Some call me Hades.
None of it was my fault.
HAHAHA yet more unhinged stuff from the Yank I hear y’all say. Oh, I’m so sorry, feel free not to read.
I were being watched over. My Dad. My Mom. McKenzie. My Dads English Friend.
All present and correct.
A G A I N
Pills. And an empty bottle of Whisky by my side, to go with the Tequila bottle already half drunk, still in hand. Casually half submerged in the tub, music on, steam progression as the faucets running wild. Daddy’s cutthroat already working a little bit on the reminder of the time before. Did he notice the spare had gone? It’s only a matter of time. Only a trickle, so disappointing, I’ll let it flow. And I lay. Half singing, half slurring, waiting for the inevitable. It’s always Jim. Jim or Lana that I sing. Eyes closed. I’m always doing this, not any more, or it really could be the charm this time around. Death bleeds. Peace. Out of my depth this time, it’s 2 vs 1. I’ve been in situations before, like this, and handled. Things were different in American alleyways, apartment blocks, fields of joy. I controlled. Not that night. And I had to succeed in my way out, before it got plastered over the socials. Oh Mr & Mrs X, you near did a right number on me. You were different to that couple from Reading that tried. I wanted to die. You near broke me,into pieces. I broke you. Both. Your mini story is somewhere else on here. I’m good. Always.
Eyes closed. It’s coming.
And I flashback, to sunnier days. Romantic getaways to the Bay. Hikes to the Sign, visits to Dockweiler, Vista Hermosa. The surprise you had for me at Central Park in ‘11. Dressed nicely. The Prom gown look it were. I were no match for you, at first. The strength you possessed, mentally and physically, stifled me. But did I not deserve this? I enjoy, this welcome lesson. You taught me so many “I told you so’s”, and I answer all your no mercies given. I deserve. It’s not as if I wasn’t asking for it from ya; I were always asking for it, weren’t I, from way before you came onto the scene and conned my heart. C’mon, it wasn’t the first time a man lay his hand across my face. But I took it all, took it, as I knew I couldn’t exist without you, without your love. I won’t forget Central Park. That footage. Because it turned you on. And you wanted your friends to see, and do.
To keep our relationship alive, you said. I remember. Relationship? Was it even that, to you? I ain’t worried now; today I realize it were just sex. Sex was my weapon before we met, I do the skills, tricks. Everything that period, those 2 hours, 37 and a half minutes. I bet you still have that film; does your new wife know? Honeymoon movie? I do hope you made your own. Maybe I will meet her one day, compare. Warning: I’ll seduce her if she’s pretty. You know my type.
It wasn’t the money, the holidays, the ‘me being spoiled’ that I disliked. I left, because of who you wanted to turn me into. Which led into….
…this. Led into all this. Now. Night meet. For night meat. DO NOT ANSWER DMS IN TWITTER! No matter how nice they sound. Warned I were. Ignored I did. Curious.
None of it was my fault.
I say meet/meat, but in truth, didn’t know what to expect from Mr & Mrs X. I did not know Mr & Mrs X. My gratification needed to be met. And I still have the right to a change of mind. Which I did. And they did not like. Out of their car I left, the shouting still ringing in my ears from them, my throat sore from his touch, the inside of my thighs bitten, scratched, from his Mrs. Was it me? I did not entice, I’m 💯 on that. The name calling, I’ve been called worse. I’ve been used to those names since I were a kid. Child Whore. My fault. My tears were real – stranger danger exactly. Never again, chalk that down to experience, I do not recommend at all.
I said no. They did not like. He did not like.
No is No.
Rape is Rape. Attempted Rape is Rape. Attempting Rape is Rape. My body said no. Sorry.
History now, a faded memory, to them. A reminder to me. Curiosity near ended me. I’m a lucky one I know. If I went through with it, consented, how would I judge myself?
We break. We
mend. We strong. We survive
Now, it’s October, everything is funny as hell, laughter. lolly-ing as I call it. Indeed is the best medicine. I’ve been laughing on/off throughout the Summer, and definitely over the past couple of months. God bless the United States of California. Lol.
I have noticed that if toxicity(stroke)gaslighting, is removed, ignored, avoided, everything is hunky dory. Strange that, yeah? I’ve come more alive, feel more alive, without the pressure that were put upon me. I didn’t know what you were putting me thru, but did you girl? Lonely times at night I would just lay there and think to myself, I know you’re worth it, you carry yourself very well, and make me laugh. And there were many bedroom hours, where my subconscious just knew as much as I craved you, and wanted you, I had to be cruel, so you could dislike me. To shove you aside, and cast away, like others before. It worked. And I’m so much smiling; flip around the sentence, I know what I mean.
June were such a long ass time ago, and all that has perfected me into the next stage of my life. Bought Dad vacation tickets for his birthday, he and Mom are in St.Lucia, and I’m dashing between my home, and theirs, making sure it’s not on fire. Can’t wait to see them again, it’s been a while.
