Pretty Things.


“Pleasures remain, so does the pain, words are meaningless and unforgettable”

What are you really worth, if all you’re worth is the price that people will pay? What is your worth if you are only worthy of being attractive . . . then you are worth nothing, it all fades. What are you then left with? Nothing. Being beautiful on the inside is what counts . . . they’re also not the ones that sell “yoga”. It doesn’t matter, not a damn thing, they dislike me for being not who I am, but for the way I look, people get messed up mad at this shit. Sorry I take nice pictures. This is yoga. I do know I have this tendency to make shit up in my head, tell stories and then believe them. This though I know is true. Sparrow and I get such a kick out of how many times that my pictures ends up online, doing poses, or on video. Yes I am aware that I am giving my permission, it is the rare occasion that I get to see what my yoga practice looks like or what it is coming into. The pictures are beautiful, they catch true inner beauty, they capture a fucking stillness that I have ever yet to see in myself. . . yoga though has a tendency to do that all on its own. That is the way I see it at least. Yoga is like any other business, they want good looking people for marketing purposes. It does not seem by accident that the owner of the studio and one of our teachers made sure to tell Sparrow and I that there was going to be pictures and a videographer during specific teacher training practices. She said she would really like it if we could make them. I appreciate this, I do, what I wonder though is, if I ever wanted something from them would they be so inclined. Sparrow has been teaching longer then me, like I have stated before, getting up, teaching and being myself was almost impossible with my lack of confidence and raging anxiety. I have issues being just me in front of others. I though, have no problem slapping on an allis and being naked. I know, fucked up, but I get it. I really don’t think that shit would be done for either of us, with all that we have done for the studio. I bet that if Sparrow asked to be considered to teach a class there he would be denied. They need more male teachers, they are sure more then willing though to use him for marketing. As for me, all that they view me as is a loose cannon. Someone that will never be what they want but, I am actually all that they want. If in yoga you are not more then what you look like what can I say about the rest of the world. Like one of the old studio managers said to me I am this yoga studio’ s PR dream . . . thanks. It makes me sad. I do though, at the end of the day love my studio, it just gets a little twisted sometimes.

I was at Whole Foods doing my produce shopping, an older woman in her mid fifties came up to me. She was admiring my Sparrow tattoo (only one at the time) I thought ok she is kinda cool, an old lady that likes tattoos. So she is telling me how lovely it is and I say,” thank you”. I attempt to move on to picking out my greens. She then proceeds to look straight into my eyes, holding my wrist and says. . .no fucking shit. . .”Jesus Christ died on the cross for your sins.” Really? You fucking crazy shit bag. . .really? After the day I had, now I have to hold on to the fact that Jesus Fucking Christ died for me . . . guess what I didn’t ask him to do shit for me, so that’s on you. Dumb ass, Jesus Christ and all. People scare the shit out of me. How can anyone make this up. I looked at her and I literally was shell shocked for a minute. I said something along the lines of, “bitch you’re crazy”, Sparrow then came back from grabbing stuff on the other side of the store and asked me what happened. I told him that I am going to burn in hell because Jesus Christ died for my sins. He must know that I am a stripper. Lord knows all the Jesus loving people love a stripper, and fucking hate a stripper. I for one can not seem to figure out why “they” the Jesus people follow this blog, do they want to save me or exploit me and my sins. I am a fucking whore in their eyes . . . good, now go the fuck away. I am damed either way so if it comes down to being a sinner or a saint, then I pick sinner every time. What is it they say? “Better to reign in hell. . .” Good thing I don’t believe in you Jesus Christ.

What happens when the looks fade, what then will people see? Oh wait you might have to take a hot minute and actually give a shit. Or maybe not, then you are completely forgotten and fade away, sometimes I want to fade away. I have a hard enough time trying to not objectify myself, this makes it impossible. I feel like I need to get shit right, I need to be good at something other then stripping. And I feel that time has elapsed and what if I can no longer do that well. I need to do it for a while. Sparrow, my Sparrow needs to find some comfort in something stable besides me, he needs something real good for himself. My fear is that he is fading a bit. His beautiful light, in my eyes burns so bright, he though doesn’t see it as such at the moment. I know it will pass . . . time is passing right on by. We are running out of time and yet that seems all that we have. Yes people say we look good, come over and walk a mile in our shoes. I bet you’d take your fat ass back to where ever you came from, I know I would. People can’t see what is past in front of them, I guess that’s it . . . it really is that simple. “All I ever wanted, all I ever needed is here in my arms.”



~ by applejaxe on June 24, 2012.

2 Responses to “Pretty Things.”

  1. New t the blogging thing but as I read through your posting, i felt as if THIS is how it should be done. Thank you for sharing your gift of writing.


  2. Thank you very much for a very sweet comment on what I thought was a nasty post. Thank you for coming by, come again šŸ™‚ I’ll be checking out your blog as well. Follow me if you like.


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