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Sex, Drugs & Rock & Roll
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Sex, Drugs & Rock & Roll SEX SITE My Sexuality has always been a part of me. Not necessarily Sex though. That seems to come and go, ebb and flow. So it should I suppose in what you ultimately want for you. Sex is not a winner take all sort of situation, though some may think so. I've found in the last 2.5 years that I have learned more than I thought I would ever want to know about my sexual preferences, but that’s just me. I evaluated a sex-site or chat room more specifically because I wanted to see what might be on offer for any potential grandchildren that might become as a result of me. What I found was same confusion and ineptness related to any amount of intelligent, vibrant people trying to get to where they might be going. It bothered me. I thought, what a waste of bloody time. All this advanced technology taking us, as people to higher ground, only to leave us floundering around wondering what to make of it all personally. Fabulous, beautiful, sexy women standing around in Parlours and parading up and down walkways while Men and Women considered their bodies and them as people or some mental apparition. Saying hello to Ladies of the night! … God! I would love to dress high class like some of them do, let alone have their attractive figures. On one occasion, I witnessed first hand a young girl, (my 19 yr old in my mind) step crying from a taxi. Her bitch mama (my words) stepping authoratively from the front passenger seat. I thought, wow this is shit unfolding in front of me. It was something like 7pm whatever. Early for that type of activity, surely? I crossed paths with the young girl and saw tears slowly falling from her eyes. Looking directly at her¸. I whispered. You Ok. She, just looked beyond me. Not drugged, but knowledgeable, I'd say. Perhaps knowing that to move her mouth (she had the better view of the other woman) that a further punishment would behold her, maybe, protecting me. We all headed in the same general direction, into a superette. Across from a Gang headquarters drinking pub so I was told. My friend knew the owner and we said our hellos. The Bitch Mama just flat out asked for money from the shop owners till. I stood removed from it, spellbound. I thought, shit I'm in the Sopranos here. I was honestly astounded! I thought I'm witnessing extortion!! Here in New Zealand. The most honest and wonderful country I should believe in. The Bitch Mama slapped money in the hands and said scathingly "Go and pay the taxi"< "and get out there and earn $70". She went lonely and forlorn to do the other Woman's bidding. I noticed a fierce determination on my male friends face. I exchanged a couple of pleasantries with this Bitch Mama, in fact lifting her loose top (without thinking really, it was something I had noticed) that had fallen a bit further as to show a bit of her bra. She didn't flinch, or slap me away, but countered my endeavour as much to say, this is me … wear it. I said hello to another older lady that came in, rightly or wrongly I made my summisation that she was a street worker too. They left together. My male friend was seething! I don't know if he was trying to invoke me in some way. To see what depth my emotional heartfelt response too it might be. I just looked at him and said directly to his eyes and face. It wasn't our place. Truth be told. Instinct told me that. That moment before you action feeling. I did explore however the money coming out the till as to seek positive clarification of what I'd just seen. It appeared to be an accepted lifestyle choice. Married to it by the complexity of their circumstances and site situation. So sad too me. They were/are humble people, raising a young family as they know how and left to get on with it. Who would interfere? They're not complaining. My results are evidenced below along with a very personal summisation that whilst you can participate any amount of gregarious behaviour, your heart and soul seeks compatibility with just one partner that can, hopefully, offer you everything. You know, to find your sexual equal as well as a life partner. I listen to any amount of fabulous life stories and see love in couples into old age. So know the possibility to be true. drugS What can I say! Dabbled with them as a . In the form of diet pills, way back when. Duromine was a favourite, buzz all-night and couldn't sleep. Then so wired and tired at work, but still got through what was required of me and even managed to lose some weight In various forms of starvation diet. Mind you, I remember one particular incident that could have resulted in a worse situation. I presume, I had eventually overdosed on them. I was flatting, had developed the shakes and taken myself off to bed, ringing into work, sick for the day. I didn't improve at all that day. In fact, the shakes got worse, included palpitations that frightened me. I resolved to ring my Mum (bearing in mind, my Mum was caring for my wee girl while I went and got my "shit together"). "Can I come home please"., "I am feeling really ill"! I recall being sick like this a good 2-3 days. Waking off and on with hot and cold tremors, feeling worse than any horrid Asthma attack had left me. My Mother would've let me 'rot in hell' had she known. I smoked Marijuana in my 20's. But the repercussions would have been too great for me. Being raised to know that<b> illicit </font></b>meant illegal therefore penalties and problems would ensue. So it was with trepidation that I included drugs as something to find out about when I ventured into A sex site at the age of 50 as well. God! I have been offered so much. I boarded with an x-cop. He knew I "puffed socially", even shared the occasional joint with 'dope smoking' 19yrs that moved in as further flat mates. He condoned 'a smoke outside' … and turned a blind