Tag Archives: diary of an escort

Dumped on my Wedding Day

The point of this post is not to slander, it is to create awareness. It is my hope that my experiences will be a learning lesson for others.

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I will start off by advising my readers: NEVER EVER Fall for Words or Promises that bare no fruits or action. To my young ladies, never EVER believe a man loves you if he is depriving you of significance or dignity. A man who truly loves you will show it with action. Love is so abused in today’s times and as Sheikh Mufti Menk says, “Often, ‘I love you’ these days is actually ‘I want to use you.‘”

My life as a sex worker has brought me, unintentionally, into a lot of sin. Even though my only intention in the sex industry was survival (I never wanted any part in the personal lives of my clients), I was still involved in a process that hurt others and myself.

It was never my choice to be in the sex trade — its a psychological trap. I thought love was the cure, but I was wrong. The one who claimed to love me reminded me nearly daily that I was hopeless — it made him feel powerful to drain any ounce of joy I had left. He would further get angry at me if I defended myself or called him out on his false promises.

I am sure the ones I have hurt will be happy to know that my life is meaningless and I will forever be deprived of wholesome love. I am unable to trust. I was a fool to hope or dream before. Love has hurt to the extent that I no longer welcome it in my life — this journey of life will always be lonely. Alhamdulilah.

Two days ago, I was abandoned on the day of my Nikkah (Islamic marriage).

Almost one year prior in February 2017, I was abandoned previously by the same man. Despite he effortlessly left me alone without a concern for my well-being, he came back to me later in 2017. Some words he said were:

“In all honesty I was/am prepared to abandon anyone who disagrees with our union.”

“Somehow you are still in the same place you were a few months ago and I’m still madly in love with you. If nothing has changed in your situation have you at least come to grips with the mistake we have made?(exiting from each others lives)”

I never exited from his life. I was ready to start a halal life. It was him who essentially told me that I was unwanted and that he won’t fight for us anymore. I was abandoned. To cope, I had to actually write large memos all over my home to stop myself from falling into a debilitating depression. I had to remind myself, He never loved me. Love would not let me walk away alone and helpless, love would not leave me to be single and open for other men to take my hand. It was false love.” 

When he tried to come back to me late last year, he spoke beautiful words to me. I agreed to meet him. He spent an entire evening apologizing to me — he brought a diary which supposedly had poems written about me, and us. For a short lived period, he was kind to me. He even then read out 25 things he loves about me. He apologized for abandoning me. He apologized for mistreating me. He told me nothing else in the world matters anymore and gave me the impression that he would fight against all barriers to be with me. He spoke beautiful words about how it was his goal to get me out of the sex industry. And because I had empathy for his ‘issues’, I wanted so badly to believe he was sincere — I took him back after months of his proclamations of love. Very shortly after, it was apparent that all of his remorse was words only.

“Go back to fucking other men!” “You will never change” “I love you! I will get help!” “I won’t abandon you again.”

It was not as if my expectations were unreasonable. I made it so simple — too simple. And yet, shortly after I took him back, he began reverting back to his old ways. It is clear now, given the way he treated me and spoke to me, that I was a burden for him. There was no loving support, nor a hand to hold mine and tell me, “I am here, you are loved, your worries are mine and I will protect you.” There was no Mirza who came on a horse to take me away. I am no Sahiba.

He had also won me back with sweet words in previous years, only to leave me broken and abandoned. All the times he had abandoned me, I began to see a pattern of his — the only reasoning for his behavior was that he was using me. He knew that I would give in and give my body willingly if I believed he loved me. His efforts and kindness were always short lived and he changed drastically once he got what he wanted. Whenever he came back, he convinced me that he did, in fact, love me for who I was — yet I questioned this ‘love’ once he reverted back to his bullying and neglect. He thrived off bullying me. Each time he abandoned me or pushed me away to the point I had to leave him, I was broken even more. I stopped giving my body. He would blame me for his sexual frustration. He would blame me for asking for nikkah (marriage). He would constantly accuse me of cheating or blow up at me for being a sex worker. He would blame me for defending myself. And then he would abandon me always once I was drained and emotionally destroyed. He never cared, he never loved. I was never wanted. He became very angry once things started getting serious, because it meant he actually had to start taking action and responsibility for me –which he never did. I can accept if someone doesn’t want me, but he convinced me otherwise and promised marriage.

My doubts were real and now confirmed. I was not a human to this person. I was an object. All of my emotions and well being never meant anything. I was a sex object. I, as a person, was never wanted — in fact, I was a burden. I was promised love and protection, promised a halal life — I was made to dream, and I was abandoned effortlessly not once, but multiple times. Indeed, I am a fool for believing a person would not behave so cruelly.

3 Days Before the Marriage:

The happiest day of a woman’s life, right?

I don’t even know why I am doing it. I have a faint, childish hope that the one who once claimed to love me…..that he will actually start loving me. But I know better also, I know that hoping and dreaming is pointless for me.

And days away, it will be a nikkah. No ceremony. Just in front of Allah. And it may not even happen — things have always been fragile and insecure with this person.

There is no excitement, nor will their ever be. Though the nikkah is between two people, I am the only one who has pushed for it. The other party is making it very obvious that it is unwanted and it is a burden. In fact, I have just been told that no consummation will occur, as it will be easier to divorce me this way. No celebration. Nothing. All the promises and hopes that once filled my head have amounted to nothing. I am an utter fool. Last week, I wanted to feel excited for something. I thought about what I will wear, about what food to bring to the mosque, about staying in a hotel, about photos, about a new life! — what a fool I am.

Only tears of pain and fear have resulted from the unwanted date to come in a few days….it was only wanted by me. But it is okay. I ask myself why I have this foolish hope — hope that doesn’t exist at all.

And I am told to write a promise letter. I wasn’t told, I was threatened.  I am to promise  that I will stop being the whore that I was and to ‘prove’ that I am capable of not whoring myself. I am not trusted, and reminded every day of how untrustworthy I am. Despite he should be the one begging for my forgiveness, despite he came back to me after neglecting me, despite he said he accepted me and nothing else matters… here I am now, proving that I deserve his love. 

I know I have made mistakes too, which is why I made excuses for his lack of effort in making me significant — he is also hurting. But how am I suppose to remain stoic when someone keeps punishing me for things that is in the past? He came back to me fully knowing of what had happened in the past, and he even admitted it was not correct in how he treated me in the past as a result. Why I am still being punished despite I have left my life of sin? Everything I have done is out of love. All I wanted was a halal outlet to give love, and yet he keeps delaying and denying that to me as a Muslim woman.  If Allah can forgive me, why can’t he also forgive me? Does he not see my heart? Does he not see all the small things I have done to show that my heart is sincere and loyal to him? Why else would I have done the things I did except out of love? Yet at every moment, he couldn’t stop finding reasons to pick on me. This made me go into self-defence mode, and in order to guard my heart from being hurt like before, I very bluntly told him that I fear he is using me and I will not tolerate that. Why couldn’t he just take my hands and say, “Okay, no more. I will start loving you now.” Why couldn’t he make the correlation that loving me, making me halal and building me up would in turn make me trust me him and therefore treat him as the respectful man he wanted to be? All the energy he had to be angry at me, why couldn’t he just tunnel that energy into love instead?

All these thoughts make my cry, because at this point I am hopeless, not by choice. I never wanted things to be this way. But sadly, what I envisioned is not going to happen. All the anticipation, the hopes…have died. And for what? Pride? Power? Proving a point? Astagfiroulla. 

One Day Before the Marriage:

Tomorrow will be a cruel joke. He promised to marry me before the end of 2017. But he broke that promise, and I gave him yet another chance. Then, he promised to marry me on this date, which is tomorrow.

Tomorrow, I will show up alone, abandoned… I know it.

No glow in my face. Too much tears, trauma, lack of sleep, too much sleep, fears and internal pain. I have been telling him for months, “Please have the courtesy of telling me if I am wanted or not, don’t leave me in limbo.” 

He has abandoned me many times. It happened before, it can happened again.

Tomorrow, I will come alone to the Masjid to cry. Cry to Allah. I only have Allah.

There is no excitement. I have been ridiculed and emotionally abused for the past two weeks, let alone the past couple of years. Why? Because I questioned why he keeps delaying giving me significance, and I question why he keeps fighting with me for all the reasons he once apologized for. He gets furious when I ask for significance — as if it is a terrible burden for him. And when I point out how his promises have amounted to nothing, he gets more furious.

In a moment of anger, two weeks ago, I snapped and called him a hypocrite. The definition of a hypocrite I was referring to was the following: (1) When He speaks, He speaks Lies (2) When he makes a promise, he breaks it and (3) When he is trusted, he betrays his trust. His typical pattern was to be consistently mean to me until I snapped. And I snapped two weeks ago. I broke down. I then stood up for myself and said “When a man loves a woman, he will not treat her this way! This is unacceptable. I have known men who would never behave this way and I have been treated better.”

That made him extremely angry, and for that, I was belittled every single day up until now. I made excuses for him. Just let him vent his anger at me. He convinced me that I deserve his anger and wrath. I shouldn’t have called him out. I shouldn’t have told him I have been treated better. I made excuses for him. Despite he has actually broken promises, betrayed trust, abandoned me before, and was delaying marriage for no reason, it was still my fault. Suddenly now, I was apologizing and worried for him — despite he has broken me and he will end up hurting me tomorrow. I know it. 

The Day of the Marriage

I was dumped two hours before we were proposed to do the nikkah at the Mosque. 

Today was my wedding day. It never happened. It was supposed to happen around 7pm just after Isha prayers.

Earlier today, in the morning, I had to attend a family members graduation ceremony. Everyone was filled with happiness and joy. I wanted so badly to be happy with my family too. But just as everyone was jumping and cheering for joy, I started crying out loud and ran to the washroom to lock myself and cry. Shaking. Nobody noticed, I wouldn’t let anyone notice. During the whole graduation ceremony, he was texting me hostile and abusive messages — once again, I let him just vent his anger to me, even though I know it’s not acceptable. I began crying because I knew he was only going to hurt me — I was crying because everything he promised me was now clearly a lie. I was duped. I was crying because I never believed that someone who loved me could hurt me like this. He came back to me, he apologized and now he is doing exactly what he said he wouldn’t do. I have never broken down in public like that and felt such tremendous fear. 

Then I dried my tears, yet my eyes were red. I was shaking. I wanted to disappear, but I was stuck in a crowd of happy people celebrating. And then, at last, I ran to my car and parked in an isolated area to cry. My family needed me to drive others, so I wiped my tears again and picked them up. How could I explain to them why I just disappeared on such a joyous occasion?

I made an excuse that I was having really bad allergies, which is why I my eyes were red and my nose was sniffling.

Yesterday was the same. I was heart broken in tears. Like a fool, I still tried to remain optimistic about the wedding. I knew he was going to hurt me, but I still had a faint hope that he wasn’t such a monster to actually abandon me after leading me on for all this time. Yesterday, I got sweets and a gift for the caretaker at the Masjid. Meanwhile, I was bombarded with angry, abusive text messages from him. He was behaving as he had in the past — blaming me for his anger. I kept pleading with him to just be honest with me, I have been pleading with him for months, “Don’t lead me on!” “Why did you come back to me and make all these promises then?” That day, I cried in my car for almost 2 hours. Each tear I thought about all the sweet nothings he used to tell me. And then I reminded myself of how foolish I am to even hope for anything. How cruel to tell a prostitute to hope, when hope is against her. 

“We will go ring shopping.”

“What do you think about moving to this city together babe?”

“Let’s move in a new place together babe, a new start”

But as always, at every step I was let down. It is not as if I was expecting. I know all too well not to expect. This was the bare minimum. He would make me dream, only to snatch it from me and then emotionally abuse me for asking “Why not?”

He kept calling me hours up until the nikkah. He was fuming with anger, and I have no idea why. He said it was all my fault at why he was angry. I was told with fuming anger, “LISTEN I WILL ONLY MARRY YOU IF YOU AGREE TO LISTEN TO EVERYTHING I SAY. IF I SAY JUMP YOU WILL JUMP OKAY? I WILL NOT TOLERATE YOU NOT LISTENING TO ME ANYMORE! I SWEAR TO GOD I WILL BEAT YOU IF YOU PROVOKE ME AFTER MARRIAGE, DO YOU UNDERSTAND??!!” Usually, I defended myself, but there was no point. I was broken. I listened to him belittle me the whole day — I agreed to everything he said, even his threats. And then finally, two hours before the nikkah, he tells me he cannot do it and says “Goodbye.”

I decided to go to the Masjid anyways. I wore my new abaya. I did my make up. I showed up at the masjid alone. I knew I would be alone. I needed to feel close to Allah. 

I got to the Masjid in the evening. The few sisters who remained at the Masjid were informed that it was the day of my Nikkah. I came in, and the sister greeted me with a big smile. I was greeted and told how pretty I looked. The sisters looked at me with excitement. The sister who organized my nikkah looked at me with bright eyes and a big smile, “I have just told the other sisters that it’s your nikkah today!” My eyes water and I just look down and said, “No. Nothing.” The other sisters came to me also with excitement, and tears filled my eyes. We all said, “Alhamdulilah” Praise to Allah. 


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Final Notes: One reason the film Pakeezah is a favorite of mine and brings tears is because it addresses the main conflict for a prostitute: our innocent yearning for love and the bitter realization that we can never have love.

At the end of the film, Pakeezah is not only defeated, but traumatized. She cannot stop hearing imaginary voices of outsiders calling her derogatory terms, reminding her that she will never be anything but a whore. In tears, she realizes her fate:

Yes. My vagabond dead body has returned to be buried in this colorful tomb (she has return to the brothel)

Yes. Every whore is a dead body. I am a dead body and you are too. (She says to a fellow courtesan)

The marketplace (brothel district) is a graveyard.. of women whose’s souls are dead but the bodies remain alive

These mansions (homes or brothels) are our tombs, in which the living coffins of we dead women are kept after being decorated.

Our coffins are left open so that....*she gasps in tears*

I am a restless dead body in one such open coffin, which is lured by life again and again..

..But now, I’ve got fed up with of my waywardness and this treachery on the part of life. I’ve got tired of it. 

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In Islam, relations between unrelated males and females is prohibited. The reasoning is that unregulated mixing results in what has happened to me and many other social ills. Men and women, though equal, are different. Women need wholesome protection. Men were created to protect women. Because I never had this, this is a strong contributing factor to how I ended up in the sex industry. I spent so many years trying to observe why certain women are susceptible to the sex industry and why some are not. Without a doubt, a woman who comes from wholesome, caring family will not find herself in prostitution.

From all this pain, I say Alhamdulilah (All praise belongs to Allah). There were many lessons that had to be learnt from this. Trials invoke one to only hope and strive for Allah, the Creator. From this pain, I have learnt my only true protector is Allah. For the one who caused me pain, I hope that you, too, will be guided back to Allah.

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Filed under Dealing with Depression, Emotional Aspects Related to Escorting

Sex & Different Types of Men

Groups of People

The Premise: A Man has the Urge to have Sex without Commitment. 

The Deal Breaker:

Woman 1: I only consent for money or love (most prostitutes).

Woman 2: I only consent for love ( this could be through marriage only or the equivalent, a committed relationship).

Woman 3: I only consent for money (typically, very hardened prostitutes).

Woman 4: I only consent for attention/fun (deep down, this type actually craves love and wants to consent only for love, but she mistakenly believes that attention will compensate for love).

The Response:

Man 1 “Mr. Fairness”: I will pay a woman to be able to sleep with her so she gets something to satisfy her and so do I. I am only comfortable if she is comfortable, and she is not demeaned nor exploited in this transaction — it is fair to her.

Man 2 “Mr. Entitlement”: I will pay a woman to have my way with her. Mr. Entitlement has the ‘decency’ to realize the she should get paid, but is indifferent to the woman’s overall well being. For him, he is a paying customer and he is entitled to service. *Note: Some Mr.Entitlements despise the fact they have to pay — why can’t women just serve our sexual needs for free!

Man 3 “The Predator”: I will use physical force to take a woman (against her will) to get sex. Zero empathy.

Man 4 “The Wholesome Man”: I would never just sleep with a woman for sex only and then just leave her once I satisfied my urge. She is not an object to use, she is human with feelings like my mother, sisters, aunts, etc. *He grew up with love and/or strong moral structure. She is someones daughter, wife, mother, etc. He has empathy for women.*

Man 5 “The Wholesome Client”: I will pay her for her time, and do whatever she is comfortable with. If she is inclined and the feelings are right, I would love to commit to her (because I want love and commitment above all).  I respect her as a human being and would never want to make her feel neglected. But If she only desires a business arrangement and she is not open to love, then I will politely remain as a loving client.

Man 6: “The Monster”I will neither pay her nor love her. But since women wont accept that, I will promise her love and protection so she will give me her body. The naive women, who have a poor concept of love (usually Daddy issue’s), are the easiest to dupe with the “I love you” trick. Finesse them hoes! *The Monster then ‘high-fives’ his fellow soulless comrades in online forums, or he gets reassurance in his beloved ‘rap’ beats that glorify the exploitation of women.* This “Monster” type of man is very dangerous for women, because they appear charming and are often are very gifted in manipulation (ie: knowing exactly how to make a woman trust them).

