Patting each other on the back for stalking and hurting women.

I feel like I woke up on another planet and it is ugly here.

Yet another bizarre angle being taken here is “where the sex workers at?”

This guy killed 10 people because he couldn’t get laid. Ergo, this is on us somehow?

Um, us sex workers are over here being marginalized, having our main source of income fucked with as Backpages gets shut down, getting shit on, our profession made illegal, getting assaulted and spit on by society… I could go on.

Now you want us to swoop in and save the day?

A few weeks ago I had a customer pay me $150 to hold him while he cried. Like deep soul sobs.

He never said why exactly, but I think some woman hurt him.

I also had a dude wander in with all sorts of fucking attitude, entitlement and ideas about what strippers do. It’s not a competition. Chill Winston. I am sick of people who form some opinion based solely on one isolated incident and it becomes ‘the way things are’.

That mentality is dangerous.

Men do shitty shit, don’t blame all men. Women do shitty shit, don’t blame all women.

I have refused a dance after a guy asked me where the cathouse was, where the rub and tug was and complained at great length about not being able to touch titties in Calgary. He asked for a dance and I said ‘based on our conversation that’s gonna be a no from me’.

I have right of refusal always. I knew it was gonna be a bad time. For both of us.

I retaliate at work because I can. On the street I can’t. I have to smile when told to do so, say thank you for comments about my appearance or risk backlash. At least my work is a safe space.

I am lucky that way.

I am not a hooker for the record, some of my best friends are and I commend them for what they do.

I am in the slightly less degraded/socially acceptable-ish profession known as stripping.

Strip clubs still get raided, girls can’t work, get access to their belongings etc.

I have been turned away from jobs and housing if I dare be honest about what I do.

And now you want us to babysit and pity fuck these angry assholes?

I have right of refusal.

How about this instead.

We realize as a collective whole that women own their bodies and decisions on what to do with the bodies we are given.

We stop slut shaming immediately.

Legalize prostitution, make it safe and socially acceptable.

We take a good hard look at the fact that this country was founded by people too puritanical for England and the rest of Europe, they fucked through holes in sheets and stoned witches for fuck sakes.

We debunk the ludicrous idea that Eve was to blame for original sin. Throw out the whole fucking bible actually. Ever notice rape is not a sin and women are property? Ya, fuck that.

We take the stigma off sex and sex workers and truly embrace the fact that sex is natural and fun.

We actually punish rapists for the atrocities they commit, put Brock Turner’s head on a pig pole in town square.

Stop victim blaming.

Figure out how to teach proper sex education to cover all kinds of sex and consent and the pleasure principal.

Stop teaching boys that girls are inferior objects.

Stop toxic masculinity all together.

Just move over and let girls run the world for a while.

I am a sex-eater/succubus, this is not a secret.

Two things power me up, being in the water and ecstatic energy exchanging sex.

The water is too cold right now. And there was a void of the other.

This post is rated R. Don’t keep reading if you are easily offended by things like orgasms and descriptions of rough sex.

It’s also not a secret that I am a submissive. I gotta be on guard all day every day. Give me a strong, dominant man that I feel safe around so I can just let go and enjoy myself.

Any fucking time now.

Wish granted.

You can’t always get what you want, but if you try sometimes, you just might find, you get what you need. (Rolling Stones)

Oh fuck I needed that. I didn’t even know how bad I needed that until it was happening.

For the record, I always get what I want, and what I need. I have an agreement with the cosmos. Not always instant gratification, but on a long enough timeline, I am sated.

I was vaguebooking. That thing people do wherein they post vague statuses upon the Facebook. I wasn’t doing it for attention. Just leaving future me notes. And he knew what I was on about, so did a few others.
“If it’s all the same I would rather leave it up so I can giggle about it when it comes up in my Facebook memories next year.”

Springtime can be frustrating and everyone gets a nickname.

Finally got to come clean yesterday. Still not naming names, but everybody knows there is a boy I call the Nope.

