These Pharmaceutical Companies Are Making a Killing Off the Opioid Crisis | The Nation

https://www.thenation.com/article/these-pharmaceutical-companies-are-making-a-killing-off-the-opioid-crisis/

The Most Honest Language I Have Read About Race and Addiction

The above link is from an internet article from a mainstream news organization. The words anger me, but that’s not all they do to me.
Despite the fact that the white face of the opioid crisis tends to elicit the sort of public and political empathy that was never offered to black crack addicts in the 1980s, drug use remains highly stigmatized.

I Have Brutal Honesty of My Own To Offer

One of my goals in writing this blog is to present honest thoughts that I ordinarily would not say for fear of giving offense. I will write the thoughts here bc I believe, though I cannot prove, that our forbidden thoughts are very similar and we can find a community within honesty despite the apparently divisive nature of the opinions. My honest thought, when I heard that whites are suffering with addiction was “Good for them.” My true feeling was one of relief because now that addiction is a white thing too, it’s much more accepted. As a black or half black, person with addictions, I feel more accepted by society, and on a deeper level, I can accept myself because, you see, white people do it too. If it makes them happy it can’t be that bad, to paraphrase a popular song. If white people do it, it can’t be that bad. I am ashamed to feel the need for validation by joining white people. I guess years and years of hearing black people clamor for integration and strive to get away from other black people, created my psychic script. I was watching a skit with comedian Dave Chapelle and there was a line that went something like:

“You know things are going well for him because everything in his life is white.”

And yes, I am seeking validation through an alliance of sorts with Dave Chapelle. I’d love to feel ok within myself, by myself. Not there yet.

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TRANSGENDER–ME? AN UNEXPECTEDLY CONSTANT ISSUE FOR ME ON THE STREET

Ivy League X-Streetwalker in Honolulu

Transgender–Me? Part I

Inquiring Minds Want to Know

Trans-What?

When I was young, I don’t remember knowing the word transgender. Now the word is a part of public life. Transgender is a word that has become a part of my personal life, and I couldn’t be more surprised.

I Have Always Been Female and I never had to say so on the mainland United States

A former associate named Ross said he knows somebody who knew Caroleena in California when she was a man,” a gossip said to his girlfriend– right in front of me–just yesterday, March 30, 2019. He watched for my reaction. I did not give him a reaction. Disappointed, he went back to muttering to himself and ignoring his girlfriend while she regaled me with a list of complaints about him. I listened to her with half an ear but my mind was preoccupied by speculation about this man’s motive for repeating this gossip about me in front of me. In Hawaii, if you ask someone if she is really a man it’s possible that you are voicing a legit question, not trying to offend. It is not unusual for men to become mahus and in the drug addict “community” I would say one out of five women is really a man. When I worked the streets downtown I was asked at least one hundred times by potential dates if I was a girl or a boy as soon as I get it into the vehicle that had pulled over for me. I was confident I had the right answer, but many times the driver’s expression changed from expectant to disappointed. “Nevermind, that’s ok I’ll pull over so you can get out. Oh! Here’s $20 for your time,” the kinder drivers would say before we had gone two blocks. I was glad to get the money for nothing but rejection was embarrassing even if no one was watching me climb out of the car before the driver took the usual, ”mauka” (towards the mountains) turn that signalled the new, temporary couple was heading for a rendezvous spot in the vehicle or at his residence.

Two, No Three, Reasons for the question

The Honolulu street level sex worker scene is known for being heavily “staffed” with the unconventionally gendered, so to speak. But there were reasons I, personally was singled out and asked if I had been s lifelong female. I had devoted myself to exercise. This practice has left me with the physique commonly seen in workout videos. Ok, I am flattering myself. I wish I looked like I might’ve starred in a Beachbody video. Not quite. I am not all that, but it’s unheard of for a female addict to have great muscle tone.. Hawaii is not an exercise Mecca. Obesity is normal and pretty much ok. Island locals have regularly mocked me for being unfeminine and ocd. But educated east coast women like me would find me quite normal.

I’m not just fit. There are those who would say, I’m pretty. A double whammy.“The mahus look better than the women downtown,” I heard many times. Years of using drugs can take its toll physically and spiritually. Women “out there” give up on being pretty. I’ve seen it–women’s complete reliance on proferring what’s between the legs to earn money for the next high. Make up, styled hair. Who cared? Women on the street were watching their looks fade, especially the ice smokers with their rotting teeth. Mahus were just coming into their looks. They cared about their looks, and I cared about mine, especially my teeth. In my youth, and even in my more mature years “out there,” men considered me pretty. If I did not get one compliment every day, I felt distressed, bc I hadn’t gotten my second fix. I exercised st public parks and used public bathrooms for doing drugs AND brushing my teeth.“You’re not like the other women down here. You take care of yourself. That’s why I wasn’t sure about you” one client had said as an apology for asking if I was a “real” woman. I basked in what I perceived as praise. I never expected that the traits I valued were the same characteristics that made people question me. Those are two reasons people are asked. I believe I know about a third reason.

I never expected that the traits I valued were the same characteristics that made people question me. Those are two reasons people are asked. I believe I know about a third reason.

SURPRISE!

Men asked then, and continue to ask this day, if I am a man or a woman not just because they think I might really be a man. They HOPE I am a man. They are voicing a desire not a doubt.

