Archive for the 'entertainment' Category
For the years from the time that I started this blog, I branded myself for many years as the “Urban Geisha,” an “Educated Whore Revolutionary.” I knew even then, that I was nothing near a “real geisha” but I was fascinated with the idea that part of the geishas art, aside from enticing men was to learn instruments, dances and traditional arts, including the art of conversation. I prided myself at being the Urban artist of conversation because in honest reflection, I was never really that great at sexual acts during my escort years. Unless of course, I was attracted to the client or sometimes a client would surprise me with his abilities which didn’t match my usual “type.” This is what I liked about prostitution. It allowed me to experience people I wouldn’t usually allow in and, they had a 50/50 chance of doing me right despite the attraction factor. The majority of time, I was really being the “2pac of prostitution (activist/musician)” character and many of my clients were urban homies, non violent criminals, drug users and other exiles of society, like I was. We would do a bunch of lines until the sunrise and I would entertain them with my art of conversation while making money. Sex was maybe 25% of the SEX work that I did. Drug users were my favorites because of the fact that sex wasn’t so much a big part of it but keeping their lonely heart company while playing a facade was. And this was my definition of urban geisha. The other part that made me adopt the geisha moniker was because I was of Japanese heritage and I had the PASS TO CLAIM rights to my ancestry in America that the political activist community fights so hard to own and protect according to whichever heritage you can say you are part of. I HAD THIS PASS AND KIMONO CLAD KATIE PERRY DIDN’T as far as I was concerned. But, I was no different than any other displaced descendant of a home country than the Black African American who tries to remember Africa by wearing an emblem around his neck and changing his name to something more African. The reasons we do this in racist America are evident but often our efforts fall short of accuracy. I actually wasn’t any different than a disrespectfully appropriating Katy Perry who was just taking something she thought was exotic (and geisha are indeed RARE and Mysterious, even to Japanese today) and beautiful and creating a show around it for your pop culture entertainment and for you to be attracted to. But when white American people do it on stage though…!!
Now that I’ve spent some time in Japan, in actual observance and research of the true Japan and its culture I can see that many foreigners wear kimonos and the Japanese people are renting them to them for profit, but also to SHARE their culture correctly. Most Japanese would probabaly be happy and proud that Katy Perry were wearing kimono on a big U.S award show, except maybe for the fact that she is mixing a Chinese brocade neckline and high cut waist of a cheongsam with a Japanese kimono in her outfit. Hey, shes mixing BOTH OF MY ETHNICITIES! I should steal that dress from her! Did Katy wear white face and try to imitate a geisha, or is that what the media called it (because all kimono clad women are geisha apparently)? She was actually just a white foreigner appropriating Asian fashions and aesthetic, something that can be super controversial and oversimplified on both sides of racist America. Tourists rent kimono 100s if not 500 times on a good busy day throughout Japan as part of their sightseeing activities. Most of the kimono clad tourists in Japan these days are not even white folks, they are Chinese from China or Taiwan, but the point being that Japanese are happy to share and teach their kimono NOT their geisha customs. There are dressers in tourist shops who help foreigners put kimono on and they style all the accessories so the foreigner doesn’t fuck it up. It’s not a cheap Halloween costume by any means, and its usually very authentic. It is meant to be completely respectful sharing for tourists of Japan, as well as a profitable business to be in.
GEISHA ARE NOT PROSTITUTES and this was the biggest mistake I and other foreigners (mostly men who wish they were) make. They might get together with one wealthy client who becomes her sponsor/partner but mostly they are true entertainers, who are definitely erotic objects of desire but whose austerity around sexual partners makes her that much MORE attractive to seekers. An Urban geisha might be similar to a true burlesque entertainer who could climb a 50 foot pole and do gymnastics tricks to entertain in a g string and feather costume but who also never really had sex with those they entertain. Certainly that was NOT what I was trying to do. i was turning TRICKS. Having quick and dirty sex for profit and I saw my HUSTLING (business street and survival savvy) also as part of MY ART. The other part of my art came into play through writing my blog, speaking my activist truth, performing songs from the Whore Revolution. THAT WAS ALL MY GEISHA-NESS, as I saw it then. I only recently learned about the OIRAN, the kimono white faced entertainers that resembled the geisha in many ways except they were FLASHIER and THEY HAD SEX! Now THAT was more MARIKO PASSION for certainly. To my pleasant surprise, the Oiran traditional shoes were 8” platforms that required a male assistant to walk, which I would often recruit a random “escort” to help me not eat shit in heels on concrete. I regularly performed in 6” platforms in those days and I even had some “taka geta” (tall wooden slippers) of my own that I just threw away before I came to Japan but had owned since I was in my 20s before I even knew about Oiran (unconscious cultural memory!). In Japan, there are regular parades celebrating the Oiran Dochu and Edo period costumes without shame around the association with prostitution because many of the Oiran and Geisha at the time were sold by poverty stricken parents who had no choice for survival. The sad truth behind these parades is that they do not reference the truth of the women who lived these lives of sexual slavery, yes I really called it that.
