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Betrayals

My Worst Betrayal is why I am alone now…wp_story1618244613330_0

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My best friend would have been my boyfriend but he was mostly gay and had complicated feelings for me, as a woman. Our relationship was a series of extremes but I loved him and lived for the day he wouldn’t punish me with the silent treatment after an especially great time (that was his pattern.) He was from Massachusetts and a huge Patriots fan. He came over the Saturday night after the Patriots made the Superbowl. I was thrilled to wake up and find his phone was beside me in bed. That meant he was still there. I had had my doubts bc he was coming off of a bout of the silent treatment towards me during the week. I felt purely happy when I got out of bed to join him in the kitchen. It was in the kitchen that I found his dead body. The autopsy took 4 months to deliver final results bc toxicology and other tests take place thousands of miles away. During the waiting period the people who comforted me were telling others I had killed him. They spoke of our volatile relationship, going so far as to contact police and medical examiner. Why? Bc they had sold him drugs and if those drugs had killed him they could’ve gotten in trouble. The results of the autopsy was death by accident due to mixed drug intoxication. No large amount of something like an overdose but with 7 drugs in his system, no way to know which drug or what combo had been fatal. Also, the artery that is most important for supplying the heart was 75 percent blocked. I did not kill him, no one did, but my “friends* set me up in case a scapegoat was needed. I have been alone since 2017. My friend never got to see the Patriots win that Superbowl.

I never held their whiteness against them

But I also found out that my race was always on their minds and always had been. Of course when you first meet someone you notice their looks but when you get to know them you think of them by name. Not–the tall guy, for example. When it came to me, the person who had introduced me to my best friend referred to me as “that black girl.” She had known me for ten years. When my friend died she became concerned that his family would review his finances and find checks written out to her in handwriting that was not his, and the checks were signed in this unknown person’s handwriting. For her purpose of distracting the family from her fraud she told them the black hooker killed him and had robbed him too. At that time she was out on bail awaiting sentencing for the robbery charge she picked up when she bit the security guard at Macy’s in Windward Mall. She was looking at 10 years. And if the sentencing judge had heard she picked up a new financial fraud felony…a happy ending for her would be unlikely.

Last of all, I felt betrayed by the administration. God let me feel love and snatched it away. So I really know what I am missing.

It is hard to pray with the belief that Someone with my best interests at heart is hearing and rearranging things to benefit me. You can understand my scepticism can’t you?

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anthropology Honolulu Motivations for Behavior Story told with pics

Do Men Really Expect Sex For Kindness?

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She is sad, in need. Maybe she looks to him for help, maybe he notices without a word from her

He acts as her friend. He shows concern, gives small tokens of affection. She is hardened from the street but dares to hope that maybe she has a friend in him

Out of the blue, or so it seems to her, she has been running a tab with him. He has a list of every little kindness he gave her. He gave, but those were not gifts. EA he gesture had a price. Now she owes him money. But he would lime a…how shall it be said?…A physical currency, yes, that is how he would lime payment. She can settle up with her body.

Now she is hurt and alone. She is not opposed to deals, trades. That’s street life after all. However, for her, transactions are mutually agreed to, in the beginning, out in the open. Not one sided and secret. She us hurt by his accusation that she is selfish and worse, conniving. He says she knew all along there was a bill that would be due. Still, she took the occasional soda with no real intention if giving him her body out of gratitude for his thoughtfulness. Did anyone else care about her? Obviously not or she would not

…she would not be out there, sleeping by Pali Safeway off of Kukui Street in downtown Honolulu. Yes, he mentioned the lack of support knowing she is ashamed of her status.

When a 👩 woman is homeless there is an assumption she is unloved. Often this assumption is a painful truth

She points the finger back at him. He is a phony, a manipulator, a pervy. She handles hurt feelings the way she has always handled them: she layers hate and anger in slayer so thick no one knows how sad she was that is no longer has his companionship. If she suspected his ulterior motives before at least she could lie to herself and pretend he is her friend. The truth is out. The truth hurts. Truth is sometimes overrated.
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Men Expect to Guilt Women Into Exchanging Sex For Kindness

A Shocking Text

I have a friend who is still in the street. She does not stay with me probably BC that’s just too much of me. But she hangs out with me when I am downtown. Last week she showed me a text from a guy who she thought was her friend. It turned out that any bit of kindness he showed her was entered into his records. It was clear he had given each kind action a sexual equivalent. Based upon his calculations he had done so much for her she should happily throw herself at him and let him have his way with her while she did his bidding. Of course he was quite vulgar in the wording of his expectations. I am putting an intellectual spin on his foul mouthed diatribe. And what were these acts of kindness? Asking her if she wanted a soda. Checking on her at the homeless camp near Safeway by the Pali Highway. Nothing like giving her a place to stay or taking her to the doctor. Nothing that would make a true difference in the life of a homeless, addicted woman. Nevertheless she had believed she had a friend. So all those times he checked on her by the homeless encampment…All those times he he brought her a can of soda…those were just manipulations in a long term plan? He cared nothing for her? I feel bad now that at the time she shared the text with me I was focussed on what scum I thought he was rather than her hurt feelings. I will try to make that up to her.

