Monthly Archives: September 2013

No Room for Hope

Posted on by rmott62

I want to explore the dead emotions of being prostituted.

By writing into that deadness, I may drag back life.

It is and was a time where hope was nowhere, where tears had no meaning, when love was destroyed – it is and was landscape of killing all human emotions.

Emotions only make you vulnerable, make you think you have a future – emotions are pointless when trapped inside the sex trade.

I know many will compare prostitution to other forms of male violence – there are some similarities, but the differences must never be silenced, not by radical feminists, not by those who call themselves abolitionists, not by Leftists, not by the religious, not by the media.

To silence that the prostituted class are not just part of a continuum of male violence, but are part of it and much much more.

The more is not allowed to be known, it has become and always has been the unacceptable face of male violence.

It is a violence without emotions, a crime without passion, cold women-hating.

Everything about the sex trade and being prostituted is to know there is no hope, and to know so deep that every rape, every torture, every bashing up and every murder of the prostituted is never personal, and should be viewed as a crime.

Prostitution is not violence against an individual woman or girl – for she is made not to exist beyond what she in the eyes of the male orgasm.

To punters and the sex trade, the prostitute is no more real than a blow up doll – both are just there as holes for his fucking.

Punters want the prostituted to be silent, to never question any of his actions, never have her own thoughts or dreams, just be manipulated into whatever porn-dream he has.

She may as well be dead for all he will noticed.

The sex trade wants and needs the prostituted never to be individual – they must be interchangeable, must be whatever role gets the most profit, must know they are goods that will be thrown away.

The prostituted class never have the dignity or pride of knowing what it is to be an individual.

How would you feel if you knew every time you were raped, tortured or beaten up it was never a personal act of violence?

How would you feel knowing if it was not you inside that male violence, it will be any other prostitute, for they are all the same?

How would feel if violence was not done by one to five men – but more than 100, more than 1000, in reality more than you mind is willing to count?

Would you feel, or learn to murder all emotions and all signs of hope.

Would your brain explode with the knowledge that no punter saw you, no punter notice if you were in pain, no punter stop even when he pretended to be the good guy.

Would your brain explode knowing all those punters would go outside into the “real” world, and would invisible for they are just so ordinary, so outwardly non-violent and are just normal.

How would you feel seeing punters in the real world, passing by you on the street, speaking against real violence to real women and girls, standing next to you in a pub?

How would you feel as you see punters rise into positions of power, becoming imbedded as film stars and pop stars, see punters speaking up against the evils of trafficking?

This is normal for the prostituted – we live inside a world of silence about who and what the punters.

If every exited woman was to speak out who the punters are it would rip the fabric of nearly all societies apart.

I can speak to small parts of my silence – hoping beyond hope it may open eyes of those who think they know who punters are. I can only know what I know, but that knowledge is poison in my heart.

I was raped and tortured by men of the Left, men training to be leaders in their countries, men who collected the prostituted, men who fought for human rights, men who were students, men who sold drugs, men who were religious, men who thought the prostitute for his art, and of course by men who just wanted to copy the latest porn into a prostitute.

I was used and never seen.

A fuck toy – nothing more and certainly nothing less.

It hurt and damaged me so much that all I could do was to become empty.

But a few punters burnt into my brain – mainly for their hypocrisy and sadism.

I know one punter would lead the local Amnesty International group – which was ironic for he would torture me for many hours, pay to do it many times.

He enjoy seeing me go dead, enjoy how robotic I became.

He told it was ok coz I never cried, never complained – so it was not torture, just his buying me as goods.

I learn from his lies that as a prostitute, i could never be human enough to be tortured.

I was raped and tortured by rich African students who went on to run and corrupt their countries.

I had their sadism, lack of empathy, giant sense of entitlement and lack of self-awareness poisoning every cell of my body.

Through them I learnt to hate all politicians, all Leftist and right-wing politics, all nationalism – and all corruption of power.

I cannot trust politics, just stand outside with my prostituted heart knowing all used the Whore and throw her away.

I was raped and tortured by punters who collected the prostituted as their hobby.

These men saw their torturing and raping, especially their mind control as some kind of art form.

To these punters, the prostitute was never real – she was just a metaphor for his “deep” emotions, a symbol of what make him a man, a canvas for his passions and fucking to go into.

