Surprising Desperation

When I first started out in the adult entertainment industry I had no idea what I was doing. It sounds strange and beyond belief that a person who never imagined herself doing anything but living a straight laced life could go off track and not know that she had crossed a line. And crossed the line in such a way that she can never go back just like Adam and Eve could never re-enter the Garden if Eden once they learned of (and I imagine) participated in, evil. I had never been promiscuous in college and never imagined I would work in the adult entertainment industry in any capacity. Things changed when I developed an addiction (More on that subject later). When a person develops an addiction there is a period of time when she lives an unexamined life. She does things that have consequences but she never imagines the consequences will happen to her. She does not contemplate her choices. She is on autopilot and any reservations are pushed out of her head by repression and denial. Ah yes, repression and denial. How could I have made it through life if I knew the truth about myself as I lived my truth? They say we live looking forward and understand looking backward. People who get addicted are often not too anxious to take that trip down memory lane. In the early days of the troubles, we never self identify as addicts (or people with addictions, a better term in my humble opinion). We start doing things we never imagined as options and for me, discovering that I could just not show up to a commitment, simply not pay the bills–I never felt such a sense of liberation from the cookie cutter life path I had travelled. As a new college grad with my first job (as a private school teacher) the standard was to pursue an advanced degree while climbing that ladder. I got off the ladder and it was so exciting! Money is spent, work is missed. The hammer is about to fall and smash my life because something happens that blows my cover and I had destroyed the supporting foundation of my existence that would’ve withstood the blows of life. And they (we) never see “it” coming. “It” meaning the avalanche of negative consequences that appear to happen suddenly at one time but are actually the accumulation of all of our actions. We don’t just lose our jobs. We are also broke because we spent our savings. Homeless because we never paid rent for a calendar year. Alone because our significant others have had it. And unemployable because of our newly acquired preoccupation with using drugs. The hammer fell for me when I disappeared after lunch on the first day of a new teaching job in Honolulu. I could not bear to return to the job or to my rented room in the house of a new coworker. I stayed downtown, in Honolulu’ s Chinatown, stuck in an establishment that allowed customers to rent a booth with a tiny screen for porno. The price was a quarter a minute, 45 second minutes. Listen to Bob Dillon’s song “Like a Rolling Stone” and that is the story of my path through addiction.

How To Get $ For Dope..?

Hooking was a surprise

Now what’s a girl to do when she is without a quarter to her name, because her savings are gone and she doesn’t want to spend a lot of time away from getting high but in order to get high she needs to get more money. A few months ago, when she had money there was always someone around to offer her free drugs. But once she was broke no one ever came forward to get her started or “spark her.” Someone in the drug neighborhood will see her unsuccessful attempt to get a street dealer to “front” her something. That person might be the dealer or maybe someone who wants in on the action. He is going to tell her that there is a street close by where she can stand about 50 feet away from the next woman, and before she knows it, a car will pull over for her driven by a man who has eked out a small amount of time for illicit pleasure. He will beckon with a tilt of the head or raised eyebrows and she should approach vehicle and when passenger side window lowers ask for a ride. She will go for a quick trip to an isolated area where she will spend some…time…with the man. The time won’t be enjoyable for her but it is over in a flash. He will take her back and she will see that the dealers are conveniently positioned near this street. She will be advised to get the money up front because once he has what he wants the guy will not be motivated to pay. Ideally, on the street, she could get as much as $100 or more but she could go as low as $20 because she could get something for as little as $20. In half an hour her life that day will change for the better. It’s not like she is a prostitute, of course not! Because…? Well, she is only doing it for the money, or it is only a right now thing, or whatever.

I followed that sage advice and was able to keep myself in dope for a long time. So while I was not an addict like the rest of the users, I joined the the remarkably racially diverse women of all ages who, unlike me, were prostitutes. Next week, sometime, I’ll make a change, I told myself. But as the saying goes, one day at a time. This day I am getting high. A person can spend years doing things she is not “really” doing. How do you think I know?

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Published by X-Streetwalker Turned Sex Talker

Caroleena used to be a drug addicted hooker on streets of downtown Honolulu in the early years of the 21st century. She was not the only learned streetwalker among the sex worker addicts. This group would have been a liberal college admissions officer's dream of diversity seeing as how they represented such a wide range of ages, races, family types, locations of origin, education levels, and gender identities. The two constants were trauma and dependency. Everyone out there had experienced life altering trauma which spurred them to seek refuge in drugs. Addiction was the unexpected phenomenon that kept them stuck in the dope. This downtown area was different from other drug saturated areas of America in one important way. The U.S. is the most violent country in the world, but in this corner of the nation there were no street gangs, no gun violence. You wouldn't get shot but you were probably going to be beaten up and robbed at some point. Interpersonal violence between intimate partners, friends, and family members was viewed as a natural part of being close to people. "Domestics" was something an individual brought upon herself or himself by causing problems in an interpersonal relationship. Caroleena, the perennial pariah even among society's rejects, had no intimate associates who might harm her. Prostitution was not as risky on Oahu as it was most everywhere else because the island was just too small. Everyone was somehow connected to everyone else with only something like two degrees of separation. You commit a crime, someone will know who you are and someone else will know how to find you. Hookers rarely got killed. Honolulu's relative safety allowed Caroleena over 10 years of street longevity until the scene ended when authorities started arresting men for allegedly soliciting undercover police for sex and posting their pictures on the evening news. ExpertEscort2018.com/ tells Caroleena's adventures during her decade of addiction and its consequences--homelessness, prostitution, drug dealing, incarceration, family destruction, the list goes on. Every story relates events Caroleena experienced, witnessed, or imagined. The tale of this outcast is skillfully and paradoxically told in the language of the elite. The wording of the posts is itself a testimony to the wide grip that addiction has on all levels of society, even impacting the privileged who were previously thought to be immune to the troubles of the lower class. During these days of opiate addiction maybe she can answer some questions and present applicable solutions. If not, you are still in for a hell of a good read.

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