eye. I presume he had his reasons and considered it 'infinitesimal in the bigger scheme of things. One particular event shook me to the core. I'll never forget it as long as I live and I share it here. (The release inside me as I write this is from my stomach and back … its like coming up and outside me). I give thought to how I want to convey it actually. I'd been out on my own … "doing my thing" … this personal need in me to find out what was going on in town. In respect to observing people young and not so young participating in this new late night, early morning social scene! Predictably, I drove drunk, stoned and conducted myself well whilst out. On the motorway journey home, I got to thinking about my . I hadn't heard from him! He'd been over to Aussie to represent his School in a representative Rugby Tournament. It was a proud time and a big deal, for our now split up family (Dad & … staying together). I'd left messages "Ring ya Mum, I want to hear how it all went". No contact. This started playing on my mind! By the time I got in the door and through the combined use of drugs and Alcohol, perhaps tiredness, the manifestation in my mind grew to thinking that my had done some self-harm and his Dad was going to come home and find him there and it would've been my fault. It was my , you see that had discovered my clandestine activities toward Men on an Internet site. (I hasten to add here, the Internet was just a mechanism. The marriage had stopped anyway … neither of us were investing in it holistically). My belief became so real to me. I phoned 111 I think and asked to be picked up as to go around and see My … as to be there, when my x-hubby arrived home. I was asked for 's address, I didn't have it. I only had a phone number and I gave it. The question was repeated. I said "I have given you the information, I have". "You are the Police, come and get me, I've been drinking and take me too see him". "I want to be there". I was dieing inside … the feeling was horrendous and so real to me. I was rocking, and crying uncontrollably, wailing like a Wahine (my terminology and no disrespect intended). My x-cop landlord and his girlfriend would've been deaf, not to have been awakened by me. (Aside: Neither came to stop me nor support me. Entertainment value harks clearly in mind to this day, on Landlord's part only. I'd imagine his lovely girlfriend would've asked to come., being a Woman and sharing a compassion towards me. Being held back by my landlord). That, being said, the Police Officer (a Woman on the end of the phone) was going about her expected duties and her frustration in trying to get information from me grew. My voice got louder, controlled and more directed towards her as in, she was blocking me from getting to my . I must've sworn at her because she said, "If you continue to speak to me like that, I'll hang up on you". I said something along the lines of "You hang up on me (bitch … maybe) and I'll just ring back and speak to somebody else. This was real to me and no-way was I fooling. The result being, I had been kept on the phone. 's address had been located and they had sent a car around. I was advised by her on the phone that he was safe. Nothing more was done. Barr for a minor discussion when x-landlord and I caught up along with a brief "what the hell did ya call the cops for from my x-hubby". I explained in part, that I'd had too much to drink and thought something horrible had happened to my . I sat with this for a time. I don't recall how long. I just couldn't leave how it had made me feel as a Mother you see! I thought how many Mothers get as lucky as me to be told their / is safe. Normally, Police arrive at a door to tell a Mother/Father that their has met with harm or death. My instincts as a Mother came to the fore. I envisaged the countless Mothers that would've wept and rocked like I did. Picking themselves up to carry on because you're "allowed to mourn" outwardly for so long. Life goes on type of thing. But the feeling of loss remains with you. It's an emptiness in the womb. Perhaps, that’s further explanation of the release I feel in saying. I thought, I can use this as to explain in real terms to young people along with Mothers who have experienced real loss. What it feels like as a Mother. Such was my conviction to this thinking, I went in search of my . I asked to know, was he in attendance at school. I had become doubtful as to his attendance. His association with his Dad was more distanced than his association with me. I had always let my know, if I wanted to know I would ask and expected an answer. Mind ya business was fine by me as dependent on my need to know I would just put my foot down. That's how my Mother had raised me. Copied behaviour. My was in attendance, albeit arriving after roll call. I asked could I please speak to him and could I please speak with the Principal or Vice Principal briefly before doing so. The Vice Principal gave me her time and I asked could I please have 10-15 minutes of her time after having spoken to my , she agreed. I wanted my 's permission to speak with the Vice Principal about what I had done. Yes, too expose myself, us if necessary in respect to identifying with young people what can and does happen to a family when this type of eventuality befalls them. My was crushed. No-way! "Mum, you can't, you can't". I spoke to him as a young Adult. I wanted him to comprehend the realisation I had as a Mother 'thinking that he had actually died, being taken from me'. He saw that in every word I spoke, every tear that fell from my eyes. I told him that I want to speak to the Vice-Principal then I want to go to the Police, I have a business card given to me by my x-landlord. He reluctantly agreed that I could do this. I admire him to this day for allowing me to do that. He's a brave, brilliant person and I love him dearly. I told the Vice-Principal as I am telling you here now. I said, please use it in someway as you see fit if you see any reason to it. I told her I am now going to the Police. I had arranged an appointment to see the particular Police Officer and I found it more difficult to speak to him. He was seeking fact, pen at the ready or sitting back objectively waiting for the point of it all. He did note the mention of the Police phone call (taped, archived somewhere) and the fact I had gone to the Vice-Principal (Name). It was strained and I actually left ahead of him, turned and said I think I've wasted our time but I'll shake your hand and hope some good comes of it. Nothing did. In fact approximately 2 weeks later I got a call from Victim Support within our region. I expressed to my x-landlord. I'm not the victim, I'm the perpetrator, how ridiculous! If I was/am Bi-Polar, delusional or suffer mental health. Why oh why wasn't I taken into care then? (I question that … because at the time of putting this too paper this is what I have now been diagnosed as having). Depends, where you are and whose on the scene. I associated with a really good mate, who'd I'd met off the Local Adult Companion site, that was into his own 'weird science of life'. This friendship resulted in being offered 'party pills' to partake in. I found these to be a great buzz! We'd sit up all night, sometimes discussing all manner of things (convo's I've taped actually), I don't know what was going on in this guy's mind, nor for that matter mine at times. Think what you like reading that. But I expressed as best as able to a psychologist I was seeing because I had the money. (I wanted to find out about me … (to say here would be to digress from the drug thing too much). I was proffered them to go and sell at the pubs. I tried! I was useless at it. Actually being cajoled by the very people that I thought would whack them back. I'm so pleased for that! Returned them to source and said … "Oh, goodie! It is so not me". Mind you, on another 'party occasion' I was asked to bring some down with me, which I did. The eventuality there needs to be documented, because as far as I'm considered, although the physical outcome involved me directly. It was not of my making, but perhaps why the physical event occurred, did. I'd hazard a guess, that the young woman 'went there' as a result the 'party pills' I had passed on as to be 'passed onto her'. I was provided with 2 sorts of powdered form of drug once, to take home to see what (my x-cop landlords summisation were). His explanation to me was, "Don't do anything, you're mad and stupid, if you think the Cops would be interested in your story". "They've got enough to do". I was surprised and aghast by his reply I thought fuck, I was bought up to believe that you went to the Police about anything if you required a legal response to it. Whilst I had encounters involving Marijuana when I was younger, mainly being paranoia because I was uncomfortable taking the drug anyway. This time around, except for a couple of instances, that I've documented, whilst I knew I was acting "out there". I felt inwardly compelled to do so. Such was my rightfulness to my thinking at those times. I didn't really experience anything untoward, in fact the opposite. Heaps of laughs and deep meaningful conversations that meant something at the time. In the last 2 and 1/2 years though, I experienced different things. God! The accessibility for one thing. Nearly every second person I chose to have an association with was a Marijuana smoker or had been. Professional People had bought homes from the sale of it, others had with problems on it, themselves passing up on productive employment in pursuit of it. No doubt many of these people attested to trying harder drugs too. Which eventually led me to the door of this lovely lady who was courageously campaigning against "P". I was enthralled by this Woman the level of her personal conviction. She confided in me, that her initial desire to help backfired on her big-time and she found that not only had she been lied to and let down personally, public money willingly and honestly given in support of something big for NZ had been stolen. Bloody horrible consideration to hear. I thought, righto! I'm in this. Where will it take me.. So I end up writing up more down here then. I met a man in the street one evening, absolutely blown away by how handsome he was. I was with another friend, a x-dresser. We were going home (back to motel) to get it on. But, I said to my friend, I can't let this guy go. We all tried to get back into the motel, but they had their rules and we'd been caught entering. I left with the guy in my car, talking on the journey to his place. I heard that he worked for a construction site, that his x-partner had been obsessive about him! (Presumably, never satisfied that he was being faithful). I've heard that several times. Heard also, he'd lost $800 at the Casino and that he was a 'P' smoker! I couldn't believe it! We got back to his place, he actually showed me his bong as though I'd asked for further clarification. I just "went superior on him" … "as though he was my ". I said I want you to stop now! This beautiful, essential Man was slowing destroying himself. It seemed to me other peoples behaviour towards him was or had pushed him down in some way. We had sex and I left. I assured him, I wasn't a stalker! Heaven forbid! I drove my friend and another guy to an address in Manukau The reason was unknown to me. I was just following through on my growing awareness that in this Man's company I was either in some game or in fact going to be exposed to something along the lines I wanted too see. We eventuated into the company of a Man he had met, spur of the moment. Party Pills were discussed and swallowed by this bloke. We all piled into my car and went to this other house, directed by the 'new guy'. It was flash as, inside was a lovely man, heaps of young teenagers. I