Ive Fixed How To End Capitalism! Lol
Iāve fixed ending Capitalism!
Stop all new production now. We have enough of everything. If we knew that everything that exists is all there is, we would treat it differently. Lots of jobs would disappear. Money wouldnāt be nessersary as all utilities are free. Limits obviously.
Learn how to fix, re use and repurpose everything. And as people settle into having more time, new human priorities would emerge. And communities and systems could be built around that
Grow food
Anyone who wants to work can work at any of the jobs we still need doing. For fun.
Make the work human. Not a job. Re structure how it is all done
No dogs in hats smoking cigars. Humans using all their wisdom to live in freedom given the consequences of the past 20,000yr fuxk up
That is our current situation
2 acres of land each
Racism?
If race was such a issue in America, why arenāt they talking about Latinos? Why is race a black issue? Why are white supremacists rife in Latinos? Cause itās a culture war. Not a race issue. Black American culture is redneck shit. Itās the lowest common denominator.
January 26th 2021
The universal human animal. We arenāt all unique and individual. There is a universal animal under all of us. That should be the guiding force
Life isnāt long enough to get to know yourself and your environment and your interactions with the ever changing environment let alone all the stupid domesticated human shit.
What I Didnt Send When I Lost My Best Friend
I just wanted to let you know that I donāt feel like our friendship is over. But it is clear we need and are having a break. I am ok and ok with that. I hope you are too. We will align again when itās right. I still love you the same as ever.
“THE WILD RIDE OF #VANLIFE PORN”
…Itās a blazing summer afternoon in the western U.S. wilderness, and porn performer Sky Smith is giving me a virtual tour of her van. āI built it myself over nearly three months,ā the 36-year-old says excitedly, panning the camera around the interior. āIāve never been normal, Iāve always been odd and in my own bubble. And this is the epitome of living in my own bubble.ā
We are talking over a glitchy Google Meet session ā Sky is in a deserted and undisclosed location, and her internet connection is temperamental ā but I can just about make out the vanās key features. Itās a converted school short bus, complete with a small kitchenette, wardrobe and double bed. There is also a portable toilet (āIāve had some very scenic poosā), a fridge (āthe bane of my fucking life, it takes up so much energyā) and a solitary cowboy hat, perched on an otherwise empty shelf (āmy good old hat, for vibesā).
It seems idyllic: a cosy living space, decorated with blue bunting and inviting blankets, parked up in some remote, panoramic countryside. But itās in Skyās bed that the real magic happens ā after all, thatās where her most popular cam work takes place. āMy main video style is me getting too horny and having to really fuck myself good with a dildo,ā she says, gesturing vaguely at the bed. āBut Iām also into small penis humiliation and pegging. A lot of guys want to get fucked in the back of this bus.ā
DOMINIQUE SISLEY
BPD and Relating
This morning I didnt smoke. I was having a good morning. until thinking about seeing ryan and how its like saturday and he hasnt seen me since tuesday or said anything about seeing me the last few days. i immediately went into a intense bpd reaction. when i have those thoughts i belive them. i believe i am seeing facts. that this is the wise thought, reaction and feeling to the situation.i sent angry texts. i wanted to cry. i was overcome with negative emotion and feeling. i felt sick. emotionally exhausted. i couldnt fight it. But i was aware that i was not high and that I was having a bpd reaction. so i got high and ive felt my mind change from being angry and in pain, to feeling almost fine and not caring. i still have residuals of those earlier feelings. and dont want to/havent relaxed into my high brain. the high version of me doesnt see all the evil things and interpretations of someones actions. high me doesnt instantly think someone is lying or tricking me or manipulating me. i take peiple for their word. i trust. i believe they think well of me and like me. im comfortable and happy. but what is the right way to be. which one is right? which one is real? which should i trust?which one should i act upon? now im high i can see how darkly i view other people and their intentions. i immediately go to them bieng up to something that will harm me. my lonliness really peaked too when the BPD got triggered. felt desperate. on the verge of tears. needing someone else. high i am comfortble in me on my own. i was feeling fine with not seeing ryan much recently. until i was sober. that is when the bpd brain looked at the whole sitation and reassesed and acted out.now i wanna be fine with everything.and almost trust it.
