Anastasia

Prostitution vs Brothels.

While I personally don't ever plan on breaking the law just to feel the comfort of another person's body, I feel like the only reason it is illegal to sell sex, is power.

Power of the churches to keep the world from "Descending into Sin" and giving women more power over their bodies.

Think about the times we hear about every time we watch a biblical type movie, back when "The Whore of Babalon" was deemed a part of the apocalypse coming. Who foresaw this? The church. Who is the Whore? A woman who finds a way to make money using her "God Given" gifts.

I don't want this to be an anti-religion post so I am moving on.

I understand the illegality of prostitution, It's dangerous for people to just go out, find a person who is selling their body, and do it. With diseases mutating so rapidly and becoming drug resistant, it would only be a matter of time till you couldn't trust having sex with anybody, even someone who hasn't had sex yet.

So that brings me to brothels, and other services like them. "Companion" services. Much like other things, if it's regulated, we wouldn't have to worry as much, barring negligence on the part of the business owners and laws protecting people and employees.

Some places have already come to the realization that it's a money making business. While I am not saying money buys happiness, it sure does buy things that make people happy, since joy isn't always so freely given.

I have always been attracted to the strong and skilled woman, rather than the women who just skate by.

The latest crush, Sun from Sense8. She's strong, powerful, and has a duty to herself and those she cares for.

She takes all of the responsibilities of those around her, and makes them hers.

It has nothing to do with how beautiful she is. Though she is quite beautiful.

Not always about Transgender issues, sometimes for the random thoughts that pop into my head. Those ideas that are either too funny or too serious to just put into a note on my phone. Those unrefined nuggets of what actually could make into a good project, be it a short story or a long series of books or television shows.

I need someone to play ball with, a mutual idea person. I have so many thoughts that the notes on my phone don't make sense a week later when I try to organize them.

I normally can push forward and get through it. There are days, nights, and weeks though that I can't seem to shake that wrenching pain of hatred towards a part of me when I look at it in either a mirror or my phone. It's usually my chest or neck.

I have way too much hair on my body, and it makes me want to take fire to it.

When I was younger, I always considered myself a romantic. The women I was interested in would receive the kindest, most heartfelt treatment from me, and everyone else got the basic treatment of kindness. I would go out of my way to make people welcome in my circle of friends, though they often laughed at us and went on to the non outsider groups, or would treat us like garbage.

But I didn't take it personally, we were odd, and that's how we liked it.

My first kiss, which happened during summer break of 2006, I was kind of pathetically in love with a girl that lived states away from me, here in the USA. Farmington, New Mexico, I just turned 17 a few months before.

At that time, I had a life ahead of me, planned with this girl. I would be an actor, and she, a director. I was going to be famous, and be famously trotting about with her.

Off track, sorry.

It was hot, her grandmother was inside, silently keeping watch over us as we swam in the above ground pool in the back yard. One of my best friends was there, visiting his girlfriend aswell, honestly, the only reason my dad let me go.

They had gone off elsewhere, and left us alone. I had it all planned over the last few nights. I would swim silently up beside her while her grandmother looked the other way, and wrap my arms around her. She would turn around, laugh, and I would bring my right hand up and caress her cheek, brush her hair to the side, and kiss her gently.

It turns out, you can trip in a swimming pool, over nothing while you're nervous.

I made enough noise that she turned around before I got to her. No soft hug from behind, no hair brushing out of the way, but I did manage to gather myself and cup her cheek and give her a small kiss.

She hated me for ruining her plans for the first kiss. But got over it when I told her how it was supposed to go.

That being said, I realized how cynical I have gotten when I heard the song Gorrila, by Bruno Mars? Anyway, you know how it goes...

How can you possibly expect someone to die for you just because you say you will for them? That is being selfish. Not just asking them to die for you, but what if they survive? That Grenade is going to leave them horribly scarred and possibly eating liquids through a tube for life. That train? nevermind. Ouch.

I know he is just being romantic, or whatever, but seriously? Drama much?

I hate that song, btw. If you couldn't tell.

I don't like being the girl that points out lyrical flaws and poor judgments, but there it is.

I really don't know what to call it. If I find you attractive, I find you attractive. I've been this way for a long time lol. But I have only ever been intimate with women. I noticed some men back when the first live action spiderman movies with Tobey Maguire came out, especially when he goes all emo. Most recently though, Brandon Flowers. Can I get a hell yeah?!

Sorry, had to.

His voice, his features, just... everything. I would love to just spend a day listening to him sing, though I don't know about intimacy. I am still not that far yet.

Got home from work yesterday to an empty house. My first thoughts were of all the things I could do while they were away! I could paint my toenails and walk barefoot till they got home, I could paint my fingernails in a clearcoat, in the front room, hell, I could sit shirtless and be lost in my own thoughts without others badgering me.

Then like everything happened at once, all I wanted to do was lay down. So I did. But did I sleep? Sadly no. All I could think about was all the things I have to do to get my life back on track.

I recently moved to the city to be closer to doctors/therapists, colleges, and a community of transgender people. In my hometown, there is an older transwoman, who is referred to as "He-she" and it sickens me to even consider being open there. It was my own mother that called her that, :(.