The Oiran lived in a gated area, and they were not allowed to leave except to view cherry blossoms once a year. The photos that I’ve seen show them behind wooden bars over the windows. Many of them died of venereal diseases and were wrapped in straw and dumped in unmarked graves at the Buddhist temple Jokan Ji. Jokanji temple has the spirits of 25,000 Edo era sex workers buried there. i have plans to visit and report on it in a future blog. The Japanese government is known for the war crime of making Korean women into sex slaves for the Japanese soldiers, but what is also not said alongside the comfort women stories is that Karayuki San were the Japanese women who were indentured sex workers that were sent to other countries to service Japanese soldiers and other races of men overseas. I believe that karayuki san were also used for a short time to serve U.S military soldiers during their occupation in government sanctioned brothels as well. Many feminists in Korea and the U.S demanded the Japanese government apologize to the Korean comfort women, which occurred just in January of this year, 2016 but really, the Japanese should have to apologize and give reparations to the Karyukisans as well, but that would probably never happen as it was hard enough to get the apology and reparations to the Korean women. The government did actually put an end to the pleasure quarters of the Edo era, probably much in the same way that the sexual woodblock Ukiyoe prints became outlawed and banned so did the Oiran houses. The mizu shobai, or sex industry of course never died in Japan, it just changed form.
But there is ALWAYS MUCH BEAUTY in the darkness, darkness and light, yin and yang, just like in African slavery there were rich cultural traditions that survived and remained as a result of the struggle, oppression and captivity. If you are not allowed to leave an area and can’t choose the amount or safety of your clients or you will be punished with death or a beat down, you are or were a sexual slave.
I did an Oiran portrait at a Kyoto amusement park and I was excited and am excited still about looking into getting involved in participating in the parades in April 2017 but in reading more about the truth of the lives of the women and girls I wanted to ALSO be sure not to gloss over the facts, the way the Japanese government and many people who are fans of Oiran Dochu do so often. Having lived the beautiful struggle of a FREE and INDEPENDENT URBAN OIRAN for years, you can see just by scrolling through my escort entries that my life was no parade, but it wasnt slavery, and I suffered and struggled through some of it but there was much JOY, TRIUMPHS, LESSONS AND PLEASURE TOO. Music, art, activism and community WERE the things that I loved in sex work, FUCK THE SEX. Perhaps this was also the attitude of the Oiran and they poured their PASSION and life force into their arts in spite of it all.
What used to be the Yoshiwara Dori of the Edo Era is now Soaplands (kinda like massage parlors but soapier and mostly only for Japanese clients not foreigners). the women are free sex workers NOT and I say this too, NOT SEX SLAVES. They freely come and go to work, have families, test themselves and have safe sex so they don’t have the same UNHAPPY ENDING as the OIRAN of Edo did.
I’m not attracted to penis photos. Throbbing hard cock photos showing how long and hard and thick a man’s unit is? No. I don’t know why it is, I guess it’s what it really feels like to be queer when you say, this basic thing about the opposite sex does nothing for me when I LOOK at it.
That is to say, having it pounding inside of me is a whole different story. And sucking them, I love. Yes, I do. Giving a blowjob in a condom and having a man come inside my mouth in a condom is the best feeling ever. For those very special and few men in my life, swallowing their ejaculate is a sign of love and commitment to the act in my eyes. This is much more rare, than the condom blowjob, which I feel like I have to love in order to do it as often as I do. Even in relationships I barely swallow. Thus, the reason why I could never be a porn star. My porn star friend likes the taste of cum. You have to like aspects of your job, it’s really important if it’s the basics of the job and happens every day that you work.
I think I definitely like good looking pussy more. I look at Jenna Jameson’s pussy for instance and I think, god, I’d love to eat her pussy…I have porn mag pages in my kitchen w/ naked women and pussy all over but since I was 19 I stopped fantasizing about penis or men’s 6 packs or their hard bodies on my wall on in my bed. I would think it had to something with being sexually assaulted multiple times, but that started at 17 and by 19 I had already had my trust violated a number of times by men and still had these underwear photos showing guys in their 2xist underwear on my wall when I was in college. I remember one guy commenting on them, before he broke my heart, used me for sex and gave me the hard lesson that “dating” for most college guys did not mean monogamy. Was it all of the bad experiences that created a cognitive behavioral BLOCK? Is it possible to make someone GAY or straight by showing them pictures of dick or pussy and seeing if there is a reaction? Can you get the sensation of excitement back once it is gone? If this were true then all the “Straight Washing camps” for gay kids would have worked right?
So what’s yer problem then lady? Says the obnoxious rude male stripper.