Sex Art
As a sex worker and a artist, my sex work is my art and my art is my sex work. How can it be seperate? How can anyone know that everything I do in my sex work has a artistic, intentional concept, when that concept is to be a sex worker being authentically myself? Where does the work stop and the art begin? How can I be focusing on my art when I need it as work to make me money to survive in the world? Its kind of like a artist having to make work that is more commercial so they can make thier conceptual pieces. Sitting on cam, slogging away to make enough money to eat and pay rent, doesnt feel like art. But the fact that I have chosen sex work to survive is art. The way I work, the snapshot, slip shod, overly real, emotional, reactive, reality I expose is the art. But it also just who I am and have no control over. But that free sharing of my authentic self in its painful reality is why its art. Im not performing being a sex worker. I am pushing the concept of sex work and its intersection with the self and my art as one whole piece. Like Lady Gaga. She is Lady Gaga. But becoming a pop star was her perfromance art. She isnt a false persona. But her choice to share her real self in that role is the art. I could perform being a sex worker, by doing the job better. I could not see it as art and do all the things you are supposed to do, the marketing, the editing, the buisness plan, the pushing for goals and growth. But I am not performing the job of sex worker. I am performing myself as a sex worker. Using sex work as the vehicle to share the most authentic, raw and naked version of my self that I have no other space to share it in. Cause my art is and always has been about me and my sex life and sexuality. So am I even a sex worker? Is all I am doing just art that I am displaying in its original context rather than placing it in a gallery and claiming I am better and other from sex workers. I am not commenting on sex work. I am doing sex work as its is the only place I can share my art. My art is my naked body and how I use it. How I have sex. How I masturbate. The thoughts I have on feminism and sexuality arent theoretical. They are my every day reality. I am living it. Not writing about it from a distance or a position of comentary or observation. Is me saying this is art enough? I am ready to start working on more art and making more of the art I want for the sake of art rather than the need to do sex work for money. And in that process I think it may all become more clear.
Lonliness
I initially wrote this to post on a camgirl forum. But it got too long and I didnt know if it was the right place. I dont know if this is the right place. I dont know if I should say this at all. In this context now it makes me want to talk more about the physical lonliness Im experienceing, how that feels, how important intimate touch is and why I havent had any in so long. But I might do that seperately as that seems tiring to write now. This is yet more painful honesty from me, in a place or way I dont know is right or how it will be recieved. Its not sexy. But I need to say it. Somewhere. Outloud. To other people. In the only way I can, seeing as I have no actual people to speak to. No one to be in the same room as. Typing in to the void of the internet, even when there is a friend on the other end who will teply, is all I have. Text online is my main communication medium. So here we go.
Im too lonely to get on cam. I get this once a month ish, where it just gets too much. Travelling for so long, being entirely alone in this country, having no friends and having no men interested in me (that shouldnt be paying me), and not having had sex or any intimate touch for so long, just gets too much. I have been thinking about it a lot the past few days. In the last 4 years I have only had 2 guys persue any kind of relationship, text me first or want more from me than a second or third bang sesh, and they didnt last long. And I’ve only had a handful of sex repeaters. Some dudes would stay in text contact. But text contact is the only contact with any humans I have and it isnt enough. I also have only had like one female pursue a friendship with me in that time too. Even my AA sponsor doesn’t text or call me, or reply to my messages regularly. I have a couple of girls in different parts of the country or world who will occasionally speak to me via text. And my best friend is a Whatsapp friend Ive only seen twice in 9 years. But the only person I have spent any time with or has gotten to know me in the real world in 4 years is my Mom. Its so painful. I am so sexual and so in need of touch and love. It makes camming at times really really hard. I have just got an apartment in my favorite place ive been since travelling so im hoping to be able to be around the same people consistently, and maybe that will develop into friendships. But its a small town where everyone knows everyone so I dont know how to get my physical needs met. Also it seems to be a really couply place. Everyone is with someone. And its also touristy so lots of families and groups of friends are here having a nice time together. While I just drift around, alone, like a ghost. I’m not really sharing this for any reason except the fact that I need to speak my truth right now and dont know where else to do it. Most people can’t understand. This isnt a case of feeling