Where do I begin? I didn't think that I would have the words to tell you how I feel on my one year anniversary of working in a brothel. Twenty four hours ago I wasn't even thinking about it. Twelve hours ago I was getting drunk, and a year ago at this hour I was sitting in a kitchen in a brothel, that looked so alien to me I couldn't even imagine what was in store for me. I remember how I felt boarding those planes to Nevada, I remember trying to imagine the things that would happen to me, the people I would meet and how it would train me to be a different kind of person.
Let's start twelve hours ago, I was getting drunk, I'm still drunk. I was sitting with the love of my life, at a bar, and we were getting drunk. Sometime between four am and six it all began to get blurry. I remember the conversation revolving around me being more open, about what I want, about making decisions. So I decided we needed another round. In the hindsight of it all maybe I didn't make the responsible choice, because I am convinced that if I was more responsible I wouldn't feel today the way I do. We went home and went to bed after this, and what did I do that I never do, I slept through my alarms, two to be exact. I never do that. I'm always punctual, the theatre made me so, but with the alcohols aid and the fact that when I am in bed lying next to him I feel most happy and peaceful, my subconcious didn't want me to get up.
My day has been off ever since. I can't get it together. I sped to work half drunk and half hung over. I climbed into a shower that I enevitably collapsed in and cried like a baby. I laid in my bed and didn't make line ups because I looked haggard and I wandered around the house aimlessly. Eventually the bartender sensing something was wrong told me I could talk to her if I needed to, and served me a beer and a shot and I sat crying into my liquor.
Today has not been my day.
So how can I reflect on this. A year of my life has been spent in a legal brothel, I've only taken five weeks off the whole year. I work seven days a week, twelve hours a day and plenty more overtime to be able to pay my bills.
I've had good days, bad days and everything in between. Let's just say this year has been a roller coaster. So what have I learned? What basic epiphany can I take away from all of this? HUMAN IS HUMAN. That's as basic as I can get here. Humans are animals, were rude, crude and wonderful. Were just trying to make it work. Survive. Piece all this shit together and live, then die. Sex is a part of life. Most of all I've experienced my most human emotions, connected with anger and jealousy and love and joy.
So what have I learned about myself? I'M ALIVE. I've always felt that no matter how young I am I was always 24 going on 40. So young but inching closer and closer to the conclusion that life had nothing more to offer me than what I already had. Let's just say I've lived a colorful life so far, I'm intelligent and pretty and never stopping, I moved six times in one year for christ sakes and I never thought I would stop, but now I know what I want. Most of all I just want to go home at the end of the night, climb into bed with the person I love most and just have a moment to forget all the crazy things in life. I want to be stable for a moment.
In the past year I've fucked a lot of people, drank way too much, been harassed, cried a lot more than usual, laughed a lot more than usual, lost some friends, gained some friends, I've been loyal and honest, I've done some things that maybe I'm not so proud of, and I've fallen in love.
I think I've experienced enough.
Most of all I'm learning to be completely open, I have the person I love to thank for this, all he asks is for me to be honest and open, and that's something that's never come easy to me. I think all of this happened for a reason, the people I've met, the experiences, it's all for a reason. And most of all that thing about being more open can only make me a better writer and artist in the end.
So I'm inching closer to who I am supposed to be in this life. I can only hope that maybe it all can settle down long enough for me to write that last great american novel.