I’m not attracted to male strippers. The male ego is something that I detest. But at the same time, perhaps it’s a love hate thing because I DO tend to get into these abusive relationships with machismo Latin guys. So I hate this thing about them, but then I find myself drawn to it, comforted by aspects of it. I can only think that the aspects of contrast are the things that I am most attracted to. I like being kissed softly on my forehead when a man greets me. I like being called sweetie by my boyfriends…
Male strippers don’t usually do those things, they’re all show, all physique all rock hard in your face thrusting, “dancing”..
So if you have someone like me who is attracted to being fucked really hard, but not physically attracted to the male physique it’s kind of a hard nut to crack on me, you see…
The male stripper troupes ala Chippendales and The Men Down Under are all showboys FULL OF EGO. These are guys who lift weights in front of the mirror at the gym (not at home) in front of others to be SEEN worshipping themselves. These are guys who have mirrors in their bedrooms so they can watch THEMSELVES fucking you to turn themselves on…
One of my clients turned free date (I know, I have to stop dating my clients, but I’m busy, it’s super easy, convenient and why stop when the ball is in my court?) was an EX male stripper from Seattle. One of the best in the U.S or the state, he supposedly “invented” a certain move. Sounds cliche, like “Blue Steel” in Zoolander, BUT IT WAS TRUE. He really talked this way! He would start to go off about these credentials and I would laugh or change the subject. He was 5’6″, total napoleon complex, had a reseeding hairline and hadn’t stripped for a decade or more (like me) and was now focusing on being a real actor like everyone else in LA.
He paid me for sex. This makes him a client. He was an obnoixious asshole that crossed a line with me, which relegates him down to the title of TRICK. (Client is a respected term).
He had just gone on a getaway trip w/ a Filipino widower to some tropical island for the weekend, where she was paying his way for his non sexual companionship to look at property that she was going to buy. All the women he dated were Asian. He was an Asiaphile complete w/ a colonizers mindset. “Oh, they’re so cute, I want to just collect them all!” he said referring to my friends in a video together…WTF, are you part of the conquering crew of Columbus or what? Why I kept giving him more time with me was really beyond me.
He was telling me about his trip w/ Pinay Diva Heiress and we were talking about what women want in a male escort. He was agreeing UNTIL the point where I told him that I should get him up on a panel to talk about being a male sex worker cuz lots of guys ask me how they could do what I do but for women. At that point he started raising his voice and going off about how he was NOT a sex worker, he didn’t have sex, he was not a prostitute, not that he thought anything badly of it. He was going to be a GREAT actor someday, blah blah blah.
“Okay, you are SHOUTING.” I said.” You need to calm down.”
I was about to go into a restaurant to eat. He was still barking somethings as the waitress came to my table to take my order and I put the phone down to order. Perhaps I hung it up. Probably. I didn’t really care to continue getting shouted at nevertheless and that was my KNEE JERK reaction to him.
This would happen in my previous relationships. I don’t usually shout back and forth. I hang up. We can continue this conversation when you are calm. Maybe I get it from my mom. She loves to hang up on me when things get heated. Or before they get heated. She just loves to hang up on me. This is why I barely called her in my adult life.
He then texts: I don’t appreciate being hung up on. It’s rude and I don’t care for it…Please don’t call me anymore.
Wow. I thought. That’s how you end your “romantic” affairs with people? That really leaves no room for growth on you, the offenders part. Of course, he would think that I was the offensive one for hanging up on him, but it’s just a boundary that I have with men. I don’t sit there and take abuse. No mas. No violencia por favor. Solo pasion y amor. Ironically this guy was a Spanish speaker and technically Latino although he looked white and passed as white in Hollywood and actually thought that the fact that I thought he was white was a compliment, like he “fit in.” (Oh, I have white priviledge? That’s a good thing, right?)
For some reason, I wasn’t thinking that I would stop talking to him that day, but since he put it that way, and asked me to not call him anymore, I thought about my last words to him.
Me: You are a trick and a whore and you know it. And that’s why u mad at me..
Zoolander: Cause you say so? That makes me that? I don’t fuck for money but I’m a whore, makes a lot of sense.
I was ready to just eat my tempura udon alone in peace and drop him without ANY sad thoughts. I tried to reason it out and tell him that stripping WAS a form of sex work before he started shouting, and definitely going to an island with someone as a male companion was ALSO a form of sex work, whether or not you have penetration or intercourse makes it a more obvious form of sex work but strippers who think that they are BETTER than prostitutes because they DON’T fuck are clueless, as are those ACTORS and ACTRESSES that think that the ways in which they SELL THEMSELVES is somehow BETTER than how the average escort sells herself are also living with a false sense of superiority, thinly covered by a latex condom. I think the last thing I heard him shouting before I hung up was,”I was one of the BEST strippers in Seattle, I’ve been a stripper wayyyy longer than you Mariko…” CLICK. Oops.