got the immediate impression, that whilst these were well dressed etc and in this Man's company something untoward was apparent. It didn't take long for a situation to unfold. I sat chatting with the teenage boys. Just gorgeous, young guys. Foresaw the past already mapped on their lives. The Owner of the home snorted white powder up his nose in front me, in front of the . Think it was ice. Didn't take long for the effect to hit his head. Saw his eyes glass over and whilst we were talking, he reached out and snatched out at a fly, catching it, putting it in his mouth. I didn't speak on the activity. I considered he thought it was impressive. Irrespective, he went on to speak about his niece taking "P" and how it would be good to get her off that shit. ROCK N' ROLL The terminology is the same as life too me. I was a youngster in the days of Black & White TV. One channel and varying degrees of closing times as filmed content was negotiated for, filmed and screened. Black and White Minstrels, Lassie, nature programmes, blah, blah. Ed Sullivan show was perhaps the new casting couch for Rock n' Roll on TV. I don't profess to know actually. I do remember enjoying immensely our home grown shows, Happen In, Lets Go along with others I have since forgotten the names of. I didn't realise until my last 2.5yrs the enjoyment I experienced as a person in listening to the music for the sake of hearing it as advice to me. You choose the lyrics and or the music because it rests with you in some way. I used to watch my Dad and his Classical choice. It was though he was in another world listening too it. I imagine other people have there reasons too. Its awesome to my way of thinking that synonymous with language next came some type of instrument to expound it on. Trying to find words for this one is a little difficult. But the Rock n Roll I have experienced in my life is how I've lived it more. Up and down or round about in connection to the verbal or intended expectations of me. I never really understood until the age of 50 where upon I came to the realisation that how could I expect other people to understand me if I didn't understand myself. So I went in search of that by attending the psychologists couch as mentioned at my beginning (What). I've experienced more Rock n Roll in the last 2.5yrs than I've done the previous 50yrs, in the most part because I cast myself out in my own boat alone setting aside longtime associations with people, not to exclude them totally but to just allow myself to find me. Still keeping in touch with my immediate family, but as time progressed even their opinions of me changed. Becoming upset or concerned in some way that I was no longer behaving the way they expected. I cared deeply, but at 52 I'm reasoned that they are safe and walking towards what they are wanting for themselves. My Mum being surrounded by loving, longtime friends, my , happy and successful with the man she loves and my whilst struggling with teenage angst knew he was supported and loved, further being nudged and acknowledged towards his right way. The other aspect of Rock n Roll for me involves the society I have grown up in. New Zealand. I still find it hard to comprehend for all the advancement we have made (as to be included) in a technological age. That people struggle to keep pace as equals towards it. I recall my school days of learning about the feudal system and the varying attempts at democracies. There is always a King, Queen, President or Government then other lesser conventions, aligning to that supremacy. There to convene for us. Yet at the bottom of the scale are the most people expecting some level of support for their solidarity. It does happen, but unfortunately not to enough of them. So a blame society becomes born. I've experienced this first hand. The helplessness of requiring a Govt support system or just to be listened too without being ostracized or labeled. But that has not been forthcoming, in fact. just through being judged "in wrong company" My support systems have worked against me. 1. Employment 2. Work and Income 3. Mental Health 4. Resources (e.g. Power Company) 5. *Associations with other People Apt to be here at last. Why, is just further personal testament as to what has happened to me, significantly in the last year. |
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again another fascinating post my friend
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are you going to put up some new blog, I would like to read about you more
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Thank You for your comment. Yes. I will be blogging again. I feel compelled to share my experiences of having sex as to convey that ultimately I have discovered that I would sooner go without sex than be continually subjected to having sex with strangers. The sex seems a bit like having drugs. You inject yourself with a foreign substance, but the reward whilst gratifying is short-term and short-lived. I would imagine that two people that truly love each other would derive an undulating and enduring sexual relationship. Because they are committed to pleasing each other. I know that my opinions are just that ... "My opinions". But as a 55yr old New Zealand Woman, I consider that I can offer them to Women (and Men) that are interested in the concept that based on what you think about your right to sexual freedom will help determine a foundation for what young people might choose to believe in as fun and supplication to their own sexual curiousity. I'm sorry if If I haven't chosen the right words. Because I sincerely hope you understand where I'm coming from. Meltingmomentos ... chatter in the NEW ZEALAND ROOM. Say hi too me. Debate with me, your opinions. So we can "EVOLVE" a consensus understanding to what provisions a modern society should provide so that peoples needs are met.
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