These punters still give me body memories and nightmares – or they destroy any idea that I had an existence outside the gaze of the punter.

I hope this post make some sense.

It is Hard

Posted on by rmott62

It is hard writing, but I must do it anyway.

I feel I have reach a place of staring into my past, knowing it must be true, and wanting not to know that reality.

I have found words connected into a language that makes me want to run away, or to dig myself a deep hole and bury myself.

I have come to face the unbearable, the sick-making, the unspeakable – and come to know I can no longer detach myself from that past.

I suppose to truly go forward I must know my own reality – but how do you truly know torture? How do you truly know being raped beyond the brain want to count?

How do you truly know and place inside your essence, that you have made into a sub-human, made into goods with no human rights?

How do you truly know that all that hell was never personal, you were never seen or known, just another interchangeable whore to be used and thrown away?

I must know all that to go forward – I armed with knowing all that as I fight for abolition.

For as an exited woman, abolition is no abstract idea, it cannot be allowed to just be a dream – no, it must be a solid reality for all the prostituted, no half measures.

I fight for the future, but always carrying my prostituted past as a wound and reminder of why I fight so hard and relentlessly.

I see my individual past and know it just part of millions of prostituted lives in every country and throughout recorded human history.

I was never an individual story, not unique, never worse or better than any other prostituted woman or girl – I was just an example of the ordinary torturing of any prostitute in any culture, in any era and under any political system.

To be tortured as a prostitute is to know inside every cell of your body what it is to be made nothing – less than the dog shit you step in.

Being nothing, having no access to human rights – it is normal to torture the prostitute in any way the human brain can imagine – be it physical, sexual or mental torturing, usually all mixed together.

But the hell of being a prostitute is that it not a few men who torture – it can hundreds or even thousands of men, it can be countless.

Each punter imagine he is unique in his torturing or raping of the prostitute – some imagined they are the only punter who went “out of control” or enjoy being violent.

Many punters imagine it not real violence, for if a woman is a prostitute she must enjoy pushing the boundaries, and anyhow she not human enough to feel pain.

More punters than outsiders want to imagine know it is rape, know they committing acts the prostitute is being damaged by – and they do not care, or think it proves they are a real man.

Punters do not accidentally harm the prostitute – that is a highly dangerous myth.

But most punters are experts at lying, experts at making themselves into the victim, experts at making it looked as if they were manipulated by the prostitute.

They are never rapists, never do violence unless the prostitute ask for it, never rude to the prostitute – heck if you believed punters they are all gentlemen, or just a consumer buying goods.

Always it is easier to follow the lies of punters – and blame the prostituted for “allowing in” all that violence.

So I allowed myself to be gang-raped, allowed myself to be deep-throated till I was sick or fainted, allowed anal rape to nearly kill me, allow my head to put into water as I was being rape.

I suppose I was just adventurous.

Why, if was my choice or way of life – why was I nearly murdered at least three or four times, why did I keep trying to commit suicide and why did I get pregnant, sexual diseases and trauma?

Why did i seem to miss out on the fun side of being prostituted?

And why did every prostitute I have ever know or heard also miss out on the jolly japes of prostitution?

All I know that every exited woman seemed to think the Happy Hooker is a unicorn – and we cannot understand why it is believed that any woman or girl has full choice inside the sex trade.

This is hard to write, to even think – so I will rest now.

Are We Not Human?

Posted on by rmott62

I am feeling great despair, and feel close to a terrible edge.

I am a fighter, so will always keep on going. But I wondering if the prostituted class will ever be given the simple right to be fully human, or always made sub-human and pass over.

My despair comes from always believing in human rights as a fundamental for all the prostituted – and seeing every day that is eroded every day by groups I was brought up to respect.

The main groups that are pulling me down, and grinding my prostituted soul into the dirt – are United Nations and  Amnesty International.

I have always had deep respect for both these organisations, one of my family is an organiser for AI, another relative work for UNICEF.

These are organisations I was brought up to believe would protect all humans that are oppressed – but both have decided that the prostituted class are not human enough to get full human rights.

I am deeply shocked by this, and feel the ground has been pull away from me.