Actually, being a whore is not an insult coming from me. It’s an HONOR. If I call you a TRICK on the other hand, I’m just throwing the fact that you have a COCK and you have to PAY for your pussy in case you forgot and thought you were better than “all the other guys.”
Oh men and masculinity. What to do with it. Capitalize on it, that’s what! Otherwise, it would simply get the best of me I think.
I took this as a sign of success for me actually. I won’t let guys who date me raise their voices at me for no good reason. I hang up on those guys. And if they want to break up with me or cut me off for their behavior then goodbye goodbye goodbye.
(I also found out in my last relationship that I won’t let men threaten to kill or hurt me, even if they are wasted or “just kidding.” I break up with those guys immediately as well. Premature I love yous are a form of emotional abuse. Name calling and Verbal abuse is also not tolerated more than once, even if the words are coming from a high rolling sugar daddy giving me lots of cash…)
It’s good to know that I’m not just automatically jumping back into another pattern unaware, although I did talk to this fool for about 2 weeks…He did fuck me really good and I think that’s what I kept him around for.
He didn’t want to be called a trick or admit that we met because I was his escort once, but everything about how he wanted to interact with me was keeping himself in client status: impersonal and distant. This is why when things ended it was super easy to not miss him.
We had never kissed. The second time we fucked I made him cuddle me a little but it felt like such a stretch for him. He didn’t kiss me, he didn’t want to sleep over. Its as if he wanted to keep himself in DICK ONLY status. It was fine for me for the time being, but wouldn’t be for long since, I am not a huge fan, as I’ve mentioned of just DICK.
I told him the next time he wanted to do that he would be REQUIRED to sleep here.
HIM: Ha. We’ll see about that. He said.
I wasn’t kidding. I have strict rules about free sexers treating me like I’m an escort. Very strict rules. There is no hitting it and quitting it without paying in my “real” life. I need intimacy and affection, lots of it. If you are willing to give this in all the right ways, then I will be delivering my pussy to your door, but if not, then you find me saying rude comments about how I should be charging your ass for this.
This is not a joke, this is real. This is what I have learned in all 13 years of hustling in this game as a SEX WORKER of different occupations, stripping included.
There are women out there who will act like a prostitute for free, but not this one.
I am approaching 35 and feel so content with the knowledge I’ve gained since being that naïve girl of 19 hoping that this dude would call me, wondering why he didn’t call me, etc.
I was the “perfect” match for his ego I suppose. I hated male strippers. I always have. When I was 22 for one Christmas my sisters and their boyfriends and I went to a stripclub in San Francisco, and one of their boyfriends bought me a lapdance. God I think I was in heaven in that $20 lapdance room full of womens bodies grinding…I was a new baby stripper but also a baby dyke and this was my coming out to my family party in many ways.
I looove female strippers though, I’m allll into them. I am physically attracted to female bodies more. I love tits and hips and ass. I love everything about women’s bodies, smells, softness. I guess because when you walk up to the stage of a female stripper with a dollar she doesn’t lift you up and wrap your legs around her and start mock pounding you against the wall. You’d think I’d really be into that since I’m into the hard pounding fuck in reality. Technicalities of attraction are weird, I know. I am into sexually aggressive females though, and fighter chics do turn me on and maybe if a female stripper did that same move I might be turned on, maybe not. Female strippers don’t usually do those moves.
I’m on adultfriendfinder again looking to get laid and all these guys have profiles with their cocks. I put that I am attracted to women too, but of course, solo women are not usually on sex sites looking for pussy, unless they have boyfriends. Some guys don’t even include their face photos in their profiles or emails. I ignore those automatically. If you are the kind of guy who is going to approach me stroking your cock then you might want to try the dudes at the gay spa down the street for a reaction cuz you aint getting it from me.
I like odd physical characteristics of masculinity. I like to watch ab muscles flex but only as I’m getting fucked really hard. I like the pulsing of veins on an arm but only as a man finger bangs my pussy…I LIKE men. I just don’t like dick photos. Or looking at dick. Or talking about it really…This is what distinguishes me from most of the other straight girls. When they start talking about dick, I can’t relate. But when I start talking about how much dick I’ve actually had, these straight girls can’t relate to me, only gay guys can, and that’s why I’m friends with more gay guys than straight girls. This is also what makes me perfectly content being a queer.
Do you want to know what my dreams are made of? Singing my heart out, changing lives, breaking barriers and busting myths…..
On January 27th is the first of TWO DREAMS that I am finally realizing in the beginning of this year of the RABBIT (which technically hasn’t quite started yet but man, my luck is ON)..
