Wednesday, August 1, 2018

9 Lives:

I feel like I've lived the lives of many in my 30 something years.

I was born in China, I have childhood friends where we may not talk when we are apart but when we get together it's like no time has passed and we are kids again.

I've seen the Great Wall, Terra Cotta Warriors, the Palaces of the old emperors, Tian Men Square, and been to countless cities in China.

We had no running hot water in our apt, and my grandparents taught me how to be frugal.

I lived in Toronto, became a Canadian citizen when I was 7. It was there I started to take French and piano lessons.

The piano lessons went on for 8yrs.

My mom took me to Disney World in FL when I was 8 or 9.

I spent some time living in Kansas.

We later moved to California.

Did a foreign exchange program in high school. Spent a week in a little town on the border of France and Switzerland, called Ferney-Voltaire.

I got to spend my 16th birthday in Paris. Saw Monet's home in Giverny, the Mona Lisa at the Louvre, Eiffel Tour, the other Statue of Liberty. Had my first drink at a TGIFridays on my 16th birthday in Paris: it was a "Sex on the Beach". Walked through the red light district and got to see the Moulin Rouge briefly.

My family once stopped in S. Korea because my mom wanted to try Korea's Korean food. Got to see a mesmerizing aquarium.

Went to college in a beautiful beach city and fell in and out of love with my college sweetheart. It was that relationship that broke me. It's not that I swore not to love, I just didn't believe in it anymore.

I got to see Paul McCartney play in Liverpool, he messed up during "Blackbird" and says "Oop That proves to you it's live". I later saw him play in Chicago, NYC, and New Jersey.

Saw my favorite Turner at the National Gallery in London, completely accidental but the best surprise at an art museum to date. Had fish and chips because that's a must in England.

I've been on a camel in Dubai, got to go sand dune bashing and eat lavish food. Saw all the aquariums in Dubai.

I've been to the red light district in Amsterdam, saw Van Gogh's museum, smoked flowers in coffee shops while sipping on coffee. Visited the Heineken Brewery and the Anne Frank house.

Experienced loss unlike any other when my grandpa passed, he was my favorite person and probably the only person who loved me unconditionally.

Drove 152mph on my 26th birthday on my way to SF. Took myself to a Giants game, ate sandwiches at the wharf, bought myself a Tiffany's ring and got to see a Patrick Hughes in person.

Got to live in my favorite city in the world. I love all the art museums, the park, to watch the sun rise and set all over the city.

I got to see all 3 of VanGogh's bedrooms in one place, which was unbelievable to me because I've seen them all separately in 3 different countries.

I've visited countless cities in the US due to my job as a camgirl. Met the most interesting people.

I accidentally fell in love again. I didn't want to, because my relationship in college changed me. I was afraid of how a person can affect me and turn me into someone I didn't like. So, I did everything in my power to show my new love the most unattractive sides of me, but I couldn't push him away.

To me, it was proof that the heart is stronger than I ever gave it credit for, because not only can it be dead for a decade but it can also heal.

But he's so broken, he deserves someone that's not damaged like me to show him that love doesn't have to hurt, nor be consuming.

I look back on my life, and I'm proud of all of my experiences.

But as I look around at my life currently, I'm lonely and I feel empty.

I've been so lucky.

But I just don't see the point in any of it.

People tell me to look forward and I'm trying.

I try to think about things I would like to do in the future.

I always wanted my hair really short, sides shaved like a faux hawk type and be able to style it differently every day. After my two failed attempts of sleep syrup and a trash bag taped around my head, how sweaty my head got with all the hair, not liking my hair being pulled, I decided to cut off all my hair.

I felt like it was a bucket list thing: short hair.

So then I started to think about my actual bucket list (in hopes of finding something to live for).

I've always wanted to see the Northern lights because I love colors.

I still want to get an RV, visit all the 48 states, monuments, and maybe Canada. Since I am Canadian and all.

I've had two people propose to me with rings but neither felt right. I guess there's still a part of me that wants one where there's not a doubt in my head that it's coming from the right man.

I want to be a throuple like the creators of Wonder Woman.

I wonder what it's like to be a mother. My most recent desire and attempts to kill myself made me question that desire. I can never if I am so mentally unstable.

I cannot imagine myself as a old person, nor even being a grandma. But the question is, can anyone?

I don't really feel like my list is motivation enough to keep my going because I just feel so alone.

I try and surround myself with people at work, but it leaves me feeling so painfully empty on the inside.

I think about how a few minutes of physical pain might be able to permanently terminate this ongoing emotional pain I feel.

As I contemplate a sure method, I have not made any attempts since the failed bag attempts. I think part of me feels lame for failing so many times.

I've had some people reach out to me but part of me thinks, "It's easy for you to say because you have things to live for."

I'm just not sure what I have to live for, but I'm trying to find it, while not seeing the point in searching.

It's August today, I owe over 3k in rent.

A month from now, 9/01 it will be the anniversary of my grandpa's death, followed by his birthday.

Thanksgiving is coming up shortly after. It's my favorite day of the year, because it's all about being with family, so I promised my mom we would always spend Thanksgiving together. Last year, she broke the pack and I spent Thanksgiving with a girl I didn't really know to avoid spending it alone.

This year, I don't want to make it to Thanksgiving, let alone another snow fall.

I honestly cannot bare the thought of spending it by myself.

At this point, I don't know how to get better, nor do I have the will to do so.

So meanwhile I'm just going about day to day life, putting on a smile for others, hoping that I'll either be successful with an attempt or find an anchor or anchors to hold me to physical plane.

Tuesday, July 10, 2018


I wrote this entry nearly a week ago but my internet was out and I never ended up posting it...

This isn't just some depressive episode, nor some emotional response.

I have been wondering what motivates people to keep going and survive for over a year now.

It started with the financial troubles, I've been struggling to make rent for years now, unable to save enough to move.

My "friends" just take take take or use me to make money. Not sure why I keep letting people into my life, especially after JK.

I remember my mom calling me last Feb '17 or so and asked me to go home and retrieve my things from her house because she was moving.

I remember crying to her on the phone because I was behind on rent and I couldn't afford to take time off of work to make the trip.

She told me, "Do what you need to survive, it's what I always did."

I went back to visit her last March '17, got rid of 3/4ths of my stuff, sold my car and shipped 14 boxes to my apt in NYC.

During my trip, my mom threatened to kill herself. Well, I once made a promise I would never do that to her after her best friend's daughter committed suicide.

I told my uncle to keep an eye on her considering they live in the same city.

Not even sure how we made up after that trip.

She asked me to visit her again in October '17 because she wanted to break my Thanksgiving pact and go on a trip instead of spending my favorite day together.

This trip she told me that we're done.

My uncle was the icing on the cake, my mom's needs were more important than mine.

It was hard enough trying to keep up with rent when I had family but not having them in my life, made everything seem infinitely harder.

Then I was hell bent to create my own wolf pack, surround myself with people who I care about, and vice versa.

It shocked me just how little everyone cared.

It's been over a week since I made attempts to take my own life.

I've deleted my social media pages, my phone's been off for about a week, my home internet has been cut for a few days now.

I've done more research since then, thought about this, fantasized about it for a very long time.

I joked about a game of Russian Roulette on cam, to be honest, I always wanted to do this via live stream so that people can see just how much damage they can do to a person.

I researched about cyanide. Then I remembered how awful it was to wake up after getting my stomach pumped in college. I really don't want to survive another attempt.

It wasn't just one person, or one thing, it was everyone and everything.

When it was just financial, the promise I made my mom kept me going.

When she threatened to kill herself, I voided that promise I made to her because if I am not enough for her to keep living, why do I owe her the same courtesy?

I tried to focus on people I care about but it seems my feelings towards others never quite match my own.

I'm sleep deprived, took some sleep syrup, got my bag and tape, just waiting to be extremely tired so that I can just fall asleep quickly.

If I wake up from this, I'm going to be really upset.


After this post I tried to sleep with a bag taped around my head. But I woke up. I tried again the following night.

Again, I woke up.

It might be some type of reflex to ripe the bag off one's head due to oxygen deprivation.

All the failed attempts in the last 2 weeks, I've come to the conclusion that the instinct to survive is innate. So I've given up on making attempts to take my own life until I find a better method.

People tell me to get help, see a psychiatrist, but help doesn't change anything.

Talking to someone isn't going to change the fact that no one cares, nor change my financial situation.

Doesn't matter who I care about, the truth is, no one cares about whether or not I live or die.

I don't have anyone on this planet that loves me.

That's really all I want, is for someone to love me.

But I look around me, the mess I'm in both literally and physically and I just know it's not possible because there's nothing to love.

I'm pretty sure the only way to successfully do this is to purchase a gun. Might have to cross some state lines but at least I know it will get the job done.