Recently human rights groups have narrow down what it is to be trafficked into the sex trade, use HIV as a stalking horse to decriminalise all prostitution, encourage that prostitution should place indoors and off the streets (that is, out of the public gaze), call prostitution sex work, and in general follow what sex trade profiteers want them to believe.

All this is keeping the prostituted class firmly as sub-human, and allowing them to be made into sexual goods.

It is terrifying times – this is one of greatest crisis in the world, and most governments, most human rights groups, most people are passing by the genocide of the prostituted class.

I want to be optimistic – my this is tearing my heart out.

Are the prostituted class not human?

Each time you separate trafficking from prostitution – you are saying the prostituted are not human.

Trafficking and prostitution are always interlinked, they cannot be separated.

All prostitution is the conditions of trafficking.

For to be trafficked is lose your human right to full consent without any form of coercion or force – this includes coercion by monetary means.

To be trafficked can and is through family, friends, acquaintances and strangers.

To be trafficked is not just from country to country – but includes internal trafficking, from street to street, city to city, even one building to another.

All this is the norms in all forms of prostitution – but daily human rights groups are narrowing down definitions of trafficking to find ways to not include the prostituted.

Slowly they are working to exclude the prostituted from access to human rights.

Are the prostituted class not human?

Each time you use HIV as an excuse to legalise prostitution, you are saying the prostituted are not human only sexual goods to be consumed.

If the prostituted have HIV or any other sexual disease, it is totally the fault of the sex trade and the men that consume the prostituted.

The prostituted are easy scapegoats, for that make the everyday male violence and hate put into them invisible.

There is no point in supplying condoms, when many punters refuse to wear them, when sex trade profiteers make a fortune by encouraging punters to not use condoms.

Condoms do nothing to end the industrialised raping, beating up, torturing and murdering of the prostituted class.

Condoms will never make a sexual slave know freedom.

No, it only public relations that wants condoms given to all the prostituted – giving out condoms send the message that the sex trade can continue as normal, and there will be little or no interference.

Condoms is or the safety of the punters, and nothing to do with the human rights of the prostituted class.

We are just thrown away.

I am so sad, I am so angry.

Please stand up and be counted – this is a huge crisis.

 

Watching a Tree Grow

Posted on by rmott62

I am an abolitionist – but being an abolitionist I know real change and freedom is slow.

I would like to wave a magic wand – and kasham – all the prostituted in every country, in every street, in every brothel, in every flat, in every piece of porn on the net etc – they not just free but able to know their full humanity.

I would love to wave away all the trauma that is inside all the prostituted – or at least have long-term specialist therapy for all exited women as their basic right.

I would love to have my magic wand make all lawmakers in every country attack the demand for porn and prostitution without mercy or taking notice of the status of the man consuming the sex trade.

I would wave away any law that makes the prostituted into criminals, and make it clear they are crime victims, that most have been damage into being sub-human. I would want it to seen that each every prostituted women and girl has her right to full consent stolen and smashed to the ground, for money replaces her voice as consent.

That is part of the future that I want and need – that is my passionate dream. I know it will happened in my lifetime, I know it is slow.

But I believe that abolition is a reality – for I know there is nothing natural or right about making a whole class of women and girls into sexual goods.

I see that in the short period of my lifetime there has been progress, and changes in attitudes to the prostituted class.

I see it as major progress that the Nordic Approach is a reality – and that it changes attitudes for many governments that have considered there is little that can be done to help the prostituted.

I believe that there is progress in getting many of ordinary people to see that the issue of being inside the sex trade is a human rights issue. That it is an issue of extreme torture.

I see that once it understood that it is torture, it is also seen that the prostituted have no access to freely choose what happens to them. That all the power and control belongs to the male consumer and the profiteers of the sex trade.

Once that is understood and seen with clear eyes and deep inside the heart – it become impossible that being inside the sex trade is an employment issue, that is can be labelled as sex work

It cannot be view as an issue of liberation for any prostituted women – for all women and girls inside the sex trade have no power or control to stop the tortures, the constant rapes, the dehumanisation, and the murders – these occurred at any time, to any level of the prostituted class because of the choices of the male consumers and the sex trade profiteers to commit genocide.

I am proud to be part of an abolitionist movement that is changing attitudes, and developing practical ways to give back all the prostituted class full humanity and freedom.

