My memoir, “The secret life as a prostitute”, as I stood there and saw the whole of myself; deciding if the cover should be abstract or real to life as it was told in the story of my life. Am I going to appear on any talk shows? It’s all conflict and drama that makes high ratings. I find it amusing that a show would even try to get me to appear.
I tried writing but somehow never find the time to pen the thought to paper. Now summer is going to change all that as a result of how I prostitute myself to do a memoir for a beloved buddy. Are there other options besides prostituting yourself? Doubts then don’t even dare think of it. Or just screw it. In such moment of extreme clarity or confusion, I just prostitute myself to know how much I’m still worth. Money is not the motivation for me to write though I wish it was. A friend hinted to me that I could hit the publishing lottery which could change my lifestyle. Yes, it’s true that money motivates us to do remarkable things; like harness our creative forces, the skills and the gifts we inherit, unless we are born with zero talent.
Unlike others with qualifying assets and social approvals; I was only equipped with wits and charms, everything I gain were through my collection of the survival of the fittest. Then my ego started to elevate when I get offers for my professional services and maybe some say it was my mouth, the gap that landed me such offers. Please don’t get me wrong, no social lubricants will allow me these passage way. They are my creative forces that pinned with the badge known as the international prostitute. Patience too rewarded me in a way and my track records have proven that I stayed on course long enough for the worthy offer to tempt me to move further and higher. I was elevated to the international prostitute status that makes me relent to the highest bidder as often said, “The highest bidder gets”. What’s wrong with being a whore, figuratively and with my professional services? For those who know me well enough should know that my stand as a professional whore has created lots of opportunities to travel and relocated to places that I have never been before. I love the fact that when someone offers me for my professional services, it sort of raise my ego, stretches the creative juices, and makes me wonder with fear that it will one day dry up like the drought in China.
I have resigned to the fact that money is everything. Now that I am going to do a memoir for a buddy makes me realize that I have the freedom to unveil the wrappings of the loin or maybe for better decency, the linen cloth to make an interesting story. History or his story and his live, the friendship, love, desires and dreams, I wonder would anyone care to read, the pages and pages about the person I know so well. It’s going to be one satisfying and pleasurable summer, all in good fun of course.