Writing Inside Too Much Noise

I have not blog for some time. I have chosen a day when I washing clothes, phone keeps ringing and there are workmen in the flat below.

I will write into my depths, but it may very disjointed, and my anger may come and go.

I have turn on soul, disco, blues and gospel up loud to drown annoying noise, but no promises that I can stay focus.

Ahh, city life is so wonderful!!!!

I had to stop writing because I needed to face my grief, I needed to stop running away from my own past, see my past without downplaying it, or convincing myself that others had much worse.

In this post, I want to stop and look into that grief, look at certain words that I write and say often – but usually with detachment, or making it about all the prostituted but my teenage and young adult self.

Grief is the beginning of finding true freedom.

Grief is the opening of the frozen heart to a route back to light and compassion.

Grief is accepting the pain and terror of the past, and learning the vital lesson to end condemning yourself.

Grief is forgiveness of who you had to be to survive, forgiveness of the “bad” actions you had to do just to cling hold of life.

Grief could be the washing away of body memories and drowning out those who made you into nothing.

That is just some of the multiple parts of grief.

All I know is that grief is teaching me to see my prostituted self and to learn she was and is lovable.

Grief kills the lie that I was made nothing.

Grief is the comfort blanket that was always within me, just had way of having full expression.

I believe that to grieve after extreme trauma is finding true freedom.

But grief does not mean full recovery, or that the pain and fear magically vanishes.

It is never that simple.

I still have horrific body memories, still get terrors in the night, still cannot cry, still block so much.

But somehow grief holds my hand.

Grief is like a close friend at a funeral of someone who you deeply loved.

Grief cannot make all better, grief cannot end the aching hole of the loss, grief cannot stop the pain of not knowing what the future may be.

No grief is not a miracle worker – it is far better than that, for grief works inside your mind, heart and gut reaction to allow you to see reality and know the future will be slowly built.

Sometimes grief is a gaping silent screaming – that sees and fully knows what to be prostituted really means.

Grief silently screams at the knowledge that torture was so normal that it could be felt or known.

Grief silently screams that rape was so normal, so constant – that the prostituted mind can only label it as rape if she is on the edge of death or the pain breaks through her detachment.

Grief silently screams hearing the endless justifications that is just work, that prostitutes have a natural high pain threshold, that it her free choice to be in that world – hell, prostitution is always with us.

No wonder grief is a silent screaming when surrounded by the noise of lies and justifications that make invisible all violence done to the prostituted.

If that scream was given a noise is would shake the earth and deafen all those who make those justifications.

Grief is the part of all the prostituted that is reaching out for real love.

A love that is made solid, and given without manipulation or trying find other ways to use the prostituted.

A love that is not about re-making the prostituted into sexual goods – but seeing and wanting to meet all aspects of her, seeing the prostituted as fully rounded and complicated people.

A love that come from within the prostitute, a love that will slowly heal and teach her to be fully human.

Grief is the close friend who does not judge or speak for the prostituted, but stand by her as she finds what it is to be human.

Grief is that close friend that knows laughter is life, and encourage sick dark “jokes” to force life back into the prostitute.

Grief is the close friend who is not afraid of silences, or deep rages.

Grief wants and needs all expressions and emotions to come out – including those that are ugly or unbearable to feel and know.

Grief wants the prostituted to be whole and fully alive.

I am happy to grieve – always knowing how hard it is.


We Do Get Hurt

Again I speak to how language is used to hurt the prostituted class, and to keep us sub-human.

How many times do exited women have to say do not ever use the sex worker.

Do not say migrant sex worker, do not say child sex worker, don’t wrap our pain and fear in those words.

If you really believe it just sex and it can be framed as work – then I want you to be inside escorting or a brothel for six weeks.

I want you to know in your skin the dead terror of never knowing what a punter may do to you.

I want you to be inside the body that cannot have permission to say no even as it knows the sex act will rip into you.

I want to be in the room as you learn no-one will help you, or even give a dam n if you are dead or alive.

Is that what you call work, is that what you call sex?

Know that once you inside the world of prostitution, you have access to the language of consent, no right to safety.

Is that just work?

Tell me is it normal to go to work and know at any time and in any place you will be raped, tortured or murdered?

Tell me if you have a job, do think it would be normal if your work colleagues just disappeared on a regular basis?

Tell me do think work is like that – or is that not the conditions of slavery?

Now tell how you possibly framed prostitution as sex.

Is it that you think sex is only real if there pain and domination?

Is that when you have sex you must be dead inside, forget about your own safety or right to say no?

Is it that you have decided men will die or go insane if they do not have constant supply to sex?

Wow, you have a very low opinion of sex.

I do not have to live in the world created by the expression sex work – I want so much more for the prostituted class.

I want human to be made in sexual goods for the glory of the male orgasm.

I want no more excuse made to say that the prostituted must have “chosen their lifestyle”, so it is easier to just abandoned them.

I want no use of pimp language by academics, by the media, by those using the label sex workers to hide that they are profiteers.

