i use humor to mask the fact that i want to fall off the face of the earth
"I’ve become what I hate the most. I’m clingy, annoying, obsessive, anxious, loud, hateful, and unloveable. Sadness has consumed and is controlling me very being. There’s no escaping pain, there’s no escaping who you are. When you’re left alone with yourself you begin a never ending war. This war is killing me quicker than oblivion ever could. I always thought if I could find that one person, that one other person that could fill the empty void in my mind and heart, I could finally be happy. But, as usual i’m rejected and left to battle my own self-war alone. I wonder if he knows I would give my life for him? I wonder if he knows my love for him burns on, and that it kills me to know he’ll never feel the same. I don’t blame him. It’s hard to love someone like me. I don’t even love myself so why the hell should i expect someone else to? I really adore you. So much that I can’t leave you alone. Why is everything so unfair? Why is this world so god damned unfair? Happiness only to those who’re lucky, I, on the other hand, am not lucky. Sadness will follow me around like a ghost seeking revenge. Maybe sadness is the Grim Reaper? Maybe it’s time for me to go. I don’t know."
some people are so dense on this website with certain important matters that i cant even
Frank Parlato interviewed 3 prostitutes.
Here’s one of them.
You’re not the police right?
She hopped into the car, and I told her I would like to interview her and pay her for her time. Instead of what she normally does with a man, she would be paid for just talking.
As we drove, she said, normally, I just don’t get into a vehicle. I make a man pull it out or make him touch me to make sure they aren’t the police.
I could tell she was nervous. She was pretty. And soft spoken. A gentle, lean brunette. She would be striking, if not for the signs of wear on her features. A tired, drawn, defeated look. She was 30, she said.
Admittedly, I asked blunt questions. Maybe they were too simple. I wanted to capture her views, to draw her out and at the same time not scare her.
Why are you on the street tonight?
Addiction, she said, in a soft, halting voice.
I started on heroin when I was 23. After two years of being clean, I was having a craving to start getting high again. I started smoking crack cocaine over a year ago.
How often do you smoke?
Usually, several times… a dozen times a day. It depends on how much I want to chase.
How much does it cost?
About $300 a day.
How do you pay for that?
Prostitution, she said, in a whisper. Sometimes, I have guys that know where I live. They come by. I like to have a phone, but right now I don’t, so I have no choice but go on the street.
She explained with a sad note in her voice that she gave her three children up for adoption. She hasn’t seen them in years.
They deserve somewhere safe, she said, and almost cried.
How much do you expect to make tonight?
Just a couple hundred. I am not really in the mood to do too much. You get tired chasing.
When is the last time you used?
Half an hour ago.
How much does crack cost?
Nowadays you’re not getting anything nice, unless you at least have $10 and $20 is barely satisfying. $20 is one small blast.
When do you start craving again?
It last for about 5, 10 minutes then you come down and you’re chasing again.
Are you craving crack now?
A little bit, but I’m a little more nervous too. This is different.
When you are out on the streets, aren’t you nervous too?
I get scared all the time.
Then you do not like your work?
Absolutely not! There is a couple gentlemen, of course. You meet some decent people out here. Sometimes I am sad that I couldn’t have met some of these guys before I was using. If I am not comfortable with someone, if it is a cleanliness thing, I won’t do it. I used to carry a bag with me, with sanitizers and baby wipes and everything. I can’t afford it. The habit took over so much.
I’ve been robbed. I’ve been raped. You deal with the dates. You deal with the hustlers. You deal with the men that try to take over. There is always somebody trying to take control over what you do. They see me get into a vehicle. As soon as I come home they try to get me to spend with them or whoever they have with them. I know about 40 crack dealers, just on the east side.
How many men do you see in a night?
It ranges from a couple to, wow … maybe a couple dozen. When I do that, I instantly want to get high, just to take away the way I feel. Most times, I come out because I’m hungry Or something I need or want and after I perform I don’t like the way I’m feeling, so I get high so it just keeps repeating itself over and over. I want to get out, but I guess not bad enough. I’m at the bottom, not as low as I ever have been. I was homeless for two years living in condemned houses. I have a home now.
She told me she had been out three hours that night and had two customers. One she charged $30, the other $20. With him she had unprotected sex, she said.
Did you ever get a disease from this work?
I believe maybe I have, but I didn’t go get checked. Normally I don’t have sex. It is just oral.
Where do you get crack?
I normally go to a phone and have them deliver.
Could you get a regular job?
That habit would not allow me. It consumes you. It consumes your mind, your body, everything. It’s all that matters at that moment.
How do you make money in the daytime?
Most of the time I have my door cracked and most of my guys know that if I have my door cracked, I am available.
She asked me to drop her off at her apartment. I paid her $30 for the interview. She said I was welcome to talk to her again, but the people inside her apartment tonight would be scared that I was a police detective. If I came back, she would come outside.
To read the rest, please visit his website
More posts about the world
So this wonderful human being put the lyrics of Let it Go through a bunch of languages on Google Translate and eventually translated them back to English and then sang those lyrics and the result is WONDERFUL.
actors who are also fans of the thing they are acting in
Let’s not forget about the lovableness of actors who vehemently hate what they’re in
By the light of torches, candles or miners lights, haunting scenes centuries old appear to unfold. Scenes of skulls, bones and death are everywhere. The passages can be as low as three feet overhead or even less. The air heavy with dust, and the ground underfoot flooded with grimy water splashing way over your shoes. In tunnels up to 100 feet below the surface bustle of one of the world’s great cities, another clandestine world exists.
Consulting maps, self-trained guides lead the way, while others look for opportunities to take photographs. Exploring the Paris Catacombs, also known as the Mines of Paris, carries risk. For one, it is strictly illegal, with special police and their dogs patrolling the vast subterranean network. There is also a very real danger of getting lost, as well as the chance of cave-ins in some places.