I never thought I'd ever be in this place again. I've never been here for so long, and made so many attempts. Usually after an attempt, a day, two, I eventually see how irrational my head was, but this time is different. Day after day I keep thinking about it, I try time after time.

I keep praying for death. I see a car and just think please run me over. Please kill me.

I never asked to be born. I never asked for the things my mom thinks she sacrificed to give me. I'm so tired of feeling like I owe her something.

I'm so tired of trying to survive.

So tired of knowing no one cares.

Thursday, July 5, 2018


Still alive but not for lack of trying.

For the longest time, I couldn't see the point to life.

Call it an existential crisis but I've been in a financial shit hole for a few years now, hence why I had to find other sources of income.

I was trying to save up so I can move out of my apt and into an RV but I can't even cover my rent right now so the RV dream seems so much further away.

My family abandoned me for the second time in my life and I promised myself it's the last.

The people around me, my hopes that I could turn my financial situation around, kept me going for some time.

For me, there's a big difference between not wanting to live, wanting to die, praying, fantasizing about death and actually attempting to end one's life.

I crossed all the lines.

I tried to cut but I don't have the pain tolerance nor courage to go deep enough. I realized I needed a razor not a knife.

I tried to take sleep syrup and hoped to fall asleep in my tub and slip into the water.

I woke up and realized my bathtub is not deep enough.

I fantasized about trying again with sleep syrup and a bag taped around my neck.

I acquired topical anesthesia in case I wanted to try slitting my wrist again with a sharper tool.

I think about jumping off my roof but I fear it won't finish the job and I'd just wake up in the hospital.

I wonder where I can purchase a gun or if I should just visit a shooting range in another state and do it nice and quick.

I cross the street, see a car coming and I pray that it runs me over and that's the end.

It's pathetic I can't even manage to kill myself.

It's not just one thing. It's everything that's wrong in my life.

I'm 3k behind on my rent, my family doesn't want anything to do with me, guys online don't care, I have no one.

I'm just so done. I've quit trying to survive for a while, but now not only do I welcome Death, I'm trying to get to her myself.

I'm so tired of praying and hoping for little things in my life to start getting better.

Tired of trying without a shred of success.

Tired of feeling like no one loves me.

Please give me the courage to end it once and for all.

Friday, June 29, 2018


I grew up with a lot of physical and psychological abuse.

It quite literally makes me want to turn around and inflict the same pain back onto the world.

I keep that dark side of myself under tight lock and key.

It slips out when I drink.

I hate pain. I hate people who try to manipulate me psychologically.

I am not a masochist in the least bit, but sometimes I tolerate it because I'm used to enduring pain.

In my experience, letting it happen and pass is easier than retaliation.

I hate myself for not speaking up.

I hate myself for being afraid to speak up.

I hate myself for taking it as if I am getting what I deserve.

Deep down, I just want to be held and loved, but I just don't feel like anyone cares about what I want or need.

I feel so much rage and anger.

It's like my blood is boiling underneath my skin and I fantasize about inflicting the pain I feel onto others.

I've put myself on lockdown until this anger subsides.

I'm so mad at myself for being so docile, I want to hit something.

I've been playing Injustice2 so I can direct my aggression at a game instead of people.

This is one of many reasons I am afraid to have kids because my mom and grandma used to take everything out on me.

I'm starting to see it was never about me, I wish I could tell my inner child that.

I wish I could go back and tell myself abuse is not love.

But all I can really do, is be better.

Break the cycle.

Friday, June 22, 2018


Today's one of those days I'm trapped in the Hell of my own mind.

I can't stop thinking and fixating on my abusive family.

I guess I'm starting with psychological abuse.

Preference for boys vs girls: 

My grandma used to tell me about her miscarriage (a son) before being pregnant with my mom.

She also took the liberty to tell me about my mom's abortion (also a son) before being pregnant with me.

My grandma also enjoyed creating hypotheticals for me because if she never had the miscarriage, the timing, she could not have ever been pregnant with my mom.

She questioned what if my mom never got her abortion, again timing, my mom could not have ever been pregnant with me.

In China there's a preference over males because men carry down the family name. Sons are expected to take care of their parents when they get old. Daughters are expected to be married off and go and take care of her husbands parents.

When I was 16yrs old applying for college I even recall my mom saying, "If you were a boy, I would get 3 jobs to put you through an Ivy League education, but you are just a girl". Hence I was not allowed to apply to an Ivy League school because it wasn't we couldn't afford it, my mom just didn't see the point.

The gender preference was a type of psychological abuse.

Slut Shaming and Misandry: 

My grandma used to slut shame me. I left China when I was 7yrs old.

Even before I left for China, I remember her saying shit like keep your legs closed. Guys only want one thing. She used to tell me to focus on my career, that boys will always be there.

I returned to China 2 years after I left. I was 9yrs old and I wore a pair of fake clip on earrings because I wanted my grandma to be like "Wow look how mature or older you look".

First thing out of her mouth, "You look like a slut/whore." (in Chinese). Again I was 9yrs old, and that was not the response I expected.

I remember being 11yrs old, my mom just met my (now ex) step dad. My grandma would ask me disgusting questions if he touched me, or if I had older boy neighbors that would touch me when I was home alone after school.

I don't know what happened to my grandma. My grandpa was the most caring and thoughtful man but my grandma was sick, vile, vulgar and her mouth was just repulsive.

My mom once said if she let my dad have custody and raise me, I would be a slut. Yes when she used the "expression" it was in English.

My mom used to tell me to marry for money, and in my head I would protest because I wanted to marry for love.

I was always such a hopeless romantic and I imagined myself being happy living in a box on the street if I had my soulmate by my side.

Till this day, I can't stand guys who throw money around as if it would impress me because I know money doesn't buy love nor happiness.

I'm happy with "poor, poor and perfect" and when Buttercup says it, sometimes I just burst into tears because I understand.

When I was 14-15yrs old, my mom told me that every guy she's ever dated or married has either cheated on her or she was the other woman. Then she proceeded to tell me that, "All men cheat, if they don't do it, they think about it."

Abandonment and feeling un-wanted: 

My mom left me in China when I was 7yrs old for Canada. Her parents and my dad had joint custody, 1 month here, 1 month there.

When Mother's day came around and kids would sing a song that roughly translates to "On this planet/Earth only mom/mother is the best/good". I used to think to myself, "I wouldn't know".

When I was about 4 or 5yrs old, my dad tried to pick me up from my grandparents house one night, drunk, and I didn't want to go. According to the story, he tried to hit me and my grandma blocked it. He was asked to leave and the next day he brought over all my stuff and "severed" our ties. I've seen him once since that day.

I remember a time where my mom was hanging out with my (ex) step-dad and she says to me, "Don't you have homework to do?". I felt like I was in the way of her dating. It was that thought, that first made me want to commit suicide. I'm not sure if I would have remembered it if I did not find the note (found last March, 2017) I wrote dated 1998. I was a child and my mom made me feel like I kept her from living her life and being happy.

Pity, sense of responsibility, duty: 

My grandma used to tell me about her sad life where she was always the victim. She used to make me feel so bad for her it made me sad. I remember dreams where I couldn't describe it as a kid, but as an adult, best I can describe it is I was a balloon being blown up and I felt like I couldn't be contained and I was about to explode. I think those dreams were the my first signs of feeling anxious or "under pressure".

That's just mind fucking. It doesn't even cover the physical abuse.

There's a Chinese saying, "Hitting is affection/closeness. Scolding/yelling/criticism is love." (This is definitely psychological abuse, but I'm putting it under physical because this was the justification of their physical abuse.)

My grandma used to beat my with the back of a broom handle that was kept in her closet. It got to the point that every time she even looked or headed towards the closet, I was afraid. I would run for the bathroom because it was the only place in the apt with a lock on the door.

My mom hit me. The worst was when she realized I didn't practice piano during a piano lesson. She dragged me from my piano bench, by the hair, across the floor to the kitchen. Grabbed her rolling pin (for dough, which was essentially a wooden stick with an inch diameter) and beat my ass. My ass was black and blue almost instantaneously and she felt bad, but it was done.

There were times she would just say to me, "I've had a long day, I'm too tired to beat you. Hit yourself for me." I, like a dumbass would just be on my knees and bashing my own head with my fists. I was 9 or 10yrs old. (Again, I would categorize that as more psychological abuse than physical).


My grandma once told me a story about how (before my dad dropping me off at my grandparents for good, so before 4-5yrs old, I don't remember this...) I kissed my uncle on the lips, as she tells the story. She asked why I did that and I said, (according to her), "I saw my dad kiss someone else like that".

The only time I saw my dad after being a kid was when I was in my early teenage years. I just hit puberty and started to wear a bra. My mom thought maybe I wanted to know my dad. I remember being in the elevator with him and my mom's mom (grandma) and I felt something on my shoulder. When I looked it was him apparently trying to tuck my bra strap back underneath my tank top, but it didn't feel like that. It felt sexual. I did not feel comfortable.