If only out had d*** to go with that pretty face. You’d be perfect.”

–wistful words of a disappointed man before asking me to exit his vehicle

I will share my theories. Stay tuned for more in Part II of “Transgender–Me?” Find out more about what men hoped for and the complex reasons why they wished I was really a man.

Love, Caroleena, May 2, 2019

So the owner of the New England Patriots Might Have Wanted to Hire a Hooker… what’s the problem?

What’s wrong with a wealthy man seeking some p****?

https://images.app.goo.gl/CA7korK1k8G32Fsv6

WHAT MEN WANT

My beloved, late friend was a retired army medic who did two or three tours in Vietnam. I originally met him in a professional way, you now what mean, but the relationship evolved into something more, as all relationships do with extended contact. In this case the something more was real friendship. He was very accepting of me, I see that now, and of people in general. He didn’t judge people and their idiosyncrasies. Here is an example. He often spoke of Bill Clinton and Monica Lewinsky:

The whole world laughed at our country for making s big deal out of that. If the president of the greatest country in the world can’t get no p**** in the Oval Office , there’s no hope for the rest of us.

My friend’s view was that men are dogs and there’s nothing that can be done to change nature. I’m sure he would have the same opinion of the latest so-called scandal involving the owner of this year’s Superbowl winner. Why in the world would anyone put prostitution on the same list as murder as we see in above cartoon? So the man wanted p****? After all, if he couldn’t get it there isn’t much hope for the rest of them, as my friend would have said.

Hooker Life Hack #14: life is a good news, bad news story.

Life is a good news bad news story. The good news is you can get used to anything. But you know what the bad news is? You can get used to anything. The once unimaginable, the once inconceivable, can become routine. The thought of something used to horrify you, and now you can do that very thing without batting an die. I suppose it is necessary to adapt in order to survive. but it could easily happen that the very adaptation that enables you to survive in the short-term hurts you in the long-run. Sometimes we have to keep the horror of a bad situation alive, if it is within our power to change the situation. Acceptance may be the key to solving most problems but not all problems. Be careful what becomes acceptable to you, and question anything that was once out of bounds but you now consider alright.

Don’t confuse giving up with serenity

Hooker Life Hack: the world’s newest everyday wisdom from the world’s oldest profession

Are Men Who Pay For Sex Sad Sacks or Sickos?

Before I got involved with prostitution I had preconceived ideas about the type of men who paid for sex. I possessed no actual facts and so complete was my ignorance that I did not know I knew nothing. Secure in my rightness, I thought there were only two types of people who hired sex workers. The “losers” who were utterly lacking in appeal for any number if reasons and needed to provide financial incentives to obtain companionship. The losers were used and abused by women who only wanted money, but mistreatment was better than isolation. No money, no honey. When I saw media coverage of a 90 year old man who drew up a new will that cut out his kids and left everything to his favorite sex worker, I thought him pitiful and deluded.

What type of men played with fire.?

The second category of my imaginary client population was the “sicko.” These depraved sexual sadists hired sex workers to victimize them. They took advantage of the perceived police indifference to the lives of hookers to do as much damage to as many disadvantaged people as possible until finally society couldn’t turn a blind eye to the discarded bodies of murder victims. He considered himself a hero for ridding society of these problems. One client told me this joke: Question: What do you call a black woman who has an abortion? Answer: A crime fighter. When a story about some guy cutting off a prostitute’s head and throwing her mutilated remains in a Waikiki dumpster made news I thought that behavior was to be expected from any man who paid for sex. Something was wrong with these guys, right?

Sadists & Suckers

My desire for drugs, crack cocaine in the early years on the street overcame my fear. Apprehensively, I jumped into cars with strange men. but I got out of the same cars thoughtfully. These guys were nothing like I imagined! Facts can sure screw with a world view. Dear Readers, Introducing:

NOT SICKOS OR SAD SACKS-OBSERVATIONS ABOUT MEN WHO HIRED STREETWALKERS.

Wow! Took me over a year of hardcore self involvement to even think to write about someone other than myself, but I have finally arrived. Look for posts on the topic of client motivation. We welcome input from any guy who’d like to share his motives in the comments section.

What type of men played with fire.?

Who Wants to Hear From a Whore?

woman dark eye spooky
Photo by Rene Asmussen on Pexels.com

I hope many people want to hear from this ex-streetwalker now sex talker. I learned how to sell it .my ivy league education has given me the ability to tell it. At first I was feeding a drug habit but even after I had the dope I kept working because I liked the money, so I can’t claim I was entirely motivated by that mental illness-or moral weakness, however you consider addiction .  Over the course of a fifteen year career I heard a lot of personal thoughts and desires that men would never on God’s green earth tell anyone .But they told me because they viewed me as smart enough to understand yet I lacked the social status to reveal information to others because no one would care what a hooker had to say. No one feared exposure and I truly loved the part of my job that entailed listening.  I noticed that many men had the same feelings but they did not know bc no one compares their deepest secrets and inner shame. But what if I could change this isolation by talking about what I learned so people could see they are not alone, not uniquely weird. I think of my beloved friend who lived his whole life unnecessarily feeling like an oddity bc he never knew that I had heard many others express similar desires. I want one person to take comfort in knowing she or he is not alone after reading my words and very soon, seeing my videos on YouTube.