*PS: Yes, women can be manipulators too — read until the end..


The Big Question – Why?

What makes some women only want money when dealing with men? What makes some men use violence against women? What makes some men have great respect and admiration for women?

The Answer: Circumstances (Society, Upbringing, Influences)

A great quote I once heard was, “Different cultures produce different kinds of people.” (Wade Davis). This was in reference to an indigenous Amazonian tribe whose cultural values instilled people to protect Mother Nature. This was compared to the cultural values of the West, where perpetual growth and consumerism teach one to indirectly harm/destroy Mother Nature.

Imagine a culture where the family structure is strong, community is strong, the cultural music is about unity, love and wholesome masculinity/femininity — the cultural values are about “we”, thriftiness, kindness, discipline, gratitude — young children grew up on wholesome proverbs/wisdom from their elders — what sort of person does this produce? 

Imagine a culture where young teens are influenced to hate themselves for whom they are, whom are told to focus on “I” instead of “we”, whom are given zero or contradicting guidance on life and how to be a man/woman, whom are told their body parts need to be altered, whom are told their worth is their accumulation of material objects, whom are told that the opposite sex is to be feared and doubted (ie: feminism & misogyny), whom are told they must fend for themselves and the only means of survival/belonging is chasing money — if you’re a woman, your value is in your body parts and that’s how men have been told to value you — if you’re a man, your value in how much money you have and you’re subjected to endless sexual imagery to weaken your ambition to nothing — what sort of person does this produce?

Many societal influences, in the West, are intentionally aimed at destruction of the soul, destruction of the family and unity as a whole. We have men and women who are pitted against each other — so what is the result when men cannot trust women, and vice versa? What happens in a hyper-sexualized society when women are reduced to body parts and men are taught to view women as just our bodies? What happens when pious men and women are told to keep searching for something “better” than what they already have? This is a breeding ground for hate, apathy, narcissism, sociopathy. 


 

Laila, The One Who Cheats Men

When I meet people with a heartless mentality, I wonder: how did they become that way? Even I need to reflect on myself, because I have made many mistakes. I once knew a woman who viewed ALL men as the same: to her they were Womanizers, Cheaters, Liars. Ironically, she was also an escort. She became heartless to the extent that she would deceive and manipulate all men she encountered for money. She placed all her worth in her appearance. By doing so, she reaffirmed her belief that all men wanted to use her because she essentially attracted the same type of men. **Ladies, when you invest only into your appearance, you will attract the worst kind of men with the sole intention to sleep with you and discard you** So how did she become this way? She once broke down and poured her heart out to me. I learnt that she had been severely hurt, exploited and neglected by false love — she had been duped by a “Monster” (Man #6). She was once an innocent girl, whom only wanted love, and then she became depressed and suicidal, and she was convinced that all men were like the “Monster.” And thus, she reacted by believing her value was only in her body parts. After that, she attracted men who only wanted her body — once or twice and that’s it. They used her, so she used them — that was her motto. I knew she was hurting, deep down, for being used as an object, but she could not stop objectifying herself. She was convinced that she needed more plastic surgery or sexy photos to find the love she deeply craved deep down — in fact, by doing so, she was pushing herself further away from wholesome love. Nevertheless I understood why she was hurting, because I know the feeling of neglect. All escorts come from some form of neglect. The difference between her and I was that we simply reacted in a different way.  I realized that not all men are the same — different types of men existed. Decent men exist, men who valued women for their inner beauty above all. I made a conscious effort to stay away from men who exhibited shallow values. Unfortunately, it is not always easy to tell who is genuine or not, as soulless men and women often wear a cloak of ‘charm’ to entice their prey.

The point of Laila’s story is to highlight how she became heartless because she, herself, was hurt, exploited and used. Ironic — the same rule can be applied to heartless men: society & circumstances can turn people to become heartless and apathetic. 

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Finally, this is a great video for women who have been neglected — from an Islamic perspective, it reiterates the point on why women resort to objectifying themselves when they are deprived of wholesome love.

To My Readers, both Men and Women: Which one are you? What is your Stance?

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Filed under Facts About the Sex Industry, The Escorting Business, Types of Clients, Types of Prostitutes

Why Prostitutes Do Not Trust

Many prostitutes are very hard-headed and guarded due to being hurt, exploited and having little-to-no wholesome care. Being guarded, acting with indifference, self-destructive behavior, and not trusting are some resulting defence mechanisms. A wise prostitute, however, knows that NOT all men are the same — both good and bad exist. Likewise, good and bad also exists in women.

How do we know the contents of anothers’ character and their intent? It’s not easy, but generally actions and patterns tell everything.

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Listen you dumb whore. You are unworthy of love and all the other blessings bestowed to people who don’t sell themselves.  You opened your legs for money, so you are nothing more than the dust beneath shoes. It is your fault you are in this situation. You are a lazy woman who chooses this life, and you are too lazy to work hard like everyone else! 

You come from a broken home? You’ve been exploited? You say you want out of this life? That’s a lie.  Moreover, that’s not an excuse to be a whore who does filthy things for money. That’s why you are NOT worthy of significance! You are a shameless, disgusting whore, and that is all you will ever be. Get out of my life and don’t ever talk to me. I don’t want a whore in my life.

*A giant boot stomps hard on a once vibrant flower, breaking its stems and leaves further.*

When the flower experiences this ambush of cruelty, she starts to wilt rapidly. The water that nourished her slowly dries up, and the harmful force of salt keeps destroying the roots of her being. 

I am sorry! I never meant those words! I don’t care that you are a prostitute or if you’ve had every man …you are the most pure thing that I have ever known! Please forgive me, I have changed! I realized how hurtful I was to you and those I care about.  I know this life has not been easy for you. I was wrong to say those things before. I lov-e…….

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A Courtesans’ Perspective: Fragments of Thought

Lately, I am reluctant to share my thoughts. Sometimes I see no purpose to continue writing at all, but then I’m reminded of how my writings can, perhaps, comfort and help others with similar experiences. Rather than a usual post,  this post contains fragments of my writings in recent months.

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(…) I am immersed in emptiness. Yet this lonesome exile inspires my poems. Had everything remained glorious, would I ever conceive these poems? These thoughts brew endlessly in sleepless nights. If you see beauty in my words, then please know that they are the result of pain and tears.

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(…) At least, with your protective arms, I could forget the world. Forget all my worries. But now, there is no hope. No security. No protective love from you. Everything is gone. I want to escape so desperately. But I can’t. I am on my own. And this debauched society tells people to be ‘independent,’ in an effort to mask their exploitative interests. Yes, I am praised for being ‘independent,’ yet this made me further isolated from warmth and belonging — who did this really benefit after all?

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On “The Impact of Travels” :

(…) When I was in my early teenage years, I remember walking along a narrow lane in a busy city in Northern China. I was starting to become aware of my rapidly blossoming womanly body. My appearance caused the attention of onlookers, who first complimented my appearance and then ask “Where are you from?” Ethnic wise, I can be anything from Turkish to Turkmenistani, so whenever I travel internationally people often assume I am mixed with their local culture. As I walked along, an elder man, who seemed to look like a holy man of some sort, stopped before me. He bowed at my feet and then apparently blessed me. These early instances of superficial admiration started to build my growing sense of self..

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(…) I realize my daily routine is really just feeding someone else’s dream. Countless hours spent studying, reading. And I do this with painstaking joy and curiosity. But why through these elitist institutions? It’s very discouraging when realizing that most of our lives have been strategically tailored to maintaining a system of profit and greed. 

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Poetry:

(…)Let me wither away. Let me be like a corpse, a dead body, attracting all the vultures. Let them feast upon my body until it’s empty. What is the point to remain a half-dead body? 

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“Hopeless Moment” :

I cannot bear to be a burden to anyone anymore, so I stay in my own prison. If I don’t sell my dead body, then my savings will go dwindling, just like my heart. How can an escort remain successful when she is dead inside? My success is tied to my sense of hope — but how does one continue this work when all hope is faded? This smile is so fragile. I cannot bear to be fake, but I have too. 

My ‘sweetness’ is fragile, and I pray that good men will approach me. I fear the bad side of this industry, as I’m far too weak, at this particular moment, to deal with the bad seeds. And sadly, bad seeds are increasingly abundant….