Actually had a woman I adore inbox me the other day and ask me directly “who is the Nope and also is it bad I follow you like this?”

The answer is coming, and no I don’t mind at all.

I have decided to live my life like an open book. I asked for his permission and it was granted. I think he likes it. Bragging rights.

He’s earned them.

I have very few regrets in life.
I’m very aware that I could not be the person I am without all of my past mistakes and victories.
That being said…I wish I hadn’t given away the nickname ‘sex monster’ so frivolously.

Damn

This isn’t love or anything like it.

Lust and like, yes. Love nope. I know the rules, I wrote them.

Rough? Oh fuck, yes. Please.

For the first time in a really long time, I’m writing with a bag of frozen broccoli between my legs. And in this moment, I am happy.

My PIC and her bestie are currently prowling Venice Beach California. One of my favorite places on earth. I am simultaneously happy and jealous as fuck.

I am allowed to feel any kinda way about anything I choose. More than one way if it suits me and it does.

Lucifer Luu came stumbling up the stairs of the cathouse a week ago today walking funny and smiling sunshine.

There is something in the water here and these island boys are blessed in the cock department apparently. Skinny tattooed white boys with horse cocks. She got hers, finally after 18 months of nothing.

She has been dubbed a sex demon by our customer, and he is not wrong.

Poor girl was ravenous. I know the feeling.

She welcomed me back to the club of “can’t walk right”.

Oh honey I am home.

Oh, by the way, here is where it gets R-rated. Like a paragraph back really.

It was my turn last night. To stumble and struggle up the stairs, gripping the handrail. I held it together all day and chewed some Aleve mid afternoon. Been trapped in tight jeans all day (what am I? new?) and my pussy was screaming arias, in a different way than for the last few weeks. She just wanted the pants off now and an ice pack. Finally full, swollen, sated, happy sighing and trilling a bit.

The weather is double digits this week, sun dresses it is. I pity the fool who tries to touch me at work though. That’s a hard nope.

This was what we call a perfect storm. Been flirting for two months. My pussy was starving and I had just the perfect amount of drinks before he took me home. Zero inhibitions and 60 days build up.

At one point, rather early on, I realized I was in the middle of I’m gonna need an ice pack after this beast mode sex. But I was kinda tipsy and so fucking hungry for it, I leaned into it. I am a bit of a masochist, this is also not a secret.

8 years ago I had a boy who could make me cum so hard and prolific it would hit me in the face.

Yes, you read that right, he made me cum on my own face.

It’s happening again.

The Nope said he could make me squirt, and he wasn’t lying. We slept on a towel, had to.

There is usually a breaking in/figuring out process that occurs when you start sleeping with someone new. We seem to have skipped over that part.

“Don’t touch my toes.”

There is something beyond satisfying about finding a fuck monster with skills.

I am satisfied.

Here come the 3 o’clock pussy tantrum, right on time.

Doesn’t help I am getting countdown messages from the Nope.

I am already tingly in my princess parts, if tingly is a synonym for tsunami.

You could drown a toddler in my panties right now (Archer)

He’s just making it worse/better.

Him: How was your night?

Me: Got drunk.
Fell down and reinjured my butt.
Lost 70 bucks.

Him: Aw babe, I will kiss it better.

8 more hours…

I need all of me kissed better.

I actually let him rescue me the other night, out of my room in the cathouse and outta my head for a bit.

I fought him on it for a few hours. Finally caved around midnight. Warned him I was beyond sexually frustrated and I couldn’t be trusted. He had to adult. He adulted. Except we drove around this island and ended up making out like teenagers in parking lots. I needed that.

Went for a long drive, I spilled everything without crying, he told me his stories. He put on Tragically Hip and shushed. I touched the ocean. He picked me up and hugged me while my feet dangled. It was lovely and necessary.

and a long time comin’. (Tragically Hip)

My girl Liza is, for lack of a better word, psychic. She and I are tangled somehow. When one of us is tied up and twisted or unravelling the other one feels it. It’s pretty amazing actually.

