Canadian whores
For about three and a half hours I read a thread of comments about a girl who whores herself out to older men through some kind of website. Canadian based, and she's saved around $30,000. She's like a neurology major or something with a 3.9 GPA. Is it bad that I've been ruminating over this for a long time?
I would really like 30k. And I don't know, I mean... I just can't shake the question... "What if...?"
Now when I'm at work calling people for money and I'm the bridge between alumni giving thousands of dollars to a major university, and I earn not even $40 in my own paycheck per shift. I teach private music lessons and I never look forward to teaching. I don't really like teaching, I don't have my heart in it, but I need the money. You know what I do have my heart in though? Sex. Promiscuous, indulgent, intoxicating fucking.
The most ironic thing of this whole situation is probably that this story of the Canadian mistress might be a total fake. I'd be idolizing a lifestyle that doesn't actually exist...but maybe it does somewhere... and to a degree, even if it doesn't...why should that matter? Maybe I just want to be like her, or the idea of her, because I find the notion of leading a life in secret, ...thrilling. That probably makes me sounds like a schizophrenic with a multiple personality disorder, but I think my justification for not being a whore with a mental disability is that I'm only thinking about doing these things, and not actually doing them.
Ever since I moved out of my old fucking place and into my new place in Davis... I've been...ready? Dare I say it? yeah. happy. Right now I have a lifestyle of alcoholic functionality. I don't get in fights with people, I feel good about myself, I'm foolishly hopeful, I have about $100 in my bank account, less than a quarter tank of gas, and I got a pedicure with my mom and sister yesterday while we drank champagne.
I may also trade my car in for this:
I would really like 30k. And I don't know, I mean... I just can't shake the question... "What if...?"
Now when I'm at work calling people for money and I'm the bridge between alumni giving thousands of dollars to a major university, and I earn not even $40 in my own paycheck per shift. I teach private music lessons and I never look forward to teaching. I don't really like teaching, I don't have my heart in it, but I need the money. You know what I do have my heart in though? Sex. Promiscuous, indulgent, intoxicating fucking.
The most ironic thing of this whole situation is probably that this story of the Canadian mistress might be a total fake. I'd be idolizing a lifestyle that doesn't actually exist...but maybe it does somewhere... and to a degree, even if it doesn't...why should that matter? Maybe I just want to be like her, or the idea of her, because I find the notion of leading a life in secret, ...thrilling. That probably makes me sounds like a schizophrenic with a multiple personality disorder, but I think my justification for not being a whore with a mental disability is that I'm only thinking about doing these things, and not actually doing them.
Ever since I moved out of my old fucking place and into my new place in Davis... I've been...ready? Dare I say it? yeah. happy. Right now I have a lifestyle of alcoholic functionality. I don't get in fights with people, I feel good about myself, I'm foolishly hopeful, I have about $100 in my bank account, less than a quarter tank of gas, and I got a pedicure with my mom and sister yesterday while we drank champagne.
I may also trade my car in for this: