Writing this blog is very tough.
I try to connect to my words, but the more power in them, the more detached I get.
This blog is read all over the world, and I have only been to Europe and many American states.
I know my readership is beyond my counting, even in the early stages of this blog more readers than my mind can factor in.
All this is very surreal to me, especially as I live a very uninteresting lifestyle.
I choose to live with as few excitements as possible – for an interesting life can be a curse.
I like to be ordinary, like to go under the radar.
But this blog is the part of my soul, my lonely Self wanting publicity and some kind of purpose for a better future.
I write because it is the role I choose to live.
I write coz to survive prostitution is carry ghosts that demand a voice.
I write because silence is a living death.
Many of readers say this blog help give some voices to the prostituted who cannot speak out.
The prostituted who layer on layer on layer are dead from murder, suicide or unable to survive.
The prostituted who have been made to disappear – maybe into worst aspects of the sex trade, maybe into a silence made of too many memories, made bones pile on bones.
The prostituted made silent by torture of their minds and bodies.
The prostituted with no friends, no allies, no loving relatives and no support to express their pain to.
I hope with every ache of my heart, my blog is part of many exited women giving some words to this deadly silence.
In this blog, I try to speak to complex trauma.
I try to find a language that reaches in fragmented memory.
I try to find a language that reaches into the silence of the tortured, without it being framed by the torturer.
I try to find a language that is not afraid of deep grief – grief pull from eons of male hate and violence done to the prostituted on every continent.
And I try find a language that lays bare that trauma will always be with the prostituted when there no justice and they viewed as sub-human sexual goods.
My blog is my mission, it is more than work – it is scream, a plea, a demand that all the sex trade must be eradicated.
I am proud that I have become unstoppable – but also deeply saddened and shocked that I need to write this blog.
I do not see enough of the prostituted being allowed basic human rights – so I must write.
I do not see the prostituted having the freedom of speech.
Instead, I see and hear the words of the prostituted being framed by sex trade profiteers as sex work, empowerment and even feminism.
Exited women have to fight all the time to being heard – as constantly the sex trade and its many allies silence and threaten our voices.
I see no access to freedom of movement for the prostituted.
Instead I see the constant movement of the prostituted into more violence, movement to disoriented the prostituted into deep silence.
I see the conditions of trafficking being made invisible by being framed as chosen sex work.
I see no right to safety for any prostitute in any country that makes the choice to normalised the sex trade.
Instead, I know that every moment, there are countless prostituted living inside mental, physical and sexual torturing.
I know every form of torture we have invented is rehearsed on the minds and bodies of the prostituted before it becomes a politic tool.
But the torturing of the prostituted is rebranded as adult entertainment, as porn, as kinky sex, or as boys being boys – and so it cannot be a human rights issue.
So, I see and know I must keep writing, for I live in a world that claim the prostituted are not human, just fuckable goods.