I remember my mom kissed me one morning, and my response was "Ew you just French kissed me" and she was surprised I knew what it meant. (9-11yrs range not sure how old). But my mouth was closed, and she tonged the outside of my mouth.

All these different forms of abuse that made me feel so insignificant, unwanted, a burden. I'm starting to look back and question how much that really had to do with me.


I'm starting to wonder maybe I was just a punching bag.


What I know, my mom feared for her life when she was married to my dad, that was the reason for her abortion. She told me how she used to check for a gun in his briefcase when he came home or how she would stand with her back against a post while waiting for the subway because she feared being pushed down into the tracks.

I was the product of a relationship where she feared for her life. My dad was a bully. I'm not even sure the extent of the abuse she had to endure. All I knew was that he swept her off her feat, he danced like Prince Charming and my grandpa did not like him. My grandpa was such a good judge of character, I think that alone should have told me enough, but my mom was stubborn and rebellious.

When I put the pieces together, given the fact he was abusive, the way she treated me and made me feel.

I can only come to one conclusion, that I indeed was not wanted. I was the product of an abusive husband/marriage, she ran away from that relationship to Canada and left me with her parents.

I am pretty sure the reason why she's cut ties with me now, is because truthfully speaking, she never wanted me to begin with and I'm a constant reminder of my dad.

Last time I saw her, she made these "jokes". She took a look at my pink combat boots (she loves combat boots) and she says, "So you are my daughter after all". The tone and comment suggested that she thinks we have nothing in common and the only sign of proof was that we have similar tastes in shoes.

I mean her marriage was so on the rocks she got an abortion before me.


My grandma, middle of her 2 sisters. Her older sister was start and pretty. Her younger sister was cuter and well younger. My grandma was... I don't know how to explain it. I wonder if maybe she was a lesbian. Her pictures looked butch. She was misandrous and she always questioned me as if I had been molested or raped.

I mean even before I hit puberty. I do not recall any type of sexual abuse. But maybe the story of me kissing my uncle (before age 5, before I could remember) wasn't quite the way she told it. Did I really see my dad kissing someone else on the lips and I was mimicking him and his actions?

The causes are speculation.


My mom makes me feel like I am indebted to her for raising me. I wonder if that's because she didn't want to have anything to do with me and she felt obligated to raise me.

My grandma made me feel like men are nasty and I am just a toy to them. I just don't understand because she was married to my grandpa. How can she be married to such a thoughtful man and harbor so much hate for them?

My whole life I've been pro-abortion, and I never wanted children because there was always someone who made me feel like I was not wanted.

I am so complacent with pain, when I'm being hurt, or when I am being treated as if I am nothing because that's all I know. Not only is it what I know, it's what I've been told is love.

But I hate it. I hate being hurt, I just want to be cared for.

I don't want to be hurt anymore. I don't want to be under the impression that pain is love.

I need to break the cycle.

Thursday, June 21, 2018

House Arrest:

I've left my apt once in the last week and it was to go to work on Monday night.

There's a part of me that is thankful I have that as a reason to quite literally pick myself up from my bed and force myself to step outside my apartment.

I thought about going to Chinatown for food that reminds me of home.

I thought about going to see Deadpool2 and the new Incredibles movie.

I need to pick up my Rx of birth control at the pharmacy but the thought of stepping outside of me apt and walking a block is paralyzing.

I thought about going to a meeting. I also thought about going to church.

I fantasized about going to the driving range to hit a bucket of balls. Since I can't go shooting in the city, I wondered if my old pass times would help me release the rage I feel.

I considered going to get a new piecing or tat so that I could feel a bit of physical pain because I was curious if that would distract me.

When it comes down to it, I can barely get myself out of bed.

I can't pinpoint why I feel so sad, so unmotivated.

It would be naive to call it depression because I've never quite felt like this before.

I get flashes of random ways to off myself but those images are unsolicited.

Suicide seems too effortful. I have no desire to harm myself in the direct sense of trying to kill myself.

I'm angry and I want to cause pain.

I'm scared and I want to be held.

I'm stressed, tired and I just want to know how I can get passed this.

Every day, I tell myself I'm going to get myself out of the house today. I tell myself that, "Today is the day."

But come 7pm, I'm sleepy and next thing I know it's the crack of dawn and a new day has started.

Everyone seems like they want something from me but I've got nothing to give.

I can let them use me like the shell of a woman that I feel, but somehow I know it will leave me feeling even more empty.

I already know because that's what I let the dick do. I just let him use me, and that was all on me.

I tried to ask for a hug, and he held me until I let go. If I held on any longer, I might have bursted into tears and I've done that plenty of times in the past.

I tried to tell him he was hurting me but I want him to be satisfied.

I need to try harder to communicate my desires to him, instead of just letting him do his thing and hope he does something I like, which for the most part, I enjoy.

I want him to be happy because I'm trying my best to keep it together for him. Even if I'm pretending I'm ok, I think maybe I can "fake it till I make it".

He's the most interesting person I've ever met, and I'm afraid if he's not satisfied or happy with me, my ball of crazy just won't be worth his time.

He reminds me a lot of myself.

Strong yet broken. Fiercely independent almost to a stubborn and unnecessary extent.

Talented in countless ways with a sexual drive that gives mine a run for it's money.

I sense a familiar internal struggle within him like me, one where we are doing what we want for ourselves, vs conforming to outside influences of family/society.

Aware of our darkness and imperfections, we also strive to put good back into the world.

He liked my drive and I'm afraid my lack of motivation is incredibly unattractive.

I drank on Monday, unfortunately that's just what happens when an alcoholic works in a bar. I know alcohol is a depressant so I've been trying my best to lay off of it.

In the past two weeks I've smoked a handful of times, in an attempt to taper off instead of cold turkey. Roughly half a gram, which is considerably modest in my opinion. I want to give it a break because I know amotivational syndrome is real.

I may not be able to leave my apt, but perhaps I've put myself under some type of house arrest to detox?

There's just so much to it.

I'm afraid of people because I feel insecure.

I'm afraid people want more than I am willing or capable of giving.

I feel empty.

I see my words and I know they are all signs that point to certain labels or diagnoses.

This is my way of trying to stabilize myself.

Admit my shortcomings so I can try harder to be better because today is a new day.

I share because I don't think I'm alone.

I share in case someone else feels my pain and they know they are not alone.

I share to make my "quiet desperation" not so quiet because I deeply understand when Thoreau said, "the mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation". 

Monday, June 18, 2018

Ongoing Consent:

As unsexy as it sounds, communication is critical before, during and after any sexual encounter.

It's important to express likes, dislikes, limits. 

For me, I don't like to talk about what I like because then people just predictably go for the "slam dunk". 

Quite frankly that's like Shaq going for the basket, yeah 80-90% of the time he will make the basket in the paint but there's just no excitement in that because that's his specialty. 

I've got spots on my body where I can get so aroused from someone kissing or teasing, it actually annoys me because I don't like someone having that much power over me.

I had an ex that knew my spot, I didn't want to hook up with him because he was dating my friend. He went for my "spot" and for a moment, I pounced on him and I couldn't control that sexual hunger. I was so aroused, I grabbed his face and I almost kissed him but I gained control of my faculties before I did. 

I just don't want to know the play by play, nor do I want someone to have that type of control. 

Pet names, or what's the term.... certain .... fuck I'm bad with sex terms... certain like... names like "bitch", "slut", "master", "sir", "miss", "mistress", "daddy" etc should be discussed prior. 

Just because someone is dominant or submissive does not necessarily mean they like to be called a certain name. 

For me, I have "bitch", "cunt", "slut", "whore" filtered from my MFC chatroom. 

Just because someone says yes to one thing, does not mean they said yes to everything, keep checking in with each other. 

Just because someone likes something in the past, doesn't mean that's what they want in the current moment. 

If it feels uncomfortable, stop. 

Sometimes I like it hard, rough and it's animalistic. Hair pulling, spanks, dirty talk, grunts. 

Sometimes I like sweet soft and sensual. Kisses, eye contact, sharing a breath. 

I really like my current sex partner. 

We've always talked a lot about sex and I feel safe with him sexually because I've never communicated the way I do with him. I've never even bothered trying. 

He gives me a little bit of both, soft and hard, and he's the least predictable of all my past lovers. 

I think because I feel safe, I fail to speak. 

I know I have the tendency to please, and I put others above me, but it's just not healthy. 

I should try to express myself more. 

Poor guy. 

I can't expect him to just know if I don't say anything. 

I don't think I ever realized how the aftercare was so subconscious. 

I don't think I every realized how much I treasured napping/sleeping with someone. 

There's so much I want to do but there never seems like there's enough time. 

I should trust my instincts more, and remember it's those instincts that lead me to the roof sex. 

