Porn. I probably say this word a hundred times a day hoping that I might, somehow, be able to desensitize it enough, turning it into something cute and innocent. An innocuous past-time... like bridge or cross-stitching. Like nine to fives, clock punching, and overtime.
I am an adult entertainer. My back hurts, my pussy's sore, and I've just put my five-year old son to bed, convincing him once again that he doesn't need his daddy in order to go to sleep. Frankly, I'm surprised that I'm even sitting here, eyes open, allocating my precious few moments alone towards something as long forgotten as writing. I have exams, a photo shoot, and myriad other things to finish by Friday night. But here I sit: alone, frustrated, and angry.
Honesty isn't hard for me- I love my job. I love the money, the hours- and yes- perhaps even the attention. I find no shame in admitting such things. This taboo-ish stigma attached to the adult entertainment industry is almost laughable. We scorn wives, daughters, and friends if even a whisper of involvement resonates through the complacent fabric of our lives; yet come midnight, we stain our hands alike on worn-out copies of Hustler and old VHS tapes depicting "Debby Does Dallas." I'll at least be honest: I fuck, flash pussy, and get naked for money. For good money. There. I guess that sometimes language has to be crass in order to get a reaction. In order to numb and desensitize.
So, yes, I am angry. Not with what I do or any moral/ethical objections therein, but with the entire industry's audacity. The "just another pound of flesh" treatment. The fast-paced, milk-you-while-you're-not-junkied-up attitude, just so we can spit you out broke and uneducated- a stale memento sitting in a back-folder on Alfredo's secondary hard-drive.
Where are our goals, ladies? What is our end-game? Where exactly is the end to our means? How many of us are stepping up to the plate like Belladonna and Sasha Grey and taking a stand? Taking our control and focusing it on making something better. Making ourselves better! Becoming more than just another face in the industry that is popular for a year or so, then fades away into nothingness as the newer faces arrive.
But the sad thing, is that I am no better. Just as lost and frustrated as all of you are. So come tomorrow, I'll wax, primp, spray, and trim, then go and do what I do best: entertain. Why? Because I love it. I truly do. I just feel like we can do better.
Sleep well, my fellow entertainers. Play well.
-MsErotiq
I am an adult entertainer. My back hurts, my pussy's sore, and I've just put my five-year old son to bed, convincing him once again that he doesn't need his daddy in order to go to sleep. Frankly, I'm surprised that I'm even sitting here, eyes open, allocating my precious few moments alone towards something as long forgotten as writing. I have exams, a photo shoot, and myriad other things to finish by Friday night. But here I sit: alone, frustrated, and angry.
Honesty isn't hard for me- I love my job. I love the money, the hours- and yes- perhaps even the attention. I find no shame in admitting such things. This taboo-ish stigma attached to the adult entertainment industry is almost laughable. We scorn wives, daughters, and friends if even a whisper of involvement resonates through the complacent fabric of our lives; yet come midnight, we stain our hands alike on worn-out copies of Hustler and old VHS tapes depicting "Debby Does Dallas." I'll at least be honest: I fuck, flash pussy, and get naked for money. For good money. There. I guess that sometimes language has to be crass in order to get a reaction. In order to numb and desensitize.
So, yes, I am angry. Not with what I do or any moral/ethical objections therein, but with the entire industry's audacity. The "just another pound of flesh" treatment. The fast-paced, milk-you-while-you're-not-junkied-up attitude, just so we can spit you out broke and uneducated- a stale memento sitting in a back-folder on Alfredo's secondary hard-drive.
Where are our goals, ladies? What is our end-game? Where exactly is the end to our means? How many of us are stepping up to the plate like Belladonna and Sasha Grey and taking a stand? Taking our control and focusing it on making something better. Making ourselves better! Becoming more than just another face in the industry that is popular for a year or so, then fades away into nothingness as the newer faces arrive.
But the sad thing, is that I am no better. Just as lost and frustrated as all of you are. So come tomorrow, I'll wax, primp, spray, and trim, then go and do what I do best: entertain. Why? Because I love it. I truly do. I just feel like we can do better.
Sleep well, my fellow entertainers. Play well.
-MsErotiq
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