I have been working on being a professional cabaret singer for about 12 years since I graduated from college (undergrad). I thought I would be famous in my twenties, well, I kind of wasn’t famous, but NOTORIOUS. I sang my heart out as the asianprincess on my rocking horse all around San francisco and in my retirement show from the stripclub, I was the first and probably last singing country western karaoke stripper with a gorilla that they ever had at the club. The high point of my career was making the entire club do a STRIPCLUB WAVE! LOL
I haven’t rivaled that type of notoriety since coming to LA to be an artist and entertainer. Part of the reason is because I got sidetracked with a Masters Degree and starting a non profit and working endless 60 hour weeks in both positions for 4 of the 6 years that I’ve lived in LA.
But now, I”m ready! SWOP-LA and teaching FULL TIME are part of my past and I am ready to step out in a big big way with a live live jazz band in historical Chinatown which was the originally location of some of the first Chinese American jazz bands in California during the 60s!
The band that I put together is for the new monthly fundraiser bringing awareness and some operational revenue to the organization that I founded in 2006 and never had enough money to really run correctly. 5 years later we are trying to start up again, with a new director and all new members and a plan to make this fundraiser a fun and hip way to draw in supporters and not break our backs doing work and creating community at the expense of our own sanity and souls.
You can buy tickets NOW ONLINE and secure your VIP seat next to Nina Hartley eating greasy Chow Fun noodles during the show!
The second of my dreams being realized is my solo full length show “Modern Day Asian Sex Slavery: the musical” which I was in the midst of planning at the beginning of 2010, everything was going great in the new year again and I was kicking ass and feeling good and then some asshole decided he would fuck with me at a massage appointment I took at my house (a rare incall appointment) which flipped my priorities into fight or flight for a year and I concentrated on training to be a Krav Maga warrior and a true whore revolutionary armed now physically as well as mentally and spiritually.
February 8th I will debut the show at Long Beach State as part of the Sex Positive Week. I am a returning artist there, so I’m glad to be back, and I’m super glad to be supported by the clubs of LBSU and paid to perform work that I’ve been dying to get out of me. I have a NEW DIRECTOR for the show who is a brilliant solo performer in her own right named Saria Idana, and she is responsible for getting me to produce my brilliant PERFORMANCE LOG sliding out of my head after being constipated for over a year ! LOL
Well, it’s like an artistic constipation…exactly. Not like having a baby, like take a big shit after wanting to for a year. I found her on accident and it fell into place because the universe determined it well. I could not be any happier.
Mounting these two project simultaneously is crazy and overwhelming, but it’s the way that I work BEST. CRAZY BUSY or depressed about not being busy enough. Some people HATE this about working with me. I know it. What can I do. Most people learn how to control me and not hate me. Like other sex workers in the commnity who are creative and brilliant, I am also CRAZZZZY too. No exception, just different levels of functionality.
Singing for me is like making art. It is a core part of my happiness and life force. Watch the video and hope you can feel it just radiate out of my soul..I’ve been singing since i was a kid, not allowed to sing in the presence of my family and not supported as a singer by them for the most part which is why this dream has always been something I’ve been even more determined to do and stick with.
the fundraiser is coming together so nicely. Planning ahead and delegating is so cool! Nice work if you can get it…
March 3rd came and went in Los Angeles and the director that took over after me has just told me that she is stepping down from running SWOP-LA. It’s not a huge shocker. The organization had been in slow decline for 4 months prior to her telling me. On March 3rd I gave it the old SWOP-LA try for a second and spent a day and a half squawking around like a chicken on fire trying to plan some awareness event in LA for this date. And just like it felt when I was the director of SWOP-LA, I was the sole person who was breaking their necks for this cause that no one seemed to give a shit about in Los Angeles. I KNOW that that isn’t true, but on a community organization scale, I often feel like I have failed to build a sex worker community in any way, even after trying very hard for 3 years straight. I feel that I, as a sex worker had been accepted into certain communities but none of the members of the other spaces would ever be seen supporting anything that was solely for the sex worker rights movement. SWOP-LA was the organization that I founded, based on the dream that I could make sex workers rights have a presence in LA. But as the last March 3rd ended my desire to pour energy into a wide expanse of apathy like throwing a roll of toilet paper into the ocean…I remembered that I left TEACHING before I left directorship of SWOP-LA. I left TEACHING so that I could be a SINGER and a PERFORMANCE ARTIST. And then I got sidetracked into running SWOP-LA for 3 years. Performing on the side. But now, finally, for the first time since before I came to LA, I am an ARTIST again. I get to pour my time and energy (AND MONEY) into developing new creative work and furthering my career as a singer and as a performance and even visual artist. And THIS is what I use my Master’s Degree for. (Even though I used it in running a non profit as well). THIS IS WHY I DO SEX WORK. (to sing). (to be an artist). I used to use a lot of my income to run SWOP-LA, or to invest in my presence at conferences and travel and such. But now that I am without credit cards for the most part nowadays, I’m broke a lot. I have to take lots of risks. I could possibly live an easier life as a high school teacher (pending background check!!) Agency work is getting tiring. I have a 18 year old “bodyguard” now. I would call him my driver, but he doesn’t drive. Even the agency is slow. They’re telling me I owe them $750. I’m not going to pay them. They can sue me. I was giving them 67% of all the show fees, but apparently I didn’t account for the fact that if the show fee is below $250 they collect 80%, and on every first show there is $10 fee collected. (which makes your percentage NOT the unfair 67% it was to begin with, but almost 80%). I have no plans to pay them. I never agreed to those terms on paper so they don’t have shit. Plus I FIGHT FOR MY SEX WORKER RIGHTS. They don’t know this. I’m going to work until that money becomes the issue that will fire me. My boss acts like I’m the only one she can call, and business has been bad that I’m on call 7 days a week it seems. She doesn’t want to lose me.
I am not running a non profit. There is nowhere in Los Angeles for sex workers to find community. LA will not become like San Francisco anytime soon. I do not have the energy or desire to endure the mission alone. This is what I’ve become instead…I watch this video and know that I am doing the right thing…It also reminds me of how much I can accomplish when I am single. I am clearly evolving as an artist. This song was written and performed by me. I have practiced with a pianist 2 hours a week since the start of 2010 and it has helped me have the confidence to totally pull off something like this with grace. I sing a lot of Blues songs lately. It suits my voice. I did this song at a soul funk open mic poetry event called Indigo Lounge. The current president of the NAACP was there and she was a minister with her other church going friends were in the house. It was entirely fitting to sing the Billie Holiday song! I’m sure they were totally overwhelmed inside! The next poem I did was about EDUCATION and the one after that was about Asian families and relationships (Ms.wong)..
I look at this video and feel like I am finally going in the right direction…defriending all negative influences and unsupportive friends and lovers along the way…ONLY LOVE..my disposable income has all gone to piano rehearsals and Krav Maga training. Both of these have been the source of inspriation and happiness for me in times when I should be broken down and blue.
To all my female survivalists
A gold digger is a go getter bitches
U need to make yourself feel better By dissing me
But don’t hate the ho
hate the pimp system that created me
This is a shout out to all my fellow mercenaries,
Girls gotta do what they need to do
by any means necessary
we need to rise up and stop depending on these dudes to get free
Start takin back our bodies
Even hos and bitches can be revolutionary
Cuz wouldn’t it be quite extraordinary
If I could finance my dreams without looking
for money to marry
But the reality
is that they want us to be
Their cheap ignorant, girls gone wild for free
while a few good ol boys get rich off of money we never see
hypocritically PIMPING our image and OUR sexuality
If there were a better way than hustlin and shakin your ass at the club til 3
Just to feed a dream and a little baby
If there were some way to keep this music dream alive
Without risking craigslist killers and answering calls til 5
Or manage to finance your college degree
Just to graduate and become an employee
And beg on the phone for your dignity
While the bank won’t cash your check
less u pay them all their overdraft fees
Obama already bailed them out but they still want to take from me??
I might be that poor frustrated bitch who walks into a bank and bombs everybody
Cuz the banks don’t give a fuck if you can’t eat!
And the politicians will smile in your face while you’re
homeless with AIDS, begging for money in the street
Health insurance death panels vote to kill you
and your unborn child just to save them money,
And I know the global imperialist system
won’t ever let us truly be free
And that’s why I don’t apologize
for bein a whore revolutionary
Says my body is MY property
And If I need your protection, boo
Then I’ll make sure that you see,
that you’re just the one driving the car for me
Taking back the reins of my sexuality
There ain’t no shame in this game
Mama taught me to never give it up for free
Smokin trees and traveling the world
Mariko passion: whore revolutionary
you don’t need a man or money to be VIP
just follow me
to the land of the whore revolutionary
You lock me up if I dare to survive and profit
some give it away for free, but i dare to make $$ off it
The system steady recycling bodies of mostly Black Jezebellas
She’s so proud to be bottom bitch, she’s her daddy cinderella
Outstanding warrant, out on bail, can’t pay the fine then take her ass to jail
and her daddy sure do love her so very much
he’ll even tell her so through the payphone in the cell
but he’ll make her do the time
and won’t even pay her bail! (well, fuck that..)
Let em borrow Never buy
always negotiate for the Bigger piece of the pie
Let em rent by the hour; but never rent to own
‘less you like being treated like a little girl even though you grown
Increase the police, they try to keep us down with their laws
to the whore revolutionaries, renegades and outlawz..
Hustling and doing illegal things just to get by
but we just keep keepin on, hustlin til dawn,
keep making our money and staying high
The nice thing was that a lot of Asian woman thanked me for performing afterwards, which was nice. No one bought any books though. My dad’s review was pretty harsh, “it was, uummm, a reading of sorts, kinda rap, kinda poetry but if at your next performance of this “Ms Wong”, try to leave out holding the notes. You were nervous…With a four star rating scale, I’d give you 2 stars.” Oh well. All I can say is,”at least I have a father that I can show my sex work art (the pieces without overt sexuality) and performances” to and I am thankful for that. The poem is about a few real people at real moments that they may have interacted with me in our lives together, or perhaps they are things that I imagined or internalized or fantasized about…I am an artist AND I am sensitive. (The latter is the excuse that my sisters give me whenever I attempt to express any legitimate hurt). if you HURT me, you become part of my intellectual process to heal what you did and therefore will probably appear in my blog, my artwork, my songs…Be warned. I will change your name but you will know it’s you when you read it.