Some People Are Ungenerous

There are people who keep a running lists of everything they have ever done for a person. People who think of themselves as generous see no contradiction between their self image and their belief that people owe them for their good natures. I hate that. The people who adopted me were like that, the lady, really. She was always complaining that I was not grateful for food, clothing, doctor visits. My view was that I never asked to go there and that is the deal they signed up for. I had no say in the deal. I would never have consented. I got out of that house the first chance I got. I left with a lifelong aversion to sudden demands of gratitude for what was “freely” given. My friend situation was not unlike the one I had been adopted into. She did not know she had entered into a contract. I know she can be selfish but addicts typically are selfish about dope. I am sure she did not want to share dope. Who does? I concede the point that she might have been a taker, although I have no direct knowledge of this opinion, but owing sex is not something I buy into. Little did she know he had tabulated a sex…ledger. Disappointing but not surprising. He did what a lot of guys have done in my experience. Not only do they equate certain sex acts with, say, beverage offers, they laughingly try to make us jealous. They mention all the women who would happily do what they want. Please go find those women eager to disrobe and throw themselves, legs akimbo, at your feet. Save us the hassle!

Anyone who works at a job would be quite annoyed if a so-called friend tabulated favors and came up with the number of free hours we owe giving them the benefit of our professional expertise. Working girls hate to hear they have sex debts and they would just as soon the guys go elsewhere. Keep in mind he is not offering her anything but the chance to enter into sexual slavery until he is satisfied he has been compensated. It would be different if the guy had been upfront and approached with money and asked if she would. Hey, people on the street know how money is earned. But to feign friendship in order to turn affection into guilt and then demand sex, that he won’t pay for BC of her sex debt…that is just sneaky. Pervy. And far too common.. Maybe men and women cannot be friends. Maybe when a man is friends with a woman he thinks he is the one taking a loss. Is it possible that a man feels insulted when a woman calls him a friend? Maybe. I will ask around. I do know that people who fake affection and later reveal their true motives come off as traitors. We try not to have feelings, and we certainly do not want any feelings that we cannot quash to be hurt, but for people who strive for indifference, we women on the street are especially sensitive to rejection.

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An x-streetwalker should be wiser. They say you can’t con a con. Turns out you can con this one.

No recent posts? Why not? I haven’t posted bc i delayed replacing my stolen phone. Someone who called himself my friend took it. I figured as much yet I fruitlessly searched my small apartment. I didn’t want to think that I had lost the phone and apparently lost any semblance of security on my phone bc the voicemail was accessed. It was preferable to believe the phone was hidden beneath some clutter as ND I suddenly couldn’t access my account online bc I had forgotten the password. NOT bc domeonshad chsnged that password using skills I lack. Finslly, after tearing yhe place apart, ii Iiihad to admit IIhad been outdmarted, for one thing, and had my lonliness and hope that lonliness can be fixed, used against me.

Hugging someone while plucking his phone out of his backpocket is s manuever I used to practice. There was something else I did to guys, during which, I reached behind them to pick their pockets bc they were distracted. My karma caught up with me.

I open the door to uninvited guests. No, lets say it, intruders. I want totthink I sm contributing to dociety by helping people who need a shower. I used to have this need, but I never showed up empty handed like the people at my door with only a towel in hand. They don’t see me as a helper or s friend but as a target. I’m merely opening myself up to be victimized which will no doubt reinforce the sociopathic delight in getting over on someone clueless. I should’ve had a clue. After all, I used to be so low class I stole from people who let me into their homes. No biggie. They could afford it. When I have people over to my place I need to assemble my phone, keys, money, wallet and secure them in a fanny pack on my waist. I must wear the zipper side against my stomach in case I fall asleep and don’t feel stealthy hands. Then, after I attach my belongings to my person inside my own home, I need to stop lying to myself.

I don’t invite friends. People in need of a shower hitchhike, or “tailgate,” by following residents into my building. They show up unannounced, at times I’m usually out. Jalousie windows are removable in two minutes. The truth is, “friends” climb in. So do the neighbors. They divide the spoils. What spoils do I have to offer? It’s a modest life, my existence, but waaaay better than nothing. I know nothing so I consider myself qualified to make this judgment. The intruders, take friends and neighbors, take food–human & cat, hygiene items, batteries, spare, change, and the info from my prepaid cards. That’s why I had to challenge unauthorized charges for games made to my PayPal account through the linked card– at a time when I had the card. That’s why my hostile, overtly racist next door neighbor watches me from the 10th floor railing ’til I’m off the property. That’s why my neighbor four doors down has a smirk whenever I catch her in my clothes. Today, she looked ridiculous wearing one of my sundresses awkwardly teamed with my jeans & shirt. I know thieves, not friends. Maybe I will continue to let them in so I don’t get to weird from having only a cat. But at least I will tell myself the truth.