I want to end the divisions between sex trafficking and prostitution – and instead seeing with a clear that the condition are similar, see that all are in the line of male violence and hate.

I want the focus to be away from the prostituted, and to shine an interrogating light onto the punters. See it their greed and demand that it the real cause of the hell that is named prostitution.

I want the punter to be afraid of punishment and stigma.

I want to be seen with a clear eye that all punters are doing an act of violence by making the choice to buy another human as sexual goods.

I want it to be known that the vast majority of punters will be violent Рthat is mentally physically or sexually Рto the prostitute.  For the punter see the prostitute as goods that he owned and has full control Рhe see no humanity in the prostitute.

I know I want a lot – coz I the simple thing that all the prostituted class is made fully human, and granted freedom from torture and fear.


Grief and Memory

My last post had to cut short coz grief is the thing I to see and hold in my heart.

Grief from knowledge of torture is so near to impossible to hold – I can only stay safe if my amazing supporters prayer, hold me or keep me deep in their thoughts.

This is not my grief, it is the grief of all who managed to exit the sex trade.

It a grief that knows the unbearable, a grief that conflates memory and linear time, a grief of knowing parts of our being was stolen and trashed by the sex trades.

We live with trauma – mostly we live with such extreme trauma it is the heightened levels of long-term torture victims, and higher than most soldiers who been in the front-line.

This trauma comes from the constant and extreme violence that was our norms.

But it also destroys our memory – we lose hours, days, months or years.

This is not just the violence that wipe out memory, but the fact that the violence done to the prostituted is very repetitive.

How can the brain remember each and every rape when for too many of the prostituted it is in the hundreds or thousands?

No, the mind will remember the most brutal or unusual, the mind may hold the “ordinary” rapes and see enough to know it was true, then say that enough to hold.

How can the brain remember the common tortures that the prostituted know?

No, the mind will remember enough to say the prostitute was not to blame, to show her how trapped she was, to say it was a living hell she had to endure – then say that enough, now learn to it never your fault.

It is the job of the mind to teach those who are lucky enough exit the sex trade that they can and will heal.

Healing is made real if grief is fully expressed.

It is so hard for the prostituted class to grieve.

We have been taught and made to know we have no access to human emotions – we are sub-human so emotions are irrelevant.

The pain of exiting is learning we are fully human, learning we have the full gamut of human emotions.

Emotions is a shock to many survivors of the sex trade – we have no idea how to hold happiness, we fear anger, we need to learn it ok to be still – and grief overwhelms and tears us apart.

We have so much to grieve about – for our grief is never just our personal history, we carry the grief of the silenced prostituted class from all time and every continent, our grief is now connected to all still trapped inside the sex trade.

It a grief that would rip the world apart if fully express or truly heard.

Our grief is constantly hidden, censored, made tame or put into words the prostituted find no meaning for their lives.

The true grief of the prostituted class is a revolution that must be suppressed.

Our grief see and has a clear picture of the cold heart of male violence. We know most male violence is pre-planned and done to make women and children into nothing.

The point of making the prostituted class is make humans objects – so it become if and when there is male violence, it becomes that nothing is done to nothing.

In our grief we remember what being nothing is – it is the language of trash, the language of Whore, the language of fuck-object – it is the language that makes the male orgasm holy.

So yes we have personal grief – grief of being raped into being sub-human, grief of knowing torture is common and always ignored, grief of losing huge parts of our life and memory.

Yes of course grief is personal – but as an exited woman I know I am always connected to all the prostituted from all time, all cultures, all classes, all background and all aspects of the sex trade.

I was told I was nothing – now I know I am strongly connected to some of the bravest, strongest and spiritual peoples that ever existed.

I am very proud to be a small part of the prostituted class.

Pimp Words are Everywhere

I have been away from my blog, coz I have been facing the grief inside me.

I have been away staying as still as possible, allowing in me emotions to grow after the deadness of being prostituted.

It is hard to stop and grieve when all around the language of pimps dominate.

It is spoken in all the media, it is inside most TV dramas or films, it is heard when resting in coffee shops or just walking down the street.

Pimp language has come to be the acceptable language to speak by most of the liberal/leftist culture, which sadly includes too feminists as well.

It is a language that poisons all those who are lucky enough to survive the sex trade and strive to build real freedom for all the prostituted.


This has become the pc way to speech of all inside the sex trade.

It is spoken without thinking, it is spoken as if it the only good way to describe the prostituted.

It is spoken sending daggers into the hearts of all survivors of the sex trade, it is spoken and gags all our freedoms and ability to speak above pimp speech.

Sex work/worker is a term that was formed in New York by pimps in an attempt to say what they did was not just legitimate, but also harm-free.

It was formed to make all male violence invisible, to make all forms of profiteer’s control invisible, to make it that punters are just misunderstood or all gentlemen.

Sex work/worker is the language of hate and slavery.

But the Left and many liberal feminists took the terms and claim them as their own.

To do that they forget or choose to not remember it is terms owned by pimps.