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On “Annoyances of Advertising” :

In a perfect world, I could advertise and only lovely men would contact me. But in reality, my carefully outlined website isn’t enough to deter morons from contacting me and wasting my time. Yes, there are hungry vultures of men who sit on their computers, calling up escorts and inevitably waste our time. They have no sense of courtesy or respect. I ignore these types, yet unfortunately they are part of the process of sifting good potential clients from bad ones. I must say thanks to God, because my clients are lovely men who are deeply respectful. But sadly, an escort has to encounter the BAD to see the GOOD. And even worse, sometimes it’s not so easy to tell the good from the bad. 

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On “The Doctor: an ‘Endowed’ Client” :

(…) I was not used to his endowed thickness. He was too lovely to deny, so I wanted to try. He asked, sweetly, “Are you okay?” I told him, “Yes,” and motioned him to continue pushing it inside me. Whilst this handsome young doctor was attempting to fill me with his thickness, I was fantasizing that my previous lovers were watching me take it. I expressed this fantasy to another client, Mr.Zee, last night. Whilst he penetrated me very passionately, I said, “I wish a group of young handsome men are watching us, would you be shy?”

At times, that’s one of my main fantasies: to have my lovers watch me getting so wet and horny for another handsome man’s thickness. I want my lovers to get angry, yet at the same time see their manhood getting immensely hard. And then, my lover, of course, gets his turn after the other(s) finish. I do not actually consider doing this fantasy, but talking about it can be exciting…

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On “My Heart and Love Cannot be Bought” :

I swear, it is really the most strangest feeling to be extremely sad, hopeless, unhappy whilst simultaneously laying in the arms of a man who thinks you are a Goddess. I can illustrate this by narrating a client I recently saw. This client was of similar origins to myself. He saw me and couldn’t stop praising me. He said I was his dream girl, and he wanted to dedicate the entire appointment to praising me. His flattery was along the lines of “I’ve been dreaming about the most perfect girl all my life, and it is you.” He literally was licking and kissing my body for 2 hours. After he made me orgasm, he insisted that I come again, and again. Eventually, I had to forcefully push his head away from between my thighs. I found his sweetness very lovely, and felt very thankful for it. But I knew what he wanted — he wanted love. And I have no love in my heart to give him, except for the moments he paid for. He reminded me of my ex-fiance, who went to all lengths to make me feel pleased and happy in the most selfless manner. I feel sad that I cannot give him the love he desires. 

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Without love, everything can seem so pointless. Why aspire to anything if life is going to be lonesome and meaningless? And ironically, there is love all around me. I do have men who love and admire me, offering me the life I dream about. But I do not love them. I cannot force myself to love someone. I want nobody else. I have no desire to meet others. My heart is in exile. 

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Poetic Thoughts:

Let me burn. Let me burn until there’s nothing left. I swear, I am only a body now. My soul has departed. Like Pakeezah called herself, I am just “a dead body.” I am a beautiful body, who’s dead inside. I am painted with kohl and red lipstick, appearing like an elegant beauty of exotic regions. Once, this beautiful body and face was filled with light within, but now, everything is gloom.

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More on “My heart and love is not for sale” :

(…) Lately, I’ve met too many single clients who are trying to get a relationship. Most are humble and respectful about it, which doesn’t bother me. But some are arrogant, who mistakenly think they can impress me with their money and so-called ‘success.’ To the arrogant types, I feel like saying, “I’ve had much BETTER than you. I’d rather DIE than settle with you.” Yes, that’s extremely harsh, but honestly sometimes that is what I feel. One overly-confident client asked, “If a man supported you financially, would you be with him?” And I said, “Only if I loved him, but otherwise no.” No, my love is not for sale. 

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I am back in hell. Silenced. I do not dare to share my pain with clients, or anyone. If I wanted to, I can be loved and cared for. But I don’t want to be near somebody I don’t love. I’d rather sulk alone. I don’t want pity. The only one who can console me is the one who just died. 

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(…) and these nights drenched in tears, surrounded by abundance, has made me realize the most invaluable purpose of life: God (love). 

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On “Mourning” :

It feels like I’ve spent these weeks in mourning. Mourning, yet there is no comfort in the sense of closure. Finally, I went to a place of death, where there is only mourning. And I cried. I was shocked at myself, as I almost never cry in front of strangers. Everyone around me was crying, and somehow I absorbed their pain too. But for the most, my tears were in vain, as I was mourning the death of my own love. And how does one mourn when their heart is shattered? How does one just continue in life? Life can never be the same. 

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