Screaming into the Pillow

How do write when thinking is deaden?

I have away from this blog coz I cannot think, don’t want to feel – coz knowing my prostituted years is to know the inside of torture.

I have been writing to this blog for nine years, and still prostitution is very low on the list of human rights abuses.

Still, the prostituted are made to wait for justice, to be given a loud and uncensored voice, to know the true sense of dignity.

I suppose it has been about 3-4 thousand years of not having these simple rights – so it may appear ok to keep the prostituted on hold.

To not see this human rights emergency, is to give permission the punters and sex trade profiteers to continue the largest and longest genocide on earth.

Yes, I call the torture, serial rapes, mental abuse, suicides, drug addiction, self-harming, murders, and lack of access to being fully human a genocide.

That the reality of what it is to be prostituted now, throughout all known history, in every continent and part of most human cultures.

We have spent many centuries making this genocide invisible.

In the written word, the voices and knowledge of the prostituted is censored, or simply wipe away.

Most written word is the language of the abuser – the voices of punters, the voices of sex trade producers and profiteers, the voices of governments normalising prostitution, the voices of academia justifying men rights to destroy the prostituted.

There is a written silence that the prostituted are raped, are murdered – that it can framed as wrong, let alone evil.

In this silence, the genocide of the prostituted is made nothing.

The modern written word has made an art form of ignoring this genocide.

The language that I have to constantly is the words of labour rights framed by individual free choice.

It is a surreal Alice Through the Looking-Glass language.

For exited women, this language is a rope round our throats.

I am see language speaking to free choice connected to prostitution – the language that poison my heart, and cuts out my tongue.

Where is free choice for the prostituted?

Is it in the moment a woman is threaten with eviction, or has too many unpaid bills – and she think prostitution may be easy money?

Is it as the runaway girl is befriended by an older man and told if she loves him, she must make money by being nice to his male friends?

Is it after being surrounded by ads, photos, articles glamourise indoors prostitution, when a student enters escorting or a sex club?

If there is such a thing as free choice in prostitution is belongs to the punters and sex trade profiteers, not the prostituted.

All men can make the free choice never to buy another human for his sexual greed and wants.

Each man who makes that choice to consume the prostituted should be stigmatised – he should be classed as a violent criminal, known as a rapist/serial rapist, seen as a torturer, and too often is a murderer.

Stigma should never be placed onto the prostituted – always it belongs to anyone who buys, sells and consume the prostituted

Sex trade profiteers, whether male or female, should all be classed as criminals and should if sentenced get minimum of twenty years in prison.

Personally, I would give them all life without parole – only a small piece of justice for creating and profiteering from the genocide of the prostituted.

Yes, I am furious, even on occasions bitter – that the punters and sex trade profiteers are mainly allowed to continue their hate and violence with little or no interference.

Men are made invisible when it comes to prostitution.

But these men who make the choice to consume, buy and sell the prostituted are 100% of the cause of the violence done to the prostituted – they are fully responsible for this genocide.

But most societies make the choice to ignore this male violence, and say it all the fault of endless generations of dirty whores.

I would laugh at this upside-down view, if wasn’t murdering my prostituted Sisters everywhere and always.

Instead I cry tears of blood and sweat, at how I live knowing of a genocide – and scream into my pillow.

Only to be told, don’t worry so much, we get to the prostituted after we dealt with more important issues.

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