We had this conversation the other day when Lucifer Luu came bouncing into the house announcing she got dicked down for many many many hours.

We must clap for the victories of our sisters.

Even if it’s a slow clap filled with envy. I am still happy for her, truly.

I asked her for a hug, hoping some of her good sex juju would get on me.

God it’s been a long few months.

I am a sex eater and I am starving.

I do not want to wait any more moons.

It’s been 84 years…

I actually almost put 2 and two together before I realized that there is, indeed, a Pink Moon in Scorpio. That explains a lot. I have already expressed fear that my root chakra is powering up with said moon, I am going to explode, literally.

Something has got to be done about this. So be it.

I have so much pent up energy all sitting in my clit and I cannot shut her up about it.

Jerked off 3 times yesterday and it didn’t even take the edge off.

She’s howling at the moon.

Lust has no mercy and I am tired of waiting.

Today is the rapture and the Nope is coming to get me. I am thinking it isn’t a coincidence.

I am like Oprah Winfrey, except I don’t give out Tupperware and cars. I give out nicknames. You get a nickname and YOU get a nickname, everybody gets a nickname.

And once upon a time, at my tiny little bar by the water oh my Liza messaged me out of nowhere and said “I don’t know who you are touching right now, but no, just Nope.”

I was leaning back on a tall drink of water boy, hands the size of dinner plates, devil grin, sparkly eyes and just warm strong masculine and really good vibes.

Still a terrible idea, her warning was warranted but…

We give each other advice all the time, Liza and I. neither of us really follows it, but we try.

I’m not following this advice either.

Truth be told he was an actual Nope, had a girlfriend, way too young.
The first thing stops me in my tracks, the second, not so much. But I do let them come to me, I don’t ask. I wait.

It’s been 2 months since I met him and asked about him.

I pushed it out of my mind.

But…

His eyes were getting lustier and lustier, and the messages more frequent, blatant and persistent

J. Warren Welch was right.

Add to that I am starving and he is suddenly and magically single now.

And I needed rescuing.

Liza and I compromised “Just warn me before you touch the Nope so I can brace myself.”

You have been warned.

Good point Greg.

But, but… the younglings need love too.

Stay away from those approaching 30, it is time for them to nest.

Do not get in the way of them wanting names like father and husband.

You have already been mother and wife. You have evolved past this.

Do not build a home here.

Be a gypsy. Pack up and leave when it’s time. Leave the place better than how you found it. Plant things, mend the ground, pick up the trash left before you were ever there.

Choose wisely. They will find you. You will tell them your age and they will light up like supernovas. They were looking for you. Allow yourself to be found. Stay still. They spook easy.

Offer your hand. Open palm upturned. Show them your throat. Acquiesce.

Let them bite and show them where you prefer to be bitten.

Show them your teeth. Smile always.

They will ask what you want. Tell them ‘nothing’. Speak true.

They will tell you what they want. Concede.

Enjoy the negotiation process as much as what comes after.

Passing on what I have learned. Protecting us from fallout that doesn’t have to happen.

I know what is possible.

I know the rules of engagement.

This has been “stolen” from Lessons on Loving a Prophet by Jeanann Verlee

http://thymoss.tumblr.com/post/55176318258/lessons-on-loving-a-prophet-jeanann-verlee

The idea, the cadence…all her. I take no credit.

One day I will write a book about all of this. Everything I have learned. I have sat in nail salons and coffee shops next to women my age, eyes lit up talking about some young one or another. They see what I am, kindred sister, and spill their guts. And I cringe. Oh honey, this is temporary and here you are believing in forever.

I do not envy the fall. I too have fallen.

Happily ever after happens, I have seen it with my own eyes but it’s rare and you are missing the point.

I learned the hard way too I suppose.

I may or may not have been built for this.

But I have been practising.

Back in the day, which was a Sunday in May by the way, I rolled over one morning after an exceptionally long weekend, looked at my phone and what to my wondering eyes should appear?

No, not Santa, it was May I said. And this was infinitely better.

It was Young Un the First.

There have been a few. I don’t know how they find me, or how they know what I am. But they come.

Some were magical, mystics, bestial and lovely and some were regular run of the mill fuckbois.

But even then, there was sweetness to them.

One who still wants to wife me. All still call me when they need me to be validated for something or other. They know I am safe because I am.

They are there when I need them too. I try not to need them.

And contained within all of them. Lessons upon motherfucking lessons.

One must not engage with a fuckboi, for you will teach him your art of war (some meme)

No no. Engage.

Teach them everything.

They sought you out because they want to learn. They will not ask anything you don’t have an answer for. Revisit memories of when you were young and understand them.
Empathize and above all teach.

Learn.

This is not war. Show them peace.

I had a good 100 days with Young Un the First.

Then I got greedy. I wanted more.

THERE IS NO ‘MORE’

Be grateful for what is given. Devour them, take all of it even if you are tired, stay awake. Feast when you can then fast while they are gone, they will be gone. Accept this. This is the only way. Let them go, they need to run and they will love you for letting them.

THERE IS NO MINE

You cannot claim what is not yours to keep. Do not try to keep them. Let them roam and come back to you of their own free will. There is more bliss in this than any label could ever provide.

Do not ask to be called anything beyond your name, so when they call you mine it sounds like the music it is. Only answer yes to pet names, do not call them yours.

Do not call them at all. But when they say your name, answer.
Do not play games.
Be present.

BE BETTER

Do not use your tears as manipulation. Do not use them at all. Cry when you are alone. Let them cry if they need to. Stay soft. Absorb the salt and the sweat.

Do not hide your body, flaunt your scars. Let them flaunt theirs, show them comfort within your skin. They will thank you for it. Enjoy.

Allow yourself to be shown off like a prize. Do not brag about him. Let him decide where you belong and where you do not. Stay in your house. Open the door when he scratches.

LISTEN

Reward him for every truth he tells you, even if it isn’t what you want to hear. You do not get to choose what he does away from you.

They will bring you music, whether on acoustic guitars in the living room or a song turned up on the radio. Listen. Let the song play out and do not speak. Listen to the words and the rhythm, this is part of them, they are showing you. Dance to it and show appreciation for the gifts and the insight. If they pull you close sway and slow dance in the kitchen. Speak with your hips and say thank you.

They will tell you stories of those who came before. About their days and their dreams. Listen and encourage even if you know its folly. You can’t save them. The only reason you know anything is because of what you lived through, the mistakes you made on your own. Let them make mistakes. That is why they came to you in the first place. Somewhere safe to learn. So teach them, gently. Keep everything in the vault. Do not use their words against them. That is what low women do and you are better than that.

THERE IS ONLY THE HIGH ROAD

No matter how young they come to you, some low woman has come before. Inflicting damage.
Rub the knots from their muscles, they are tired and sore from carrying past hurt. Carry it for them. Help them forget. Keep your claws retracted. Kiss them, do not bite. Some other girl sunk her teeth in before you came and left scars. Kiss the scars and promise not to reopen the wounds.

Keep your promise even if it means biting your tongue in two.

Be merciful. Forgive everything.

You can calm yourself, do not ask to be calmed.

Walk the high road always, do not stoop. Sometimes it will be hard to breathe, the air is thin. There is no cover, only a rocky path. Do not let them see your feet bleeding. Just keep walking, smile when they look up.

They will look up, to you, at you, to god to say thank you for your presence. Bask in this, let it keep you warm in the dark and cold.

When they look at you let the sun shine out of your smile at them. Let your face show all the things that can’t be said. Let them bask in this and be warm. The earth is a cold, dark place. Be warm and inviting, be soft and yielding always. Bend till you think you will break then bend some more and break anyways. You know you can put yourself back together anyway you please. Teach them this.

Show them what is possible.

11:59am
Someone is vacuuming the crackhouse carpet.
The apocalypse is nigh.