Been forever, as I keep remembering little pieces, and trying not to hate. But I’m also enjoying life right now, so my enthusiasm for writing and sharing has somewhat gone to the back burner. Lazy ass cow. And I’m also making my money, both sides of the Pond. Importantly, I did say some time ago that I’m going to make more time for myself, out out with the girls, friends, colleagues, meet people, go to social events etc, and I have kept my word on that. Feeling more human, if one can call it that. It’s what normal people do, a co-worker told me. He’s right. I mean, this past week, I have cut down on the hours in the office, work a lot more from home, under a time limit, all regimented and strict, only allow myself to do so much. Lately I tend to work more late at night/early hours because of time zones, bearing in mind that my body clock was fucked a few months back anyway, I don’t mind this in the slightest. Love the Insomnia Club. Or Klub, if we wanna be Kardashian-like. $$$$’s rollin’ baby, rollin’. Yeah okay, ££££’s to appease. And in the climate we’re all under, times are hard. But this bitch gotta keep her checking account level sweet. It’s good, and on track😉 for my means, and my future means.
I haven’t been back home since the back end of last year/start of ‘20. They say it’s in turmoil. And the killings, are forever frequent. Killings, murders. Doing it for the flag some may say. These things happen in every State, in every country around the globe, but it’s all heightened in the U.S. Home of the brave, land of the free. It is sad. Everybody far and wide will have their own assumptions, and draw their own conclusions. I don’t really talk the state my home country is in, and the U.S. Election in November. And I won’t be getting drawn into that, I’m a Patriot. Patriotic to the core. I love my country. I love my flag. I have my views, and can kick off, and handle myself very well in a debate, fight. My workmates try to goad me, and at times, it all gets heated, and I casually find myself saying “you don’t know, you’re not a Yank, female and bisexual” and that’s me just being truthful, but on the flip, I sit and listen about their Boris, and air my views, points.
All I will say is #Vote.
Liberty needs you to stand up and be correct. Freedom requires you to make your choice count.
Vote America, Vote.
I break, manipulate. I conquer, stimulate.
I lust, educate. And work, humiliate.
Those sentences above, nowadays it really is how I see myself. A contradictory woman sometimes, with a heart of stone. I don’t need a girl/guy to take me aside and fuck me. I am more than capable of giving myself a real, satisfactory dildo, fist insertion (did I just say fist? you bad, bad girl) when the urge hits, like I did today in the office, behind my desk. Woman enough, to rip my panties aside myself, and get myself off. I’m a girl of 26, don’t need any help with my lust at all.
But, I am longing to be touched by someone else. Yes, in a sexual way. It’s been so long, that I’m forgetting what that sensation of someone else making me feel good is like. I miss the closeness. Maybe that crazy back in June were my way of reaching out, and looking for something, well I know it was. Earlier I mentioned about the bites and scratches on the inside of my thighs, I absolutely loved that feeling, but again as I mentioned earlier, wrong scenario. And I said NO. I could’ve let them carry on, could’ve lay there, and enjoyed myself, but that were The Devil on my side that wanted me to want them to abuse me so. And it were that Angel on my side that wanted them to abuse me so. Can’t win sometimes; sensible me won in the end. I’ve been abused; my abuse story is known, I know how to handle all that, I would take enjoyment out of him doing things like that to me as a kid, and brought all that experience into my pre-teen existence, and let whoever do whatever, as I’d reciprocate. Blame the BPD? Can’t be using that as a failing.
I nearly let a co-worker fxck me today, at work, because I were horny. Horny as a motherfxcker. But I came to my senses. Reminded myself of a movie a watched recently, Disclosure with Demi & Michael. I had my Friday’s best work gear on, as I had set out in the morning knowing I were gonna have this guy in my office. And I wanted to, really wanted to. Surprised he didn’t punch me, for leading him on. I would have liked it. It’s pain. I would’ve punched me. Sometimes I do think how I have survived so long, and got away with so much. Under normal circumstances, teen me would’ve been locked up. Juve living, and fucking that shit up, man I coulda been queen bxtch up in there. “under normal circumstances” – childhood far from the normal, but the realist thing is I truly did wind up okay. And I’m smiling again.
Coronavirus Pandemonium is rife, so the clients aren’t frequenting the building as much. Less crime out there, everyone frightened to go commit, couple goals working on their marriages. My files are pretty stacked, I have work here, and overseas anyway, always on the phone late at night, and our firm has just picked up a couple of celebrities. Yay, B-list U.S. daytime television “stars” – an upgrade from the last time. Who’s been a naughty so and so? So thankfully, yuuuurp, quite slow burning here, but back home, and Asia, money money, dis betch looks hot in her pencil skirt and heels, even on a ‘dress like a boy’ day, I still look, and mean the business. #AttorneyLife #LawyerLife #MyLife.
The title to this piece is called Sometimes.
I wonder, every day, who I am, sometimes. Who am I to portray that day, or the following day. Which characteristic will make an appearance. My circle is small, I’ve had to cut away most of the associates that I knew back home, disregard them. we truly were trash back then. And I know that in snippets, the past frolics will come and make themselves known. Not that girl anymore. I have who I need with me at the moment, and my social awareness is climbing. Brits can surely put the alcohol away. I have who I need back home too, albeit only 5. And my Stateside family.
♪ Sometimes you know you push me so hard
I don’t know how I feel
You almost make me doubt I feel at all It’s not as though I always listen
But there’s just so much I don’t hear
Maybe I’ll never be what you want ♪
Yeah, sometimes indeed. Constant battle that rages from within. Tomorrow’s another day.
November 2 anniversary is fast 🩸 approaching. Cut like a knife.