(no subject)
I went to work tonight at Platinum in Lexington and actually had a reasonably productive night. I started at 10pm and left at 12:30am and made my goal so for that I was thankful. There weren't a lot of customers but it was relatively easy to pull dances, particularly nude dances.
It's been a struggle to adjust to doing nude private dances after years of doing only topless. There's something about being completely naked that makes me feel...vulnerable, I guess is the word. And since I'm not sexually active the effect is amplified as I don't get to share my body with someone I love, let alone a series of total strangers. Fortunately they aren't allowed to touch (for the most part) so that's a nice break from the constant grinding and breast clutching that is so prevalent in topless bars. Just the same, it's hard to drag myself into work each night knowing that in order to stay afloat, to even keep my head above water, I have to keep stripping. I have to work in a strip club every day.
When I review my life, I think though that there could have been worse outcomes. If my choices had been different I could have had a child right now, about the age of two, and I'd have been living with a man I didn't love or after a time even like (possibly married), pissing time away working minimum wage and living with his parents. It could have happened that way. And because it didn't, I'm thankful for that also.
I could have dated any one of the millionaires who have crossed my path and thus I could be fucking a man I didn't love for the gluttonous luxury of eating at five star restaurants every night and making a hobby out of shopping for Prada. But giving my body to someone in that way and to that end was never something I was capable of, despite how often it would have been the easiest way. So I'm broke and homeless and giving nude dances in Kentucky instead.
There are hundreds of permutations and obviously my priorities are off. But what I mean to say, to myself as this is a journal, is that I can't complain too much about where I stand. I am the free-est person I know and though loneliness can sometimes feel the weight of a world, I can go anywhere and be anyone in any city. I can be anonymous and without the burden of a history or obligation to anyone. There is no one to miss me or mourn for me, no one I support or who is dependent even upon my presence or love. I am in every sense and essence of the word--single. Singular. Alone.
And it is simultaneously both the most extraordinary and devastating reality, if that is comprehensible.
It's been a struggle to adjust to doing nude private dances after years of doing only topless. There's something about being completely naked that makes me feel...vulnerable, I guess is the word. And since I'm not sexually active the effect is amplified as I don't get to share my body with someone I love, let alone a series of total strangers. Fortunately they aren't allowed to touch (for the most part) so that's a nice break from the constant grinding and breast clutching that is so prevalent in topless bars. Just the same, it's hard to drag myself into work each night knowing that in order to stay afloat, to even keep my head above water, I have to keep stripping. I have to work in a strip club every day.
When I review my life, I think though that there could have been worse outcomes. If my choices had been different I could have had a child right now, about the age of two, and I'd have been living with a man I didn't love or after a time even like (possibly married), pissing time away working minimum wage and living with his parents. It could have happened that way. And because it didn't, I'm thankful for that also.
I could have dated any one of the millionaires who have crossed my path and thus I could be fucking a man I didn't love for the gluttonous luxury of eating at five star restaurants every night and making a hobby out of shopping for Prada. But giving my body to someone in that way and to that end was never something I was capable of, despite how often it would have been the easiest way. So I'm broke and homeless and giving nude dances in Kentucky instead.
There are hundreds of permutations and obviously my priorities are off. But what I mean to say, to myself as this is a journal, is that I can't complain too much about where I stand. I am the free-est person I know and though loneliness can sometimes feel the weight of a world, I can go anywhere and be anyone in any city. I can be anonymous and without the burden of a history or obligation to anyone. There is no one to miss me or mourn for me, no one I support or who is dependent even upon my presence or love. I am in every sense and essence of the word--single. Singular. Alone.
And it is simultaneously both the most extraordinary and devastating reality, if that is comprehensible.