12:30pm
Double digits by next week.
The apocalypse is really really nigh

12: 46pm
Oh hey
Just realized I’ve been sober 2 weeks with one lil slip up.
The apocalypse is now super nigh and unavoidable.

Thank fuck.

I loves me a good apocalypse.

The Greek definition which means the revealing of the truth.

Tearing of veils and cracking of the ground so new things can emerge and be seen.

Living the same day over and over for the last 60 is no way to have a life.

Insanity is doing the same thing over and over while expecting different results.
Albert Einstein

Bring the change.

According to some cult or other, the world is actually supposed to end on April 23^rd.

I have totally lost track but this is probably my 9^th rapture. If I live through this I get a free rapture.

Cool.

‘I don’t pay attention to the world ending. It has ended for me many times and began again in the morning.’ Nayyirah Waheed

It does. Often.

I have lived through everything thus far. Kinda proud of myself actually.

Oh my Liza said I wasn’t allowed to get hardened by these things. I won’t.

“When I saw you stop the world from ending, I just figured it was a big week for you. Now I find myself needing to know the plural of apocalypse.” Buffy the Vampire Slayer

I survived my mother’s house, high school, rape and my marriage. This is a walk in the park. With cake.

Her; I don’t want them to hurt you ever enough so that you become like me.

Me; I invite this, I run into the flames mama

Her; I know. And for each burn you still stay soft and warm and inviting. Mine just turned to scars. Just don’t let anyone of them turn you into anything like me?

She is more me than she realizes. And I would be lucky to be a tough as she is.

As far as I can tell, we’re on the road to brighter hell, as far as any eye can see, you’re looking pretty fine to me. The Watchmen

So many people making decisions out of fear and not love.

And so many lies.

Keep your forked tongue behind your teeth (Young’un the First, Drag the Lake)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RTlaxpbIhgo

Yep. That’s my young’un. He has all the anger, I don’t need it. And he is way better at it than I.

I asked him if it was okay to put two and two together for the nice folks on here.
500 posts and I have only used nicknames, never faces.

Permission granted.

Fucking beautiful isn’t he.

Damn.

And the growling.

I am a lucky girl to know such beasts.

Snake charmer, monster tamer, devil lover. Yep.

When the snake sits on the right, the truth is always the anti-venom.*

So many songs, quotes and old lessons revisited.

One day a woman was out gathering firewood on a cold winter day. She found a snake, on its deathbed. The snake implored her “please pick me up and keep me warm, if you do not I shall surely die.”
The woman hesitated, obviously, this was a snake.
But in the end her compassion won out (or he had really pretty eyes and a pirate’s smile** or some other such sorcery) and she tucked the snake in her bosom and continued to gather firewood.
Once the snake was warm, he bit her tit.
She exclaimed “I did you a kindness, why did you bite me?”
The snake simply said “I did what snakes do, you knew what I was when you picked me up.”

In my version of the story the woman had been bit before but had a fondness/weakness for snakes and had built up and immunity to snake bites. And the snake never lied about what he was or his intentions so he is forgivable too.

I am the woman with a penchant for getting bit. I invite this, I know.

And I forgive everything.

I am still merciful.

When the snake sits on the left the truth is always the anti-venom.*

I am also the anti-venom.

Makes me valuable and rare on an island full of snakes.

So shed your skin and let’s get started
Hunters and Collectors

USS*
Elton John**

She keeps coming back like a pimple not properly popped. Time for pro active.

“Sarah L___ messaged me on the blog yesterday”.

My boss asked if I could block her.

I laughed, “Why would I? She just showed half a million of my followers what an asshole she is…in triplicate.”

You see dear readers, when I failed to respond to the first 2 attempts left by anonymous and badblood respectively, she left a third comment, on the wrong post, with her actual email.

Ladies and gentlemen, we have us a sloppy stalker.

But no bad blood.

So you’re trying to rub my nose in the idea that he wandered drunk into your bar (I knew where he was to before you messaged by the way) which is geographically closer than mine and thereby easier, and fucked you, which is apparently also very easy to do.