My real sister recently lent me $500 so that I would be able to stay housed. That was a huuuuuuuge gesture for her and it meant a lot to me. I am planning to write her a birthday card, which is coming up soon and try to have a conversation which attempts to convey this appreciation. And I might even throw in the word LOVE. perhaps at the end, with a comma at the end so it doesn’t seem so direct, like “I love you.” which might repel her. My fake sister was the one who actually hurt me and my real sister lent me money. My fake sister said all kinds of fucked up things to me on my Facebook and my real sister didn’t say anything. Real sister and I had a 20 minute conversation about my sex work transition and my relationship ending and THAT was a pinnancle moment for us. My family does NOT know how to communicate emotionally. We do not tell each other “I love you.” Even before my mom knew I smoked weed, she never called unless I called her first. It was not about the marijuana, the sex work, the rapes…it was just her. The way she knows how to love. My sisters and mom are similar. I grew up with all women, but it certainly wasn’t that same “femme love” feeling that you get when you are an adult in “women only spaces.” No wonder I loved it so much when I first came out as queer. For the first time, in my first Dyke march I was ENGULFED in a SEA of WOMYN who were loving each other’s feminity, survival and love of each other without shame…
There is a lot of history that my fake sister has no idea about but chose to comment on and that was one of things that was the most offensive. She said things that were MORE condescending and disdainful than my real sister who I grew up having issues with! She channelled this voice of who my real sister was before she was married with children. Real sister has improved a lot since then, and is not quite so quick to serve up biting remarks unless she is pushed to do so. Even though she gave me money to survive, she still has a lot of clear emotional and other boundaries with me and her kids. Her kids love and adore me, and her daughter tries, to her regret to imitate me. But her daughter does not learn her mannerisms from me, as I am not even around them that much to make that kind of influence. Some personality qualities are inherent and obvious when kids are kids, like me masturbating at 5. I think smoking pot is like a cerebral masturbation. My sisters try to shame me out of masturbating, and for a while that worked until I shamefully picked the habit back up at age 9. i did the same with pot smoking. Temporary abstinence and unsuccessful “relapse.” These days, my FAVORITE pasttime is masturbating while stoned. Marijuana increases the intensity of orgasms without a doubt. Self pleasure IS survival. Medicating with marijuana is about self pleasure and self healing. I’m sure people looked at Bob Marley and said,”dude you’re a loser because you smoke too much weed.” but those people are the minority. Considering the state of political affairs in Jamaica then, and now..it is no wonder why marijuana is the choice of those oppressed by governments. Blunts are part of hip hop and Tupac smoked because he was heavily involved in a risky life that no one except those around him could really understand. Unfortunately, smoking crack, sniffing gasoline straight from the pump, alcohol and tobacco are also the choice of the oppressed, so understandably it gets hard to choose your poison. If you understand and believe that the FBI and CIA have been responsible for the “suicide”, “homicide” or “death row sentencing” of people of color AND prostitution activists (RIP Deborah Jean Palfrey, Brandy Britton) , then you can understand why someone like Tupac, a second generation Black Panther who was most definitely followed and watched by the same forces that hold Mumia in death row and the same forces that are PRESENTLY PERSECUTING 8 former BPP men from San Francisco on bogus “confessions” that were attained with torture tactics WORSE than WATERBOARDING. He unapologetically smoked blunts to his head. But he was an artist and KNEW from watching his mom on crack as a kid that anything else that he chose to smoke would compromise his art.
Adult families do not usually go into counseling and attempt to heal things that happened when they were growing up together. Those issues show up in our relationships and ourselves and sometimes we go to our own counseling. My mother spent a year in a Born Again Christian psychosis but somehow snapped out of it after being committed to a hospital for a couple of days. She refused to go to therapy afterwards and to this day. She has rejoined a different church and become active with the Lord again. I prefer making art, writing and going to low cost sliding scale therapists who allow me graciously to build a tab when times are tough. Oh, and of course, I medicate daily with marijuana. She sees me as killing myself with smoking, and I see her as killing me with her rejection. It’s all a vicious cycle…
To some people, I may be “addicted” to both “drugs” and “prostitution.” But I did a paradigm shift with my own healing about PHEW, TEN years ago I started my healing from sexual assault and childhood trauma with my first rape crisis counselor. I remember going into therapy when it was “free” as an undergraduate at Berkeley and crying my eyes out til I had a pounding headache. I remember the issues then were having head to toe eczema that I felt that I could not control. I could collect a handful of scalp pieces that I collected from scratching my oozing head sometimes. Sounds really really gross, I know. It’s was equally as horrible to me and it was my body. I believe that my eczema flare ups were a distorted way for me to find love, as my mother paid the most attention to me when I was sick with allergies or eczema. It was one of the ways I could get her to come to my bedside…I stepped onto the stripclub stage and my eczema almost disappeared completely. It’s been under control without steroid medications or frequent doctor visits for over ten years.