But despite how long of a span we've been fucking, I'm still lacking the comfort to lead. 

I wonder how much the impulse control has to do with drinking. 

I usually prefer a couple of drinks when I socialize so that I am able to speak my mind better. 

I didn't at all last time. 

I think I was thinking more of like, a walk to a park, kissing and seeing what we can get away with in public. 

As he would say, something to look forward to I guess. 

I just needed to remind myself to not be afraid to speak up, and lead because he deserves it. 

Saturday, June 16, 2018

Shell of a Woman:

I feel drained.

Emotionally, physically, mentally.

I'm sad, alone, and I feel completely empty on the inside.

When people text me to hang out, it's never simple.

I feel like there are always ulterior motives.

I need to start learning to just say "no" because things never go how I expect them to.

Wish they had an app where people just want to cuddle.

I just want a hug and to watch a movie.

I feel like in terms of ulterior motives, women are even worse than men because men typically just want sexual things.

I try to be transparent and honest with people.

I wish people treated me with the same respect.

The way people treat me sometimes, I feel like I'm not even a person.

I feel like the shell of a woman with nothing to give, yet people just keep asking and taking.

I want to scream and tell them to stop.

I don't know how not to feel so miserable.

I went to the roof of a 40 story building and I couldn't help but think about making a sexy video then taking a leap off the ledge to fly like those did on 9/11.

I don't want to die. I just imagined myself free falling into bliss.

I'm exhausted, and I want to know that things will be ok.

But it just feels like my world is spinning out of control and I'm just begging the universe to stop.

Friday, June 15, 2018


One of the things I've always admired about my mom was her strength.

The month I graduated college, my mom cut me off financially despite the fact that I was not employed.

Since then, I've never expected help from her or anyone else.

I once had a guy say to me "You are you're own power couple".

In an odd way, that's what I wanted.

These days I just feel lost and tired.

I always felt like if I just kept going and moving that I would have this magical "Eureka" moment where everything makes sense.

But I'm exhausted and I have no idea what I'm doing or where I'm going.

My family was always my guidance and without them, I'm trying to learn how to live for myself.

I so desperately want to find my own happiness from within and not my surroundings.

But how?

Is everyone super good at faking it? Or am I just a shit mess?

Realistically speaking, it's probably a little of both.

I don't even know where to begin to clean things up and it is showing.

I'm slipping and I'm cracking.

Making a hard effort to start from within and let's see if I can not blaze for a bit.

I'm always about experimenting to see what the outcome is, and that's something that's been a constant for some time and I am curious what my baseline is.

My relationship with alcohol is getting out of control. I love my creativity and how I can sometimes connect those weird feelings to words when I drink. But as honest as I am when I'm drunk, I'm no longer creative and it's hurting me.

Maybe this whole time I've just been a car on a two dimensional plane, bouncing around like a caffeinated spider.

But I need to be a plane and travel up.

Everything just seems so bleak.

I used to think I've got things under control.

Now, I'm constantly thinking, "What am I doing?".

I can't even tell if I'm trying or I've given up.

Is it possible to feel both simultaneously?

Perhaps trying but not hard enough or I'm not trying yet but I want to?

I feel like I need a hug. To curl up and be reassured that it will be ok.

I just don't know how much longer I can hold myself together.

This isn't a cry for help.

Just my way of venting so I can get it out, see it in front of me.

A feeble way of trying.

Trying to be better.

I know I can get back there, but I'm frozen on the "how?".

1 week without bud is not enough to even get my appetite back.


I need to be the one who tells myself it will be ok.

I'm smart and I got this stupid thing called "life".

Adulting is so much harder than people make it look.

How is it so effortless for some?

I just wish my mom would text me and ask me if I'm ok.

I'll tell her things are great but I just need to know she actually cares.

Then part of me screams out, "NO!" because I wonder if that's just the twisted desperation of an abused puppy speaking and it doesn't know any better.

Again, I need to find the strength within me to pick myself back up.

Am I being stubborn?

I don't really know how to bring myself to part from my bed today, but I need to.

I need to be better.

I do not want to be in this same place next year.

I don't want to feel so stuck.

I want to look in the mirror and see someone worth loving.

I just don't know where my confidence went.

Not to mention my Muse.

I feel like I'm failing at life and I am painfully uninspired.

I get little glimmers of hope but I'm not quick enough to catch them.

I wish I could have Flash abilities.

But I'm just a human. Mortal.

I want to get better because I fear if I don't I'm going to lose everyone around me.

For once in my life I'm trying to keep people in my life.

Lois may be human but I am not a damsel because I can and I will save myself.

I want to look like Wonder Woman with Flash powers.

My brain is all over the place and I'm not even sure if all this verbal non-sense helped.

But I know, I'm trying. 

It's literally baffling to me how we don't choose to be born, yet I feel indebted to the people who choose to not abort me.

It was my mom's choice to have me. She could have aborted me like the pregnancy before me and I would never be alive as my grandma so kindly told me as a teenager.

I shouldn't have to feel guilty for wanting to live life for myself instead of them.

I don't know how to unburden myself.

I just know I'm tired of carrying so much weight on my shoulders.

Watching Sir Paul sing me Hey Jude via YouTube was a pick me up.

Tuesday, June 12, 2018

Dear Diary:

Today was a weird day.

I mean.... I woke up to a series of texts and a lot of people said things that were extremely flattering.

My first text exchange of the day I had a guy friend text me saying "Hope all is well miss that beautiful face lol". It picked me up because all women like to be told their beautiful, and it's nice to be missed.

Then I responded to a text from the guy/company who buys my jewelry in bulk. He was responding to a message I sent from the previous day saying "Anything to get your jewelry in the hands of happy customers." I replied saying "Thank you so much for your support. I've been feeling painfully uninspired. Your responses mean a lot!". He called me instantly asking me "What's up? Why?". So I started to explain I came back from the jewelry show in Vegas and I just felt not only burnt from making thousands of pieces that went unsold but all of the stuff got shipped back into my apt and I'm buried in STUFF. My mind is all over the place, I had all these ideas pulling me in all directions and I let the voices of my family calling my passion a "gig" get to me.

He started giving me ideas on how to market, gave me a direction, and I just blurted out "Thank you, I love you". I mean I have a problem saying "I love you" but sometimes in the spur of the moment it comes out because I love them. He replied saying "I'm in love with you". It wasn't like for serious but it was still so weird to hear someone say it. It made me uncomfortable for a split moment but then I accepted it. I understood what he meant, and I swallowed the compliment as it was. I mean yes he's a very sexy man but I can't pinpoint why I feel weird about our exchanges. Perhaps it's because I'm in love with him and his wife and I don't know why she's not in the picture at the moment. Perhaps it's because I don't like the idea of mixing business and pleasure. I mean he makes me feel so good about myself because he supports and PRAISES my creations so much, but something feels off. I blame myself for this feeling because I accidentally sent a picture that showed a little too much of me (as in vagina and all), but I'm also relieved that someone is so accepting of all my crazy.

I took his call in my car and I finished it out side of work. I stepped into work and the night was different too.

It was a quiet night. My manager told me he was happy to see my because I give him "hope".

I spent a lot of time thinking about how to rebrand my jewelry, new name, new logo. I doodled on countless napkins with new ideas.

I spoke to a guy, told him my age and he literally stood up and was like "ok bye".

Never in my life have I ever had someone react this way like I was "too old". (This guy was well into his 60s+, so it made it extra fucked up). Usually people like my age, I'm not a woman in my 20s. I've got time under my belt, educated, well traveled and if you're lucky, I'm pretty funny. He was talking to me about Thailand and Indonesia, then he started to talk to my friend who's dark skinned about Africa and Ethiopia... How rude, ignorant, racist can you be?

His card got declined and he tried to return his drink....

My mom, grandma, they all taught me how to be a lady and classy. That was fucking ratchet.

At this point, I just want to go home.

Get home, hop on cam and on some level it's like I can breathe.

Guys were nice, and I knew someone that came by and showed me mad love.

Did a private with him and we played with my butt.

See, another thing that made my day so all over the place. I never do butt stuff.

But yesterday and today I was like, "Let's put stuff in my butt".

For the first time, I enjoyed myself. I mean with stuff in my butt. Haha. I mean normally it's so weird and I low-key hate it. But my relationship with anal is weird like that. Purely the definition of insanity... I keep trying it hoping for a different result, but today I actually did get a different result it was rather enjoyable.

So my cam day kind of made up for how shitty my work day went.

I'm thankful to know that there's a person or people out there who truly do love my creations and they support it 1000%.

Maybe I'm afraid their interest in my work is based on the accidental picture I sent but I have to remind myself that our partnership started well before that and the fact that it the picture didn't deter them should be a good thing.

I'm trying not to let some idiot's reaction to my age get to me but as a woman who's been working in the adult industry for 8yrs, I know my time is limited and it's a daunting fear.

