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My First Collaboration in Over Two Years, Could've Been A Disaster.. but It Turned into a Lovely tale of consent and comfort.
If you like it from the back, wait till you see it from the front. I get kinda real talk about my first experience getting #shibari on OnlyFans tonight. I also made a "Threads" Account this week. I'm only dropping one link.
Subscribe to my OnlyFans and see the full rope set. >>
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PRIORITIES
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I’m in a battle with myself mentally and I don’t want to be. I’m going to be happy. I’m going to get everything I want. I’m going to grow and okay maybe publishing a three book series based off what I was so sure was my own life story isn’t that bad. Maybe sharing it with another person who chooses to believe it was anything more than a beautiful accident is the tragic love story that solidified for me that I’ve ever even been in love before.
Because I didn’t walk away. The energy transformed and it was because of moments where I wept with someone who I knew was a made up character in my head, and realizing that if he was a real person I’d love him so hard he’d never question himself again.. the way I mourned over the choice of which character to let go of, and couldn’t simply leave that memory behind..
But the books over. I didn’t sell out venues, concerts, stages, multi platinum records. I simply told a story of the pain I experienced, and hoped it would help others like me learn that there is more to life than heartbreak.
Love stories don’t always have a happy ending but fuck have I always tried.
I was toxic for attaching and attaching an image to a face to cope. People are genuinely their own people and I never contemplated what emotional damage I could’ve been doing to what I was so dangerously connected.
Now I know it feels like to be alienated and have your pain broadcasted to the world.
So dear current self:
You’re not hungry. You’re in more emotional pain right now than the last eleven years combined. Conversations with my 13 year old self are blaring but honestly you can’t see that little girl with both pair of glasses. You’re not blind to it, it’s just she’s trapped inside of her pain. (Trapped inside these dreams of mine, just trying to get some peace of mind.)
You have the means to go grocery shopping but you’re too heartbroken to eat.
You did this to yourself. Like Donald said because the internet, mistakes are forever and if we fuck up on this journey, at least we’re together.
If the only way I can find it in my heart to feel enough is by carrying the weight of my heart in your shadow because I’m too dumb to learn how to get over it.
Then I guess I get to experience the entire eleven years of coping and learning and forcing myself to find the only happiness that kept me going in my dark days.
I’m genuinely gutted by my own thoughts and let’s be honest, it’s been eleven years and my heart still aches.
But it’s not about me anymore.
What does it matter anymore. People don’t read this and wonder if they should say something. And that’s exactly how he was so why would I ever expect my brain to conjure up the imagination to just say “okay. I can be fine now.”
I’m never gonna be fine because I constantly fantasize about how if I hadn’t chased after him, and went to twice as many shoes on that tour, I probably would’ve came home carrying joy. But the way I got kicked out of that festival because of some white boy calling a beautiful black woman a “nigger” brought the fighter out in me. No one helped as I was escorted out of that venue but I’m used to walking alone after a serious fight. Not until I get a chance to make things right in any way I know how but I don’t know how. I guess I’m just gonna shut up, mind my own business, and potentially scrap a project that could’ve ideally been another source of irreparable brain damage.
Coming out of retirement to allow my brain the time to create feels like it was a mistake. The wound is so fuckinng fresh it’s like it was yesterday all over again.
But like Mac said. Nobody hear me up at DEF JAM.
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Never get tired of asking God to guide you in the right direction.
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Lady Gaga as The Countess
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I think about you more than I want to admit. I listen deeper and really feel like I could be so immersed in the rawness in your voice that I’ll completely forget who he was and all this hard work I did to grow will literally become my downfall again.
I was so excited to see something I wanted so badly come into fruition. But please understand, it’s hell in the other side. At least, for me. I’ve been driven mad by the memories wanting nothing more than to cry. And at any point if you were really reading and following along, you would’ve reached out.
That was HIS fault. He left me there to go to work and I drowned myself in pain. I stayed sober even when all the voices in my head told me to get out of that attic and drop dead.
I get that it hurts. God it hurts me too. To wake up everyday and pray AGAIN, that no one harms you. When god, all he ever did was ignore me and push me away when anyone else could physically see us.
I felt like an embarrassment.
I still do.
I battle with my sobriety every night too. I never thought I’d question my identity until September 11. 2021.
So consider that it’s own concert.
Hopefully one day this all makes sense.
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i don’t lose hyperfixations they just go dormant until I hear something about it like a sleeper agent
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“how the fuck did my glasses get dirty when they’ve been on my face the entire fucking time” a biography
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Sometimes I find myself wanting to clap back. Bite at everyone who barks at me. But then I look at those people, like really look at them… what kinda life they’re living. The choices they’re making, the things they do. Compared to who I am, what I do & the way I live and that itself, keeps me humble. Misery loves company but we’re cut from different cloths, made from different sauce. The evil-hearted never wins 🙏🏼
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