Any port in a storm love, and your harbour is dirty, yet available. Tyler said you weren’t worth it.

That’s the general consensus. Not worth it.

She tried, and failed, to bang a friend of mine over the last couple weeks too.

I apologize my loves.

There will be no more posts about the boy and the old ones will be removed.

I have never deleted a post before, but it must be done. For him.

Except the last one, about Persephone. She felt the need to comment. You realize half a million people saw that right?

I am not much for numbers, didn’t really think about it until she reminded me half a million people have been following along with my life for like 5 years now. They’re kinda on my side. Sis, you left your email address, this is gonna be a bad time for you.

I am used to this, but asking someone else to let their life be open like that is unfair.

I think it’s a bad time for him too and I’m sorry.

I promised to protect him forever.

Least I can do is protect his privacy. In retrospect, I shoulda kept my mouth shut.

I am still learning.

Nothing that can’t be undone.

So be it.

I have other things I can write about. Should be working on the next book anyways.

I’ve played tug-o-war for a few men in my day.

Never got me anything but tired arms from hanging onto something that wasn’t mine.

So, I am letting go.

I have no quarrel with her. I understand how she feels and a part of me feels bad.

I feel worse for him, so I am removing myself from the situation. That is what love is. Wanting the best for someone else to the point that it doesn’t matter if they are with you or not.

You can take almost anything by force or manipulation, except someone’s heart.

Took me a long time to figure that out.

I did a lot of damage in the time called before.

I have also, in my day, stayed in places that were bad for me just because they were comfortable and familiar . The world seemed too big and scary compared to the tiny cell I was used to.

Like how criminals reoffend if they have spent too long in jail because they can’t handle the freedom.

I get it, I do. Any port in a storm.

I’ll just be over here, an island unto myself.

Fuck, truth be told I lapsed a few times. Went running back to the cemetery because the ghosts called my name.

I understand. It’s what I do.

I knew where he was to last night before she saw fit to message me about it.

This is a really tiny island.

I was just relieved he wasn’t in jail or dead.

That’s enough.

Her insistence on announcing she had regained the high ground just serves to show me she is not as secure in her position as she wants me to believe. If she was happy she’d be off and away and enjoying being happy. Alphas don’t run around screaming at everyone they are alphas and picking fights. That’s beta behavior.

No war was ever won by yelling “I’m winning.”

This isn’t war.

You slept with him. Big deal.

Most people find it easier to flip a light switch than get hit by lightning. I understand.

I didn’t come here to play games. Just wanted happiness and peace.
And I just remembered, I carry that around on my own. I appreciate the reminder.

I compete with no one. Especially not her.

Budget Bargain Basement Sarah
Unreasonable hand drawn facsimile Sarah
Diet Sarah with all of the chemicals, none of the nutrients and a really bad aftertaste
Cardboard cut-out 2 dimensional Sarah
Why am I even bothering to write this Sarah

Because I can.

Because I think you want me to. Wish granted. I’m benevolent.

And after you get these 15 minutes of fame you have been clamoring for, I will forget you exist.

White flag is up. Do as you will. I don’t care.

I have been through worse.

I learned years ago when picking an adversary, make sure she’s worthy.

My girl had a boyfriend named Steve, he left her for a girl named Amy Raymond. We somehow decided we could never say her name unless it was both names spit out like tacks and a gypsy curse from our mouths. She was a thorn in my girl’s side.

I met Amy Raymond one night, months after the fact. Went straight home to my girl, shook her awake and said “Dummy, she isn’t worthy of your hate or another minute of your time.” She really was a nothing girl, not a nemesis.

I have had men run from me and hide behind cardboard cut outs of girls. They get brave later.

Or bored. Cardboard is…boring.

This one isn’t much of anything either.

Nemesis according to Snatch
Brick Top: Do you know what “nemesis” means? A righteous infliction of retribution manifested by an appropriate agent. Personified in this case by an ‘orrible cunt… me.

This one is a horrible cunt. But that isn’t what it really means.

nem·e·sis

ˈneməsəs/

noun

a long-standing rival; an archenemy.