I believe whole heartedly in the mind/body connection. I use marijuana and other drugs to explore this because it can help to open our chakra sensitivity. (especially ecstacy) I could perhaps do it sober, with yoga, a raw vegan diet and meditation but I prefer to smoke weeeed. why? cuz it’s fun. it makes being alone interesting. I make art, write, sing and blog instead of feel lonely or bored. I hardly EVER say the sentence,”I’m bored.” and if that is the case, then I just go to sleep. I guess I can escape to sleep when I am really depressed before I complain about being bored.
I spent A LOT of time alone as a kid. Playing with myself (literally! I started masturbating at 5) , riding my bike around town alone. And before my last relationship I was single for NINE YEARS. (think about that in terms of living in a culture which heavily emphasizes monogamous pair bonding). For me to cope with that reality, I was happy to have discovered mary jane. My real medicating started after a significant relationship ended when I was about 22. Sucking on my bong while crying like a baby like it was a mother’s nipple. It helps you stop being frantic and relaxes you..just like the nipple did. I bet my mom stopped breast feeding me at 6 months. I would be very surprised if I found out that she did it for longer.
the women i date are always unattainable, like the love, the comfort from my mother is…they are always not interested, more attached to boyfriends, more fucked up with issues than me…
the men and women that are attracted to me are co-dependents. Boys that need mommies. Ironically I play that role to them even though I never really had a nurturing relationship with my own mom. Women are always said that they look for their fathers through men. perhaps that is why I always date these “Fix er uppers” that never really change, but that I have to sever ties to before they destroy me.
I smoke about an 1/8th a week, which with a medical card in medical marijuana SATURATED Los Angeles is down to $35. $140/month if I paid cash for my medicine without hustling and trading which I don’t. The amount can but probably will not increase over time, which is why they don’t see it as an addiction. Smoking more marijuana only will make you fall asleep, not get more medicated. If sleep is the goal, then it’s perfect.
When I was 21, I felt like dying because the physical and emotional pain from my skin condition was so unbearable to me. I could not imagine a life without eczema. When I was 23, coming to terms with all the times I survived sexual violence already, I could not imagine a life free of rape trauma. I had anxiety attacks in overtly heterosexual environments (like “straight” bars, or cramped elevators with only 1 man). But I healed and now, I am not well but I am better. I am able to recognize PTSD related anxiety, the signs of disassociation that occurs and THEN I meditate myself out of survival mode, if indeed it is not a real emergency. But, as Erykah Badu said it best,” this world is soo traumatic.”
I am exploring this book called “Seeking Safety” which is for those with “drug addiction and PTSD” which in clincial talk is a “co-occuring disorder.” I want to read it as soon as I get enough extra money to buy it online and see if I can adapt the information to medical marijuana patients. I have fought against a lot of medical pathologizing and am skeptical about it since “homosexuality” was a DSM-IV listed pathology until the 70s and “gender identity disorder” is a necessary part of a transgenders transition therapy. “Prostitution” is seen as a risk behavior not work and “Survival Sex” is only relegated to those who are homeless, not those who eat dim sum. So I read and take in what I like and adapt it to my own healing. Healing and retraumatization are a constant process and hopefully you get better at expediting it. Considering all of the trauma that I have survived, i have become the master at expediting my own healing because of my own self awareness of it. I got mugged once as a sex worker two years ago and I allowed myself to lay in bed all week.
Facebook is a crazy new internet medium that I have found some comfort and obvious discomfort in. I can’t stop being me. I will die being me. What’s on my mind will offend A LOT of people. One of my cousins is surely getting a new exposure to all kinds of things about me by being my ‘friend.” But he, like my father, is also a father and is also pretty non judgemental and supportive of me as a person, interested in getting to know me and certainly not interested in making me feel bad because I smoked weed or do sex work.
If you read this and are interested in the real ride outside the blog, the daily updates that are far more personal than what I tweet then add me: Mariko Pasion
I had to spell it with one S to appease Facebook for some reason. I don’t know why. It is more intimate than myspace by far. Even more intimate and revealing than this blog. I need to feel some sort of safety with the people there. If you get on my wall trying to judge me or change me you won’t be successful. I’ll block and delete you because I do not like to be hurt, even by my “friends”, family or community. And if you are really impactful I’ll write a song about you…but hopefully you will be impactful in a positive way instead.