Days like this I want to curl up in the arms of my fav Dick and just cry but we don't have that type of "relationship". I've broken down into tears in his arms countless times but I feel like it's unfair to put those feelings onto him because we simply fuck. Despite all the chaos, when he responds to my texts, it always surprises me because they are so unexpected yet perfect and comforting.

Admittedly, I know I'm in love with him and I'm trying my best not to let my insecurities get in the way, but I can't help but think "No, I can't. It's not fair to him". I feel like the shell of a woman and I've got nothing to give. I'm sad and uninspired. I'm completely lost. I don't even know who I am anymore. I don't understand how he feels about me, all I know is I'm honest with him, I try to be transparent, he sticks around and makes me happy. It annoys me that he makes me happy because I don't want my "happiness" to be dependent on another, I want it to come from within me. I miss him all the time.

Maybe I'm so bothered by hearing a guy tell me he's in love with me and it's not coming from the mouth of my favorite dick. But realistically speaking, I don't ever expect to hear those words from him. I take our courtship for what it is and I'm grateful because honestly, I don't even like me right now.

I think my point is that the majority of my day, I felt appreciated while not having the self-esteem like I deserve the praise.

My buyer said, we can't just go to sleep in hopes that we would wake up feeling inspired.

That's what I've been trying to do. Sleep until I wake up one day feeling like my confident self.

He advised me to do something that calms me before bed. Dumping my thoughts out on a blog has always helped me clear my mind.

I'm hoping all those napkins are a sign that my Muse is watching over my shoulders again. I've so desperately missed her energy. I know she doesn't abandon me and I was waiting for her to come back to me. I'm tired of waiting...

I'm going to try and put myself back together, look for her and pull her back to me. Wherever my Muse went, I'm going to find Her.

Friday, June 8, 2018

I love you:

Currently watching show where this guy keeps saying "I love you".

Those words sound so weird to me. I quite literally can't stand hearing them sometimes because it sounds empty. 

My grandpa never said "I love you" to me not in Chinese, Russian and definitely not in English, but I just knew that he did. I could see it in the way he looked at me. I made a vow to myself long ago that I would spend my life looking for someone who looked at me the way he did... with pure adoration. 

I can call people "love" because I have love for a lot of people. But I just hate saying "I love you". 

When I hear people say it to me, I think to myself, "No you don't because you don't really know me. You know what you've seen, which is probably what I've shown you."

I don't even know how long it's been, but I simply don't feel worthy of people's love. When I'm on cam and a guy starts to spoil me, I have the tendency to ignore them or push them away. 

When there are people around me and they show too much interest I remove myself from the situation. (This is where cigarette breaks comes in handy despite the fact that I can go days, weeks months and I just don't get "cravings"). 

It's even worse when I have feelings for someone because the feeling of being unworthy of love is combined with the fear of abandonment and I just find ways to distance myself. 

Women, I like to distract myself with women when I'm really into a guy. 

If I look back and think about where my insecurities came from, my mom left me with my grandparents in China when I was 2yrs old. Kids would sing this Chinese song, "In this world, mom is best". Whenever I heard it I was so sad because I thought to myself... "I wouldn't know". 

When I was 7yrs old, I went to go live with my mom in Canada. I remember the first time she got mad at my because I made a 1inch cut on our bedsheets because I wanted to test out how sharp the scissors were. I remember her screaming and throwing a stack of bills at me out of anger and probably stress, but looking back, that was so trivial. 

I recently found a dated suicide letter from when I was 11yrs old. I cried when I read it because I talked about how I felt like a burden and how I felt like my mom would be so much happier without me being "in the way". 

In Feb or March I confessed my darkest secret to the person, actually people by association, I wronged the most in my life. The things they said to me, it sounded like the things I tell myself. "You deserve the worst in life and there's a special place in hell for you". I simply don't disagree. and that's why I realized I've been punishing myself emotionally for a decade now. 

Every ounce of "good" I do, has been a feeble effort to redeem my soul. 

I balled like a freaken baby when my friend said to me, "Stop and just let me love you."

My lack of motivation, inspiration, insecurity, fear I think it all stems from being passed around by my family back and forth in terms of custody and the fact that no one wanted to take responsibility of me as a kid. It doesn't usually affect me so much but I have triggers and my family kind of nailed the coffin shut on those. I'm so hurt by them I just want to learn how to live my life without them so that they can't do this to me again. 

Even today, I had this urge to try and make up with my mom but then I realized it would only give her the opportunity to hurt me more in the future. 

I really desperately need to find myself. I need to find my own happiness and self-esteem that isn't based on how much a person or people love me. I hate myself for being such a desperate people pleaser. What have they done for me? 

Despite the separation anxiety I feel about the idea of leaving NYC, I think I really need to go on an RV road trip even if it's for a few months. I think I'm just going to try to start packing? Maybe worse comes to worse, I'll put my stuff in storage.

I think I was hoping that motivation would find me but I am to the point where I think I need to find it before something else does or before I lose all of my will. 

Today was better than yesterday. I vow to make tomorrow better than today.

Contributions to my RV dream is so greatly appreciated Thank you

Thursday, June 7, 2018


3 super ratchet things happened to me last night. The first two, I handled myself not perfectly but I was able to communicate and stand up for myself. The third though... I can't get over how a guy had to "white knight" it and speak up for me.

I hate when I can't speak up right then and there.

Then, after everything is said and done, the moment is gone. I beat myself up so hard over it.

Why do I just smile and pretend like I'm ok?

Why can't I say "no"?

Would I feel like this if it wasn't someone else who stood up for me?

I feel so pathetic for being unable to stand up for myself.

I just need to be held in safe arms.

Friday, June 1, 2018

Crepes of Love:

Had a dream about bringing two eggs to the crepe stand, same stand that later started to sell the liangpi that I also have dreams about. 

To explain, the eggs are used for the crepes. Bringing eggs is a way to lessen the cost of the crepe, and it was the only way my grandma ever let my buy one. 

I always have dreams where I go and get crepes with eggs. 

This crepe stand was originally ran by a guy who was about my grandpa's age, and I remember him and his wife running their two stands as a child. 

As I got older, I left China and upon my return, the crepe man's son ran the stand. 

A few years later the stand was ran by a woman. I later found out this was the crepe man's son's wife. 

From man and wife that were my grandparents age to son and wife. 

Some years later I watched a child pee in the middle of the crepe stand and I kind of lost my appetite for them. 

But till this day, I'll chase down a crepe stand, in search of a memory. 

Each time I try, it feels empty.... like it's missing an ingredient, or two , or five. Sometimes it's so close but just not quite there and I am frustrated to tears. 

I remember the crepe man's wife telling me there was 5 different types of flour in the mixture... 

and that... is Love. 

I don't think I could ever offer them anything to divulge their family recipe, nor would I ever want to but I dream of their crepes.... crepes of love. 

The epitome of a mom and pop shop, passed down to son and wife, pissed in by their grandkids. 

Whenever I go back, I look for their stand, where ever it might be, I am there. 

And when I am there, I am brought back to my childhood. Relishing a moment of wealth because I got permission to bring two eggs and buy a crepe. 

I miss home. I miss the crepes, I miss my godmother who is my moral compass. 

Truthfully, I think I miss the most naive and innocent corner of my soul. That fragment of me that was pure, and I don't mean in a sexual virgin sense, just a light hearted sense. A soul without the weight of the world on it's shoulders. 

I miss being light. 

or lighter... I was never really light. just lighter than I am now. I've got a craving for liangpi and a fear that if I get an RV and leave NYC I won't be able to console myself with food the way I have in the past few years. 

Tuesday, May 22, 2018


I am upset to tears right now and I don't think I can even try and attempt sleep until I just ramble out words.

Around the age of 14-15, my mom told me "All men cheat. If they don't do it they think about it." She later proceeded to tell me that every guy she's ever dated or married has cheated on her.

At 16, that's exactly what I repeated to the first boy I kissed.

My mom, she had an abortion before she got pregnant with me because she was unsure about the status of her marriage. She had me and left me to be raised with my grandparents at 2.

She was scared of my biological father to the extent she told me she would check his bag for a gun or stand with her back to a post on the subway because she feared getting pushed onto the tracks.

He made her fear for her life, and I'm the product of that relationship.

Tonight, I met a married guy of 16yrs who talked about his relationship unlike anyone I've ever met.

He talked about the highs, lows, kids, and I am shaken to the core because I didn't know men like him existed.

I love men and women. When I fall for a guy, that's my dick, but women they are so magnetic.

To some extent, I don't think I can ever just be happy with one woman forever, but I could about a dick.

So, I've always given guys a "pass". As in, I understand because if a hot chick was in front of me, I'd prob try to hook up with her too. I don't expect guys to be faithful to me but I want honesty in regards to their involvement with other women, partially because I'm living vicariously through their dick.

