Gonna start this one off strong, because I spent the last ~6 weeks finally seeing all my friends. Nature is healing. (Everywhere except Japan, at least–because are US citizens aware of the rhetoric around the Olympic games and coronavirus going on in Japan? Or the rest of the world? Oh wait. I forgot we blatantly don’t give a shit what happens to the entirety of their population’s health. How could we…when we don’t even care about our own?
My bad.)

The educated hoes are vaccinated and emerging from our coronavirus slumbers of hibernation to frolic in the sunshine, bare our asses in thong bikini bottoms, and freshen up the tan on all of our cheeks and I am leading the charge.

One of my favorite people, we’ll call him “Citroni” asked me “do you just get angry and write?”
and like… fuck yes I do.

Some people get angry and murder.
Or ignore their feelings for years then snap and have mental breakdowns that harm others.

…I think I’m doing well with using writing and art as an outlet.

Citroni also tells me that I am a “walking contradiction” and I probably should not take as much pride in that as I do. (Keep ya on your toes)

The difference between the support I receive from my friendships and those I get from my family, is exemplified by the following: My mom was worried about “what will your friends think [of my blog]” and my friends literally asked if I’d ever seen Lucifer (I had not but I am now starting it), recommended that I watch The Sweetest Thing, and Citroni showed me “It’s Always Sunny”, because there was a recurring theme in our group of 3-4 men that I’d regularly go out with that I reminded them of “Dee” (solely because she was the only woman… I WAS offended initially). He explained the dynamic between her and her husband, apparently one of the main writers on the show, and why the vulgarity and honesty of her character was so groundbreaking.

This blog and “Zeda Grace” is the Sasha Fierce to my Beyoncé and they love that for me.

They also say that “I would’ve thrived as a housewife in the early 1900’s when I could just exist within the house and take comfort in the knowledge that I couldn’t do anything else.” So I wouldn’t feel so obligated to learn and do EVERYTHING, “just because I can”.

It’s not that I don’t want to “work”, either. It’s that I don’t want to work on things that don’t benefit society, disproportionately allow others to profit off of me, are purposefully indulging unhealthy environments and contributing to stress and reduced longevity or quality of life in a for profit healthcare system, and I just feel “safest” at home. PTSD is a bitch and I’m aware of the brevity and relativity of time. Being able to control my environment brings me so much mental peace.

Is it possible that my Maslow’s hierarchy of needs is plateaued at step 2? Security and safety? Probably.

Yzma was right.
I should’ve thought about the difficulties of life before I became a peasant.

I would love to not be so financially insecure too (I’m a progressive gal–I’ll let my husband work after marriage) and rent is expensive.

Thus, it should come as absolutely no surprise that I am very PRO sexwork.

I had a wonde...