Instead they make the false claim to be in sex work is to build an environment of safety for the prostituted class.

But this is huge and horrible lie.

When liberal feminists and the Left imagine a sex worker – it is always the old image of the Happy Hooker or courtesan, that age-old male fantasy that hides all male violence and hides the conditions of the prostituted class.

It is the image/fantasy of a middle-class or upper-class adult prostitute who enjoys her life.

It is the image/fantasy that is not just indoors prostitution, but always highly paid, always doing any sexual act with great joy.

It is the image/fantasy that these prostitutes just love doing sexual act or having sexual acts done to them, that good women will not do.

It is an image/fantasy that is allowing violence in indoors prostitution to happen all the time everywhere – but the Left and liberal feminists can turn their backs on it, imagining it is just a chosen lifestyle.

The vile language of sex work/worker reaches it peak when everywhere there – under aged sex workers, migrant sex workers, survival sex work and so many other terms of hate.

It is the language that George Orwell would recognise.


I cannot write in full coz grief is all round me.

What is Your Excuse

I am going to the London Stop Porn Culture conference this weekend, and I will try to focus through the heart of my trauma.

In this post, I want to look at the many excuses made for the continuing of the sex trade. All excuses start from not allowing that the prostituted class can be fully human.

That barring from humanity is how all the sex trade works, so as you make endless excuses know you are making conditions for slavery, conditions for the disappearances or deaths of too many of the prostituted.

If you an excuse to make the sex trade normal, you have blood on your hands.

I write this for I am sick and tired of hearing apparently good people saying prostitution or porn is not that bad – only problem is people like me ruining the fun of others.

So you begin your excuses by lying about who people like me are.

We are moralistic, we hate sex, we are too sheltered, we are mentally damaged, we have no sense of humour, we want the police in the bedroom.

Lordy, we are everything that can be ridicule or made small – anything not to listen and hear our words.

The excuses are made so you or your friends have full access to the sex trade preferably as private as possible.

It is this mentality that against all logic and the reality of male violence works, that pushes for indoors prostitution in the false claim that it safer that street-based prostitution.

No aspect of prostitution is safe, or can be safe enough to be allowed to continue.

Behind closed inside brothels, in flats and hotel rooms, in sex clubs, in the homes of the prostituted – violence continue without interference, without access to help, without the knowledge that any cares.

No, prostitution behind closed doors is open to torture, to gang-rapes, to murder – it is too common that the prostituted just disappear from indoors prostitution.

So dream on if you think escorting, brothel work, being in a sauna, being girlfriend material is safe, or surrounded by managers who care about your welfare as a prostitute.

And to any punter who may be reading this, saying I’m the good guy for using indoors prostitution – I would never ever exploit any prostitute I went with.

You are exploiting by buying her as your masturbatory goods, you are exploiting by even imaging you have the right to buy another human just so you can have an orgasm.

I know of no punter who is bother that a prostitute is injured, bother if she may be trafficked or not, bother if she is under-aged, bother if she out of it on drugs, bother if it clear she being intimidated by a pimp.

Most punters love the thrill that the prostituted is being exploited, love the power of being yet more poison to rip out her humanity.

Punters see no human, they see a living sex doll that has no rights to consent or freedom to be fully alive.

The only time I can imagine a punter caring about the prostitute as a human is if he about to be arrested.

Most punters see no crime in raping, torturing and murdering the prostituted – it just a small event that they can move away from and forget.

That is what you are allowing when you make the sex trade normal.

The excuses come from a place of refusal to have even the smallest piece of empathy for the prostituted.

This happens all the time everywhere – those outside the prostituted class that see we are fully human are rare and need to be hold onto for they are part of the road to freedom.

I am sick and tired of being in an environment of so-called allies who can speak openly about all forms of male violence against women and children – but speak tongue-tied when talking to the conditions of prostitution and porn.

Your constant excuse is it too terrible to be spoken of – but you speak to the reality of child rape, of mass rapes in war-zones, of domestic violence, and many other ways men torture women and children.

But when speaking on the sex trade – it is spoken with great detachment and wanting “proven” facts, it is spoken by saying there must two sides, it is wrapped in the language of sex work.

You language become more and more distant – anything not to see that the prostitute is a human being.

Is it that you truly believe that there are two sides to prostitution and porn – but not two sides to child rape, not two sides to domestic violence?

Why do cling on to the fantasy that some of the prostituted had free choice and so must be happy.

Do you not see most women inside domestic violence would say they chose to live with the person who abuses them?

That the majority of rapes are done by men who built a relationship with their victim.

Do you think it is normal for women and girls outside the sex trade to self-blame for the male violence done to them?

Yet you make the choice not to judge those women and girls, or think it is true that are to blame.

But every day in most environments, the prostituted class are taken at their word if they say what you want to hear – that is they are empowered and happy – and ignore if they say it is hell.

That choice to not listen is part of the genocide of the prostituted class.

I will end here for it too hard for my grieving soul to write anymore.