alone yet surrounded by people. This is legit social isolation. Solitary confinement. No one to be in the same room with, ever. It has changed my brain over the past few years. Therapy is helping me get myself back. But the more me I become the more painful it is that I am entirely alone and no one else likes me or sees me. I cant rememeber what it feels like to have someone be excited to know me, to want to spend time with me, or see me more than once or twice and then never again. I am going to be doing all the things you are supposed to do to meet people, volunteer, go to AA, do sports etc. But I have only got to this new place this week and I haven’t started that yet and know it will be a long road till I actually find people and become close with anyone, so this feeling wont be going away any time soon. Im spiralling on the lonliness, which is what happens once a month like I said. Most of the time my little life Ive made the way I want is enough and this is just background noise I am just always aware of. But right now its full volume and I cant turn it off. I have a womens AA meeting this week where I have spent a bit of time when I have visited before. So that will provide relief. I cant go to regular AA yet tho as one of the main dudes there (in his fucking 60s(see previous post)) hit on me when we went for a hike in the middle of fucking nowhere and broke my trust and the safe space of AA and I am yet to deal with that. The social isolation isn’t through lack of trying. Its from it constantly failing. But here I am again ready to try again cause being entirely alone will literally kill you or send you compleatly insane. I wish it didnt. I wish I could cope with it. But I cant. I need people. We all do. And so many people are lonley and isolated now. It makes it all the more frustrating to not be able to connect, knowing so many other people need it too, yet we cant find each other, or we dont fit or whatever. And the longer the isolation goes on the harder it is to break. i used to know hundreds of people in the real world. I used to go out 5 nights a week. I used to be able to turn up places and always know people. People used to want to know me. I used to have articles writen about me. Celebrities wanted to hang out with me. I used to be someone. Id have people calling and messaging all times of the day and night. And then someone broke me. And nothings been the same since. I have wanted to write about the reality of my lonliness for a long time. But I know it is a super painful thing to hear and read for other people. I need to use my ability to be honest and open freely, to speak my truth about it. To not be ashamed of admitting Im lonely. Cause if so many people that are actually suffering are all pretending we are fine, we wont know we arent actually alone in feeling this way. Id pay to feel alone in a crowd at this point. To have collegues who I dont want to be friends with, to have friends I dont feel get me, to have a boyfriend that isnt quite right. To be alone yet surrounded by people. That is a least a step up from how low Ive gotten.
This IS NOT a call for random internet dudes to offer me their friendship, messaging, dick, or any thing at all. I dont want random internet men to give me any more attention than they already do. That wont solve the problem. And thier motives are painfully apparent, even if they claim otherwise. I dont need another random person to message with. There isnt a solution to this that I dont already know and wont have tried or be trying. This is just my reality. Read it and accept it.
I dont think anyone from the outside would think things have gotten this bad for me. That someone that looks like I do, has the lifestyle I do, does the things I do, would have this much lonliness and isolation. But that is why I want to share this. It could happen to anyone, it could be anyone. The conversations I get with check out people, or the Starbuck baristas are the only ones I have for days on end. This could be the case for anyone you see out and about and not know it. Not know how important those fleeting interactions are. Not know that you will be the only person that speaks to them all week. But if we can start admitting to it, to not be shamed or feel ashamed that this is our reality, maybe something could change, maybe somone might end up less lonely than if they hid it and pretended they are ok. So, I am not ok. I am lonley as FUCK. And that is my reality today.
Edited to add: Now I have said that and released it into the wild, it has helped ease some of that pain, that spiralling lonliness. It did help change how lonley I felt, by admitting to it. Even if no one even reads this. And I wont ever really know as I dont allow comments anyway. Thank god. But I just came back to say, it kinda works. Admitting I am lonley made me feel less lonley. SoĀ if this resonates with you, give it a go somehow!
Performative Sex…A ReWorking
I had a problem with my essay on Perfomative Sex pretty much since I wrote it. It was too basic. Too similar to scripts currently being acted out sexually. Too close to a woman having to show off and perform for a man like she already does. I didnt quite capture the essense of the concept I was trying to share. After a sexual experience last week I was given the insight I needed to clarify this and expand upon it. Maybe even tear it up all together.