I love women in the sense like I can't see myself being happy, nor faithful to one woman forever. I would definitely crave the dick, men, their essence, and I would skirt chase other chicks.

I love men but I don't see myself being faithful to one because I love women.

I'm loyal and I'm a playboy.

I just can't believe I met a guy who has his type of mentality.

I admire it, but I know it's too late for me.

I just want for all the little girls in the world to know that there are good guys out there. Ones who are capable of being completely dedicated to their woman.

I hate my mom and even grandma for plaguing my mentality with this idea that all men want is sex, or that they are sexually driven without self-control.

The whole time, I kept thinking to myself I love how much you love your wife, I wish someone felt that way about me.

It didn't make me want to try and take it because then he wouldn't possess the quality I admired about him.

It didn't make me want to find that for myself because my feelings in regards to women make me incapable of being faithful to a man.

It just made me want to make sure that I try and get rid of my preconceived notion about men.

It made me think about not passing the view onto others.

I thought about the guy who no longer wanted threesomes after a certain stage in our relationship and I hated it.

That doesn't work for me, but I'm realizing maybe he was just one of those guys. I don't want a guy who is closed off to the idea of threesomes but I want to truly believe that there are men in the world who are capable of monogamy.

I honestly just don't believe that's possible, to be monogamous to one woman, but today I'm wondering how much that has to do with how I was raised.

Saturday, May 19, 2018

"Selfish & insecure, spoiled whiny bitch":

Woke up to a text from Dave that read "You're a selfish & insecure, spoiled whiny bitch".

Which considering the topic of "exs" has been on my mind lately the timing is freaky.

So let's put this in perspective. Dave and I dated for about 3.5yrs while I was in college, we lived together, fought, & fucked. That relationship fucked me up so much all of my courtships with men since is around 3-5mos. The lows I felt, how crazy I got, I'll never forget how much I hated that version of me. I never want to feel those things ever again so I've just subconsciously avoided getting serious with guys I dated.

We've been broken up for over a decade now. I did see him before I moved because he came over to help me pack up my apt, we didn't hook up but him being there, we fought and I realized we're toxic to each other. He brings out the very worst in me and I do not make him a better man. It's been over 5yrs since I've seen him.

In Feb, I contacted because I wanted to tell him something. I kind of intended to take it to the grave, but I was so tired. I selfishly told myself I was doing him a favor, severing the last of his feelings for me was the best thing to do for him. Before I always felt like he was holding onto the positives without knowing all the darkness. He was in love with a woman who loved him. But he didn't understand the monster he turned her into. I just wanted him to see me for who I became not who I was when I first fell in love with him.

So it's been 3mos since I last spoke with him or contacted him. He chooses today to text me. OK. It was actually nicer than what his mom said, and even what she said, I agreed with her. So Dave's text idk. Both of theirs actually.

His mom said something about how I deserve the very worst in life, how there's a special place in Hell for me. Yup. I agree.

His text said something he wants to beat me up and wishes I'd get locked up. Ok, so do to me what he did to our walls. Lock up? Have you seen OITNB? I'd Lil-Soso that shit.

But ok in all seriousness, their words, I've been beating myself up for a very long time, and there's a part of me that will always carry that weight.

I am all those things he said. I am selfish, I absolutely hate that about myself.

I am painfully insecure.

I've been spoiled rotten.

I complain incessantly.

I give what I get. I can be a bitch/cunt. I can be kind/generous.

Here's the thing, sticks and stones may break my bones, but you know why words will never hurt me? Because my fucked up head is constantly criticizing myself, hating on myself... like he said... it's the insecurity.

He then said something about how I should delete his number and never contact him.

I understand his anger. I felt that for a very very long time. I hated him because I became a person who scared myself.

I could have been a selfish coward and not told him, but I decided to be a selfish bitch and tell him a truth I owed him.

I just want to move on because I'm just so tired of punishing myself and hating so much.

Goodbye Dave.

I tell myself it wasn't love, but there was a moment in there where we did purely, and truly love each other. We never got married but I was your wifey and you were my hubby.

But what it turned into, that was not love. People should never be that toxic to each other, and that's what we became for each other. I don't ever want to "love" like that ever again.

Friday, May 18, 2018


I don't even know where to begin but I haven't ranted "habitually" in a while.

I think I've been avoiding ... well everything.

I can't explain this lack of motivation I feel. Days I don't work, I can't even get myself to leave my bed let alone my apt, and there's this pile of God know what that's always in my bed. I can clear it but the next day it's back. Same with the things on the floor. I can have someone come over to help me clean but then everything goes back to the way it was.

I keep talking about my mom and the thing is, it's my mom that pointed out that I talk about people because I'm thinking of them. It can be good or bad, but I remember once I was trying to get over this guy who was a complete jerk and my mom simply demanded she didn't want to hear me talk about him ever again.

I miss her but I miss the good. Then I think about the bad, and the bad is exceptionally dark.

I think about how family meant everything to my grandpa, and I admired him like mad for that.

So my natural reaction is to crawl back to an psychologically and formerly physically abusive mother.

But having her in my life isn't healthy. It's never been because she makes me feel like a burden. I felt that she consistently choose a strange man who was not my father over her own flesh and blood.

Now she's alone and miserable because my ex step dad cheated on our family. I don't condone his actions but I also knew how unbearable my mom was. I was and am scared of her because he hurt her and I feel like he would and will again if she lets him back into her life, which she seems like she is doing.

I look back at the 8yrs of piano lessons she forced me to take when I am completely tone deaf, why? She wanted to give me something she wanted but it just wasn't for me. She used to make me give her money if I didn't practice piano which is a really weird punishment for a kid who does not have a job and only an allowance.

I wish I got to take art lessons instead, but I didn't say anything. She forced an aspiration onto me while ignoring a talent I did have. I think it's selfish.

Last March I found a suicide letter i wrote dated 20yrs ago, I was a child, and I felt like such a burden on her life. She made me feel like I kept her from doing the things she wanted.

Now I find myself saying super fucked up things to people I care about and my words have her spikes and I'm so fucking angry.

I'm angry that she didn't just have a freaken abortion like she did with all her other pregnancies.

I fucking cried when I heard someone call me by my given name because it had been so long since I've heard it be used. But part of me wondered why does it bother me so much, when it's just my "given name"? A name that was put onto us by the people who choose to have us. That girl, my momma's girl, she's gone.

I just don't understand how people can wake up every day with the will to live because I sure as hell did not choose to be born.

This whole concept of having kids and family is fucking weird. I mean as a self-aware living being, I didn't choose life. Why does my family make me feel like I owe them something for raising me. It's not even like they did a good job of it. I mean they tried but they fucking sucked because if a 10yr old wants to kill herself, who's fault is that?

I don't know how to snap out of this feeling like I'm worthless. I'm not taking very good care of myself. I don't even know where to begin. I think I just keep going to sleep, waking up and thinking one day I'll wake up and things will change.

But realistically speaking, nothing will change if I don't change. So one thing I'm trying to change is to not crawl back to my mom for validation because there's nothing to validate.

She feels like she went out of her way to give me what she couldn't have. But from my perspective, I didn't ask her to give up or sacrifice anything on my behalf, and I absolutely hate feeling like I am indebted to her.

I don't like to feel like I'm indebted to anyone. I take pride in my drive to be independent even though it sometimes makes my life infinitely harder to not ask for help.

I sometimes feel like she's trying to cash a voucher I can't give. My whole life I felt so much weight, to get good grades, to be good, I just felt this huge burden to live up to my family's expectations because I'm an only child.

I've been thinking about my childhood a lot lately. I feel the truth is, I got in the way. My mom was raising a child, by herself, one who is the offspring of someone she probably despised or feared, I must have been a burden.

I feel like what I felt as a kid might have not been untrue. Maybe it wasn't just how she made me feel but something that she truly felt herself.

That's the all in the past but it's putting a strain on my present.

My mom left me in China at the age of 2. Then from about 2-4 or 5, I would spend one month with my dad, one month with my mom's parents. I remember crying to my grandparents on the phone and wanting to leave my dads. My mom later told me, I also cried to my dad's family and didn't want to leave them, but I have no memory of that.

I just felt like I was being passed back and forth, until the day my dad dropped me off at my grandparents along with all my stuff.

(Oddly enough, I later married a man who dropped all my stuff off at my parents house.)

Feeling unwanted by the two sides of my family as a kid, makes me incredibly terrified... of everything and everyone.

I'm having a very hard time understanding other people's motivation for living, because I don't see the point.

I am constantly keeping people at a distance or pushing them away because I am petrified of how useless I feel when I get abandoned.

My crazy gets so out of control, I want to spare those I care about. I don't know if it's insane or heroic.