But boy, it not just progress – being an abolitionist is to know deep grief, is to stand up to hate speech and hate that is a real physical threat, is to lose hope from exhaustion, is feel deep frustration that too many died or are destroyed without reaching freedom, and to know the anger of many centuries and many cultures allowing the prostituted class to be betrayed and abandoned.

I need more than a rational side to abolition – that makes it too depressing, for the rational brain need simple solutions and cannot bear slow progress.

The rational mind cannot hold the grief, pain and confusion that is inside an exited woman who becomes an abolitionist –  it does not want messy emotions, does not want complex solutions with many levels.

I cannot understand an abolitionist movement that runs away from grief, runs away from fury of those who live inside oppression, runs away from the pain of discovering that your humanity was stolen.

We must allow in spirituality, we must explore with all of the arts, we must speak to our doubts of the future, we must allow pain to be fully displayed, we must hear and fully the fury of the prostituted class.

If we hide from that – the abolitionist movement will be stillborn, and will leave the prostituted class to the everyday genocide.

We may be in a moment in history, where the prostituted may have access to real freedom and a route back to being fully human.

We must act on it – for over 3000 years the prostituted class has dream of being made human and being free, and always it is made out of their reach.

Please hold the lightning rod of giving the prostituted their full human rights – do not be afraid, for fear stops actions.

It is one of the biggest emergency of our time – so doing nothing is to be on the side of the sex trade.

 

Nowhere to Hide

Posted on by rmott62

Ok this title is coz I am listening to Northern Soul, and Martha and the Vandellas is playing.

But this song’s title suits my mood – nowhere to run to, nowhere to hide.

That is what living with being a prostitute is – sometime the bitter expression –

Once a prostitute, always a prostitute –

Grabs me by the throat and makes believe in optimism very hard.

At heart, I tend to a fighter – a fighter that believes there will and can be real change for all the prostituted.

But there are times when my warrior spirit see only deadness, sees that light I thought was hope is just an oncoming train.

Hope is so fragile, and when you have lived without hope or knowing a future – it can be too easy to lose access to hope.

I have not writing for a while, for I have a fear to write when I feel no hope, when I reach into that place where I see only despair.

I cannot write for I want this blog to give hope and some way to freedom.

But to truly see the light, we must know the darkness we must leave.

We cannot hide from that darkness – if we try to run away it will suffocate our access to freedom and a future.

So in this post, I will try to face the demons of my past, try to expose them to the light. It may make little difference – but may give greater understanding of what being prostituted is.

I have been exited for many years – and the further I get from the sex trade, the more I am able to know that I was tortured, and the more I get horrific body memories.

My body memories tell it was real, that I was inside a machine that made me into goods, that I was unable to cause or stop all that was happening to my body and mind.

To know you had no control, no access to consent, no human rights – hell no right to be fully human – that is unbearable to know.

Yes, I can often write that the prostituted are made into goods and considered to be sub-human – but to know in body and mind, that it was my reality, that is unbearable.

To know that my body was not just rape and battered, but was living in an environment where any form of torture was my norm, that is unbearable.

To know in every cell of my body, that rape for me was so normal and constant, that my mind cannot and will not know how many men rape me or how many times I was raped.

I cannot remember for the rapes were so repetitive, I can just remember some particular sadistic acts or vile punters – but I was raped so much it all merges and has no end or beginning.

All I know that as my mind try to know what prostituted was to me – my whole body feel polluted and invaded.

That is when hope runs away and hides.

I cannot cry, for tears were stolen as I try to show punters no emotions.

I want to reach into grief, but cannot let go enough to feel that vulnerability or release.

I grieve because I cannot grieve.

I will more soon, but it so darn hard now.

Your Language is Part of the Problem

Posted on by rmott62

I have often written on how the language around prostitution and porn is the language of the privileged used to silenced the prostituted class.

It is a language forged by punters and the sex trade, and there can be no reclaiming of the words that keep the prostituted as goods, as sub-humans. No amount of “feminist” reclaiming, no amount of liberal re-framing, and no wordplay can take away the destructive force of this language.

It is this language that make the male violence to the prostituted into a non-crime, it is this language that said the prostituted feel no pain and have no boundaries, it is the language that it impossible to rape the prostituted.