I don’t care for the player nor the game. So I am not playing.

Retribution comes on its own.

Things play out the way they are supposed to. This is divine law.

She quoted me back to me, which only proves how unoriginal she really is.

It’s not my job to fight. I tend to the wounded, and its okay if I quote myself.

I don’t even think I could stoop low enough to try. She cheats and steals and lies and does a fuck ton of blow. Fucks his friends, tried to fuck mine, recently even. This whole thing reads like a bad soap opera with a villain that you almost kinda feel sorry for, but you can’t.

I don’t watch tv. Not my cup of tea. The reality of my life is better than any fiction.

I was brave enough to come here and that is enough.

I remember every word he said.

I am logical enough to admit, maybe I was wrong. Maybe this was a catalyst for something else.

Who knows, we’re just getting to the good part.

I am not worried.

Good luck and god speed little mule.

https://aprilcereijo.tumblr.com/

I am neither in heaven nor hell just now.

Limbo it is.

I miss my card girls.

Especially Tina, she had a way of calling me on out my shit wherein I would immediately sit up and pay attention and stop doing the self-destructive thing I was doing. She also pushed me to work.

I could also just look at her and feel calm. She is back in 8 days.

I love having something to look forward to.

I still watch the door till 9 every night, even though he pulled a mind fuck and showed up at 10 one night, while I was playing cards. I shook, but we talked about this. Tina was next to me and I calmed down, finished the hand and then another…waiting for him to finish his beer, and then another.

I said I was learning.

For a minute he was warning me about coming. I could text him when I wanted and he would answer.

Now nothing.

It’s fine. Everything’s fine.

Things play out the way they are supposed to. This is divine law.

Here by my side an angel
Here by my side the devil
Never turn your back on me
Never turn your back on me again
Here by my side it’s heaven
~Matthew Good

See also

If you are going through hell keep going.
~Winston Churchill

Both have valid points. No one is by my side, and it is hell and so I shall keep going.

Live through this and you won’t look back
~The Stars, Your Ex-Lover is Dead

That is all it’s been lately. Just a series of live through this. Coast for a few hours then cue the next round of fuckery.

This has been my winter of discontent. Even with Florida and Mexico, all I could think about was getting back here. And now I am here and the winter never ends.

Maybe Persephone doesn’t want to leave.

My girl posted this and tagged me the other day…

My Girl: We have to go rescue Persephone, Hades has clearly kept her longer then what was agreed upon!

Me: I think she loved the devil

My Girl: She does, she is married to him…they have an agreement,.. And I think they broke it

Definitely broken.

How about we just let her make up her own damned mind? Could we do that?

There is a lot of debate about Persephone and her place in hell.

Most myths say she was tricked with pomegranate seeds and her mama throws a tantrum every year when she disappears into captivity, we call this winter.

But I have heard others. About how she made a choice, about how she ruled the underworld, stood by her man. Was a bad ass, not a prisoner but a willing participant.

She was picking flowers in a field, minding her own business and found the entrance to the underworld. She wandered down on her own. Made a decision and stayed. And her original name was Kore, which translates to the Destroyer.

She was stubborn and she stayed.

He put Persephone’s thrown right next to his and, unlike the other Gods, allowed her equal rule alongside him. *

That sounds perfect to me. I don’t need to be captured or owned. I came here on my own. Just let me sit beside you and contribute.

The alternate story has her creating Elysium. She made heaven.

I like bad ass Persephone better. I have long understood that devils need love too.

I would gorge on the blood of pomegranates just to stay.

Wake up dead man, can’t you see I’m starving…**

So far it’s just been tastes, nibbles and empty promises of being fed.

Then disappear.

Angel, angel or devil. I was thirsty and you wet my lips***

There is a running joke on this island I find myself on that spring doesn’t exist. It’s not funny because it’s true.

Maybe I don’t get a spring because of the choices I made. I ran to warm places and when I got back he was gone. And I came here anyways. Maybe I am only 2 months into my 3 months of perdition.