I'm horny all the time, and I've always been like that but sometimes I wonder if it's just a desire to feel something. Maybe what I really need, is to be accepted, not for who people think I am, nor who they want me to be. But who I actually am.

I got called an "attractive ball of crazy", I think that has to be one of my favorite descriptions of me because the I am flattered this person thinks I am attractive, and even I, will agree that I am a "ball of crazy".

Sometimes I make more of an effort to hide it. IE I feel this pressure to pretend to be "normal" when I try to date. But I'm not normal, so I will try to explain myself to people and then they typically lose interest, or get scared idk. I think sometimes I try to scare people away.

I was raised with a saying "hitting is affection, yelling/scolding is love". It's so fucked up. Love shouldn't hurt. It doesn't really help to yell, what does help is trying to explain your perspective even if you don't understand it yourself. TRY.

I'm trying to break some really deeply ingrained bad habits. Some days it feels like I am drowning while others I feel like I might have a chance. 

My thoughts have been all over the place and I've been avoiding getting into the downward spiral of thinking about my family woes, while I also touch on it. So here's my attempt to ditch some baggage.


Hope that it's a step towards letting go some of the weight I carry.

Monday, April 30, 2018


I had 1 boyfriend in high school that lasted 1 month.

After high school, I lost my virginity to a guy I'm still friends with till this day. We joked about the name of our kids, but those will be kept imaginary.

In college I dated Dave for nearly 4 years. He used to call me "wifey" but then the nickname disappeared the same day that look in his eyes did.

After Dave, a guy proposed to me, got my name + date we met tattooed on his arm. But my insecurities made me hang onto him longer than I should have. It was selfish and wrong.

Once I started camming, all of it changed.

I didn't realize it till now.

I dated a guy who just wanted to be fuck buddies.

Then I tried to get over that guy by dating a guy who later told me he doesn't want anything serious with me because there are videos of me on the internet and he doesn't want to have kids and risk them finding videos of their mom on the internet.

I then ran away to NYC because I was dating a guy who I felt was in the process of ghosting me and I wanted to get the upper hand by moving away from him.

Once I moved here, I dated a guy who introduced me to his mom to spite her.

The most recent, it's too recent for me to comment.

My frustration and internal fight this whole time, was about this stigma of being a sex worker.

I went from being the girl that whenever I dated someone, I felt the pressure of them wanting marriage and kids.

Since being a camgirl, at best, people hesitate to bring me around to their loved ones, if they even choose to do so in the first place.

I still feel like a good girl. I'm passionate and loyal, but I don't know if I can live with the stigma of my choices.

I don't feel like I am myself, I feel like I am what I do for a living.

I've given up trying to fight it. I let my etsy shop go because I feel like I'm kidding myself and everyone around me.

I don't have talent, I had an ambition, but I lost that motivation because it's just a front.

It was my tool because I wanted people to see me as more than "just a camgirl".

But my pain, isolation, and loneliness is real. I can't drink, sleep nor wish it away. It's always there.

Did I change? Maybe I lost faith in love and then the way guys have treated me is a result of my own insecurity.

Or is there a stigma around what I do for a living?

Either way, I want to stop making excuses.

I know what I want.

I need a man in my life. I know all I need is one, I need to be his number 1, and I need that to be known/established.

I want women in our lives because I love tits, but I need to be in control and again, I need to be his number 1.

I feel like I am wishing to day walk with the sun and the moon, not impossible, but not probable.

My RV goal was motivated by my emotional turmoil and financial stress. I know that it will not ease my feelings, but I hope it will help my financial situation.

Still just wishing and hoping for a much needed change. Donations are much appreciated!

Friday, March 23, 2018

Bubs Upcycle Project (U.P.)

(This is definitely a play on words that references one of my favorite Disney movies, as well as suite the motto for my RV trip, "Adventure is out there.")

In my efforts to downsize prior to moving into an RV... I wanted to do so in an environmentally friendly way.

I have 4 boxes addressed to different people with things I have been meaning to send and other things I think they would like.

I made a doggie bed out of clothes I don't wear, stuffed it full of shredded clothes and the stuffing from a pillow I cut up. (I feel like I have too many pillow I don't need, that are also very old...). I'm very happy she's got 3 dogs. This will help me a lot. The filling contains a lot of old clothes from my childhood that felt kind of therapeutic to cut up. It also ensured that I didn't try to retrieve them. It helps me know that my old clothes won't end up in a landfill if I happen to donate it and they don't take it.

I was looking up things to do with old jeans yesterday.

Today, I was thinking that I need a pencil case like this for my makeup brushes and eyeliners, etc:

But the problem with this is that it's a fixed size and ideally I'd want one to fit my whole make up arsenal.

So here's my idea of the day, make my own pencil/makeup holder with a pair of old jeans and the elastic I have in one of my drawers. (If you do not own elastic, I've noticed from the doggie bed, is that there's elastic in a handful of pants).

Because seriously who's going to sit there and count the number of slots they may potentially need?

Obviously, I can spent 0 time and about 5-10 bucks to buy something that is not 100% what I'm looking for/need, or I can make something that is tailored for my own personal needs.

I always wanted a holder that is organized in the order I do my makeup, brushes I use first, then the pencils, brow, eye, lip. In that order... brilliant...

I'm going to leave this post "undone" will add some pictures later.

Thursday, March 15, 2018

"I Contain Multitudes". Walt Whitman

This is the story about a girl: 

My first birth was a female named Eidi. (0-7)
She played well with the boys, but she played naughty with the girls. 

Eidi evolved into a piano playing Butterfly Goddess named Elise. (6-12)
But Elise was weak, fragile. She got beat, broken, and scarred 

Elise hardened into a Vampire: Lilith. (12-13)
Lilith was a rebel & a parasite but the mother of a succubus & an incubus: Joy & Eddie.

Joy is a pansexual, adolescent female succubus. 
She loves the color pink, bunnies, Barbies, Disney Princesses, teddy bears... anything super soft and furry really, bows, dress up & perfume, polka dots, Paris & art museums, cooking, Audrey Hepburn, rom-coms, flowers, vampires, Victorian style clothing, shoes, makeup, clothes, hats & dresses with big huge sunglasses, prefers one penis & boobs, lingerie, stockings, & sexy panties. Her Motto, "lady in the streets" & "always leave something to the imagination with another trick up the sleeve". Completely respects consent. Likes "daddy porn", and loves the idea of marriage. 

On her good days: she’s the daughter of Wonder Woman, currently on her path to being her own Wonder Woman. 
On her off days: she's like Harley Quinn. In her mind she makes sense, especially with the Joker by her side, because together, THEY make sense. But she sometimes, unknowingly, leaves a path of chaos & destruction. 

Eddie is a heterosexual, adolescent male incubus. 
Eddie loves car, airplanes, the Beatles, Power Rangers, Pokemon, Yugioh, motorcycles & leather, sports, guns, racing, scotch  lingerie on women, snapbacks, comic socks, Harry Potter, bridges... loves them, building things, women, boobs, lots and lots of boobs on beautiful women. He's kind of a pig and can't say no to beautiful women. He digs hanging out with chicks like Katharine Hepburn/the idea of women like her, wants to wife Audrey Hepburn/the idea of women like her, but truly, any Barbie Blonde with tits and a pretty face will do, add a brain and/or humor = WIFE... NOT! (He wishes he can commit but he just can't). He fully takes advantage of the fact that he is in a female's body & does not think receiving consent from men and sometimes women, is ever an issue. He likes "forced porn", and loves the idea of being free and never having to commit. 

On his good days: Eddie thinks he’s invincible like Superman. 
On his weak days, he feels mortal like Batman. 

Together they are slobs. They fight all the time because they like different things. They love threesomes (MFF/BGG), highly intelligent & creative but lack the tact for "superior" people skills... trapped inside an Asian woman. 

Joy transformed into a unicorn: magical, mystical rare but Caged. (20-21)
Eddie comes out after Joy is free because he is a gentleman. He let's Joy get dick first, then he seeps out because he needs women. 

This cage was named Bubbles. (21+)
Bubbles likes to keep ALL in line with abuse: verbal, psychological & physical when possible. 

Joy & Eddie sneak out when Bubbles gets drunk. But they always paid the price when Bubbles woke up. 
Perversion bursted the Bubble that kept Joy & Eddie locked, trapped & protected. 

That's when Bubbles became simply Bubs… 
But Bubs lacked the rainbow glimmer that Bubbles had. Bubs was a feeble shell. She couldn't keep it together. Until one day, she received a hint of guidance from a messenger: the Raven. 

The Raven came to Bubs with a broken wing. (30+)
The Raven gave Bubs a Message: a message to look past Bubs, the membrane created to protect Joy & Eddie, go back to find the common ground, to look before that, and ask the inner most private hidden part of the Heart, what It wants

Bubs pondered over the wisdom she learned from the Raven. 
The Raven flew away when it's broken wing healed. 

