Living the Death

The expression – “living the life” – is a romantic gloss on what it is to be prostituted. It is used lightly to make the prostituted sub-humans.

It is used to say we are a special species that feel no human pain, a special species that just love having sex with multiple anonymous men, a special species that does not mind being used and thrown away.

That is framed as living the life.

You feel safe and sheltered as you Other the prostituted – closing your eyes and ears to our genocide – you look for real women and girls who are having real suffering.

I have enough of be nice about the constant turning away from the living deaths of the prostituted.

You have the safety to turn away from our horror – we cannot as trauma is deep inside our souls reminding that we are only heard by the skin of our teeth.

Deep in our trauma we know and think every day of the many, far too many prostituted Sisters who never had our luck to exit and re-build their wonderful.

Our trauma is made up of the multiple voices of those prostituted women and girls who were destroyed, killed, thrown away and made invisible by not the sex trade, but everyone who decide that prostitution can be made normal and acceptable.

We speak out with graves in our hearts, we speak seeing how often we were a centimetre away from death.

We did not live the life – we were surviving living our deaths.

Each time a man made that the choice to buy in order to force sex into us – we were dying spiritually.

Each time a punter copy porn into our bodies – our living death came closer.

Each time profiteers move us round from one violent part of the sex trade to another violent part of the sex trade – we died inside.

Each time a blow-job is called whore’s sex – we fall into the silence of the dead.

Each time we turn on the TV seeing dead whores on a slab, seeing Happy Hookers, seeing yet more images of courtesans – we just die inside our grief.

Each time we hear that it terrible that there rape in war, but ok there are army brothels – we die in the silence of our rage.

Each time torture is viewed and briefly seen, but porn and torture of the prostituted is called entertainment and harm-free – we die inside our memory of deep terror.

We die, we die, we die as you make our lives into nothing.

We must be nothing, for the most important thing is that access to porn and prostitution goes unfettered by sights of a genocide.

Our deaths mustn’t upset your entertainment.

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3 responses to “Living the Death

  1. Reblogged this on gigoid and commented:
    rmott has an incredible insight into the way our culture minimizes the issue of sex trafficking, and her articles always carry a powerful message….

    Like

  2. Amazing post. I just love how you speak the TRUTH and untangle, untwist and unfuck the fucked up lies that make up the sex trade, everything is so backwards and opposite of the sex trade as “empowering”, “living the life”, “entertainment”, and so on. I just love your Clear, Coherent Speak — you reach into people’s hearts guts and set them on a course of action. How can we not act after reading your words? ❤

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  3. Thank you, and once again, you have reminded me why I am on this path that I have begun. Interestingly, I’m watching a charity show for the victims of hurricane Sandy right now as I read this. We sort of have a figurative Hurricane Sandy, a figurative hurricane Katrina, to deal with, it’s called the Sex Industry.

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