And just maybe I want to stay with the devil. Charon would take me home if I asked him to. Cerebos is my lapdog. I might have found this place by accident, but I danced with the devil by choice. And returned of my own volition.

I know he does bad things. I knew what I was getting into when I came here.

All I want to do is sit beside the devil and make hell a little more bearable for both of us.

*https://sites.psu.edu/tetirclblog/2015/02/05/greek-mythology-hades-and-persephone/comment-page-1/

** Holly McNarland

***U2

Rumi says you have to keep breaking your heart till it’s open.

It’s fucking open. I should know. I broke my own heart.

That is how the light gets in, or out I guess. Cue the Stella Polaris in my chest.

As a result I seem to have activated the bat signal that brings all my old lovers a runnin’.

I am suddenly back on their radar.

Like all of them, except 3. Found some reason to reach out and message me.

When I hurt, they rally. Protective circle. Like musk ox, horns out, Sarah in the middle when there is a wolf about.

Here there be wolves.

Broken boys and rescue horses.

Drunken confessions of love, not so subtle suggestions from boys I have met here asking me to go home with them.

Nope. Not gonna happen.

I haven’t forgotten why I am here.

The boy is missing again and I am being comforted by ghosts in my phone.

But none of them are here.

oh god what am I doing here*

Oh here

Whoa here.

I said to my girl the other day “you are mourning a future that never existed outside of your mind. You created it, and once you realize that, you can let it go and make any kind of future you want. Or you can be mad and sad for a couple days and then do as I say.”

I have got to start following my own advice.

I broke my own heart.

She’s going through a break up.

Psychologists say the 4 most traumatic events any human has to go through are

Death

Moving

Break ups

Bankruptcy

I have been through all 4 in the last 2 calendar months. Including being down to my last $100 bucks. I have not been this poor since the beginning. It’s getting better, but it was scary for a minute. I’m bleeding out.

I ‘broke up’ with Giant to come here and did not grasp the gravity of how hard that was going to be. I was prepared for most things, but not that. The epiphanies keep coming and they are sharp like knives.

He drunkenly messaged me while I was cloistered in the monastery, declared his love for me, decided I should come home, but with the caveat that I can’t live with him.

To be fair we were talking about our doors always being open to the other so it wasn’t entirely out of context.

Almost romantic.

He says he’s coming for me.

We shall see.

My life resembles a romantic comedy directed by Quentin Tarantino and right now we are in the weird part, somewhere in the middle. I have no idea what is going on, I just trust he knows what he is doing.

Giant says I have come too far to deny myself the grand finale. He is not wrong.

Shit just keeps getting weirder and weirder and I am gonna tell the absolute truth here…thank fuck.

I am grateful for it.

That void that existed in February and spilled into March and April was taxing. Felt like January 473^rd for way too long.

There were 2 break ups to be totally fair. The Last One resurfaced late one night as I pulled into a hotel in Florenceville New Brunswick after being on the road for 14 hours and I could barely believe what I was seeing on my phone. I kept hope alive for a week and then I had to let him go. He said he was coming for me, I asked him not to.

It happened again.

I was on the wagon a week and I slipped off. Woke up at 7am yesterday with a righteous hangover and thirsty as fuck. Looked at my phone and said “Nope”. Got my water and went right back to bed.

Message from the Last One “You okay baby?”

When I woke up the second time, I’d convinced myself I had dreamt it.

Nope.

It was as real as any words are from any of them.

But when ghosts speak, I listen.

Especially when I am achingly alone and everything is fucky.

She broke down and let me in**

I invited more chaos. Let’s see how this plays out.

So we talked.

He left to protect me from the dark he carries around inside him. I know this.

He said I’m his lightning, I know this too.

I remember everything.

And that is how I break my own heart.

I expect them to do as they say.

I don’t need protecting, that is my job.

I would however, like to be rescued, just once.

He says he’s coming for me.

We shall see.

*Alessia Cara
**Fleetwood Mac