That is the language you think is worth reclaiming,  that is the language that is force onto the prostituted until they forget that they have multiple voices.

I will write to some of these words that the ignorant want to take back.

PIMP

This word is now part of pop culture.

I cannot be surprised, for pimps have always wanted to see as misunderstood heroes, as the way to quick power and fame.

But I do find it curious how it has become to pimp, be pimp and plain old pimp to mean anything that is made better and more commercial.

You can pimp your car, pimp your wedding, pimp up your cooking, pimp your baby, I suppose we can pimp out lol pictures of cats.

This slang is nothing to do with who and what pimps are – this language makes pimps into lovable cartoon figures.

What is a pimp in this new language.

It is a mashup of imagined 70’s images and ideas from rap videos.

The pimp is a racist image of mostly Black American men who get out of poverty by having a stable of girls.

This pimp cannot be White – he may be a cartoon Asian or Latino. It is nothing to do with reality that pimps are rarely visible.

Pimps comes from all ethnic backgrounds, they are men and some women who enjoy the power-trip of selling vulnerable women and girls, but mostly love the money they make.

There is nothing glamorous or romantic about being a pimp.

A pimp is a person who has no empathy, a pimp do not think twice about torture or threat of murder to control his goods, a pimp cannot see any humanity in the prostituted and so make them his slaves.

But the most important thing to know about the reality of pimps is how most make themselves invisible.

Many are called businessmen who keep away from the violence but are awash with the blood money.

Many female pimps will hide in plain sight by re-naming themselves as sex workers or saying they are dominatrixes.

Other will shelter by saying they are just boyfriends, just close friends, just family – while profiteering as the prostitute is being paid to be raped.

Each time you say pimp as a positive – you are allowing those rapes to continue.

SLUT

I am glad that Slutwalks are going out of fashion.

But still it hard as an exited woman to see anything good about the need to be label as Slut.

I was made into a slut, I was made the shit that you step over.

Each and every prostitute or woman inside porn are made into sluts, it is a role that slowly kills their will to live – so why do some women think it can be reclaimed.

Think what slut means to the prostitute.

To be a slut inside the sex trade is lose all right to have consent.

To be a slut inside the sex trade is have all sexual violence in all cells of your body, and inside your mind so much that you do anything to never sleep.

To be a slut inside the sex trade is to know you be thrown away at any time, and if you die or disappear it will be as you never existed.

So to see or know about women dressing up as cartoon sluts is the deepest hurt the non-prostituted can do to the prostituted class.

It is a game to you, it may be briefly empowering to you, it may be just some “ho and pimp” party for one night to you – but your fun is killing us.

As you dress as your inner slut – you refuse to see the consequences on the women and girls who been in or are in the sex trade.

Reclaiming slut is not a political act, it is just individual therapy – it is too selfish to be labelled as feminist or political.

WHORE

Instead of slut, there is a slow movement to reclaim whore for women.

This cannot be done, and it saddened me that some women speak over exited women to get back the word.

Whore has always used by the profiteers of the sex trade to give the illusion that they are women-friendly.

The trick is get into feminism the concept of the Sacred Whore – which is mostly made-up history and a play on feminist language.

It is the convenient concept that the whore is this unique being with supernatural sexual powers, with no human reach to pain or grief.

The myth of the whore is not only does she give endless sex to endless men – but she also is their carer, their confident, their comfort in wars.

The whore is never human – so men can any violence to her, men can use her and toss her away – or being a “goddess”, no harms can be done to the whore.

This male construction is making of temple whores, making of courtesans, making of escorts.

In reality, to be a whore is to trapped in a room with streams of punters who have enough money to be entitled to torture and murder at any time – for their power and privilege means it never a crime or even an event.

There is nothing empowering about being a whore – only in male porn fantasies, and why would any woman want to reclaim that.

END WORD

It so hard to write about language that is reclaim from the sex trade.

The reclaiming is naive for it takes no account that the sex trade is an institution that daily is destroying millions of prostituted women and girls.

Reclaiming these words is an individual act mainly by folks who refuse to view with a clear eye this genocide.

As you play with words, the prostituted are being tortured, sold into hell and losing their humanity.

We cannot reclaim these words – as each and every the prostituted are murdered and made to disappear.

There is no time to be that self-indulgent.