Bubs went to her safe place. She created a barricade to shield her from the world as she developed, and strengthened the walls of her cocoon. 
Inside that cocoon, Bubs felt secure enough to become inactive and let Joy & Eddie out to play. 

Joy & Eddie has their own artistic differences they needed to fight out. 
They had to remember the sexual, perverse, rebellious and deviant nature of their birth: Lilith. 

Lilith had to remember that before being a vampire she was actually a fucking Butterfly Goddess. 
So when the cocoon broke open, it wasn't Elise who broke out, nor Eidi. 

Out flew an artist, a hippie, dreamer, wanderer, creator, gypsy princess, a tomboy, pervert and naive child at heart. 


We are not lost dear Spectator, we are just trying to Human with all the rebirths… 
Because what You see, Her... She walks with all the spirits of Her reincarnations within the same mortal lifespan. 

Be patient my Loves, We are on Our way. 

Sunday, February 11, 2018

Family... and I'm sure it will get to Love again:

My mom left China when I was 2, she left me to be shared on a month-to-month basis between my dad and my maternal grandparents.

I don't remember my time at my dad's, I've been told I cried before going there but I don't know if my memories are my imagination of a story or actual memories of an experience.

So the story goes, he either came to pick me up or to drop me off, I'm assuming pick me up because I was told I didn't want to go, and he raised his hand to hit me as my grandma stopped him and she smelled alcohol on his breath.

The following day he dropped all my stuff off, minus a vest he bought me. This is my grandma's version.

I then spent my time with my grandma and grandpa. They were like light and day. My grandma always talked trash about her family, while my grandpa would do anything for his. Both of them had really shitty siblings, so it was an interesting thing to observe.

My grandpa, taught me how to love. His ways were his own. He would put jasmine flowers by my pillow so I could wake up to the smell of those flowers.

He would hoard my favorite food for me, and sometimes he bought me inexpensive trinkets that reminded him of me. It was never about the gift, it was his way of showing he was thinking of me.

The way he looked at me, it never changed, even after I did something bad.

He was so frugal with himself. He cared about the planet by recycling water. He had a bucket in the sink he would wash his hands with and use the water to pour into the toilet instead of flushing. He would use napkins as toilet paper. But he was endlessly generous with his family. The one time I ask him for money to buy my mom a purse she wanted, his response, "how much?". He didn't even ask what I wanted to buy.

He way he would always make my favorite foods, he loved me with every meal he made me. He did the same for my grandma too.

But they fought like crazy. My grandma played herself to be the victim, but as I got older I realized it was all her. It's so sad the crap my grandma fed him the years prior to his death. She was so controlling she wouldn't let him have anything. I will never forgive her for how she treated him when he couldn't take care of himself. She failed. He spent his whole life taking care of her and she ended up treating him like crap, like a burden. I hope she dies alone for that.

My grandma was was abusive, verbally, emotionally, and physically.

My grandma told me I looked like a whore when I was 9yrs old over a fucking pair of clip on earrings.

I few years ago, I was filming a video under a waterfall and all of the sudden it brought back memories of my grandma and I. We didn't have hot running water growing up. Showers had to be taken cold, with boiled water or at a public bath house.

At the public bathhouse is where I remember looking at a teenage girl and thinking to myself, "I love her boobs." I can't wait to get older and grow boobs.

I also remember my grandma washing my hair, she would pull me so close to her stomach I couldn't breathe and I just hated going to the shower house with her because I didn't want her to wash my hair. Till this day, I have a very unstable relationship with water. Rain, showers, baths, pools, beaches. I like dancing in the rain, singing in the shower, soaking in the bath, swimming in the pool, laying at the beach. But other times I cry when it rains. I'm afraid to take showers/bathe, and I refuse to go in the pool/beach.

I still wonder if it was intentional because it was the only place she could hurt me without my grandpa trying to protect me.

She had this broom stick in her closet that she used to beat me with, and it got to the point where just her walking to the closet, I would run to the bathroom and hide.

The day I went home after my grandpa passed, that's the first place I ran to so I could break down and cry. I guess that was were I felt safe.

My grandma once told me she had a miscarriage before my mom, and my mom had an abortion before me. She constantly wonders what would happen if she never had the miscarriage, or my mom never had an abortion.

My mom: My mom is a scientist and does not understand my creative side. She too was abusive.

There were times she would say, "I'm too tired to hit you, hit yourself." and I would.

My mom made me hit myself. It's difficult to admit that.

I didn't do it very hard because that's stupid but that's a low thing to do to a kid who is 9 or 10 years old. I try to block this out but I sometimes wonder if that's why I tolerate maybe even like abuse from non-family because I was told that it was love.

"Hitting is affection, scolding is love." That is the translation of a very well known Chinese saying used by my grandma and mom.

Other times she would just ignore my presence for days, weeks or months at a time. She would feed me and take me to school but she wouldn't speak or even look at me. She made me feel like a burden.

In my darkest hours, I needed my mom to tell me everything will be ok and she said, "I can't because I don't know." I realized she's not capable of comfort, nor unconditional love.

Last March, she expressed a desire to kill herself, which considering her response to other people's threat, is "just do it". It was really sickening to hear her voice in my head saying "just do it" as a response to her own threat. How vile.

I'm still sick every time I hear her threat, then her own voice in my head say "just do it" because that's what she said in regards to suicide threats prior when they were not coming out of her mouth.

(My mom's friend's daughter, who is younger than me died from suicide. I promised my mom I would never do that to her.)

It put me in this funk like "Fuck, she doesn't respect me enough to stay alive, what's the point of me living now." The promise I made my mom, kept me from exploring those dark corners of my mind.

But hearing her not care about me. I said fuck it.

Based on a hand written journal entry in July, I lost my motivation.

I lost my drive. I started to ask myself, "What is the point to living". "What drives people to get up and want to keep living?", "Why are there not death clinics where people can just say, "Ok, peace. *deuces*". "We did not choose to live, so why can't we choose to die?".

This didn't mean that I too was contemplating the action of killing myself. Though, I admit there were times, I had to actively fight my thoughts to keep myself from going there.

I was trying to question the meaning of our existence. "What makes us fundamentally want to survive?" I mean there's so many people on this Earth, "Why are we all trying to keep living?".

My mom reached out and asked me to visit in October. This time she told me she wished I was never born, how we no longer have to see each other, and make sure I get everything. Again calling me a selfish little bitch but I couldn't help but point out to her, that's how I was raised I was an only child She said I was just like my grandma and again I was like, "uh my grandma raised me". She compared me to my cousins, and I had to point out, "they had different parents, and they had each other." I was done.

My uncle didn't feel the need to read any of my text messages regarding his sister because he empathizes with my mom and not me.

Without the fear of my family's judgement. I was starting to feel a sense of freedom, like a huge burden off of me. The pressure of living up to their standards as an only child. My fear of shaming my family is what kept me from embracing my choice of job/living. Not having that family to worry about made me feel fearless. Like I had nothing to lose.

I started to consider what I want out of my own life now that they are not in it. Like, "What do you want for yourself.". Knowing I don't have my family to fall back on financially, I started to consider all the different ways to make money. It was from dancing that I realized I never learned to say, "no".

I decided to chase furiously after my dreams because my family were the ones that kept me grounded/realistic/pessimistic. In reality, life is a mix of everything. We need them to keep grounded, to be optimistic, while realistic. It is the impossible: what we ask of our parents, seriously. 

I know I'm an adult when I see my parent's flaws, and I no longer idolize her as my Wonder Woman. I just see her as weak for not being able to pick herself up. I see her as cold for not being able to love the way I want her to love. I see her as fragile and unstable, and because of that, she terrifies me.

I started having this desire to love, I wanted to love unconditionally the way my mom was not capable of. For the first time in my life, I truly wanted to have kids of my own. Not just adopt or give my eggs to others, or hire a surrogate but actually birth them myself.

I keep thinking what if I have a kid and she repeats the words my grandma said to me. My grandma has threatened suicide and told me she wished my mom and I were never born. My mom is saying the same thing. My fear of becoming like them, I simultaneously pushed away those that I already care about because I was afraid they would leave me too. Oh the irony right?

In this last year, I didn't just lose my mom, I lost my idol and pushed away my friends.

  • I want to actively live in the moment, be in the present, focus, aware of my surroundings, thoughts, and actions. 
  • I want to keep my goals in sight so that I am always striving towards them. 
  • I want to open myself to love by trying to consider another person's perspective, and when in doubt, to ask instead of assume that I know how they feel because I probably don't. 
  • I want to strengthen the relationships I have in my life, and share my victories with people who support them.  

I looked at this post, and I'm saddened by how evident it is that my brain remembers the bad more than the good. But I am trying desperately to retrain my brain, as well as keep the memories of my grandpa alive, to reach out and love like he did.