Today, Russ joined me at my table while he was working his breakfast shift. He began shaking his head in disapproval, saying he wanted to strangle me after yesterday’s conversation having gotten nowhere. I smiled at his frustration.
“I can’t even say anything mean to you because it just has the opposite effect on you,” he said.
I walked to the back to get my morning coffee and he stood next to me. I said, “It’s funny because the rumor is better than the actual experience.”
He goes, “Yeah, for you!”
“On the other hand,” I continued, “I’m not sure why you guys are even getting upset if the rumors are fake. The fact you’re getting that defensive about it only makes it that much more true to people.”
He agreed and said, “I’m not really upset, I just want to fuck you is all.” Then he joined me at my table again and asked, “How do you feel about hearing rumors about yourself? I would like to get your take.”
I smiled and said, “Oh, I don’t care. They’re just words and I know that the things people say about me can’t really affect me like that. Also, I think it’s fun to ruin my reputation. I think it’s good for everyone involved because it teaches you not to take your ego so seriously.”
He loved it and said how cool he found me to be. “You know, I actually stick up for you when people are talking shit about you,” he said.
I laughed and said, “Awe that’s sweet of you, but you really don’t have to do that. I don’t care that much.”
“Well, most of the guys are ganging up together and calling you a hoe,” he said.
I started laughing and said, “Oh, that’s not even bad.”
I’ve heard a lot worse like “dirty cunt whore,” and that one I asked to be spread throughout the entire AT.
I suggested for him to not put so much weight on just a sexual act, it really didn’t have to be such a big deal. As a side note, I do think it is wild that women like me are glorified in today’s society. There’s nothing special about wanting dick from multiple men and knowing a few tricks in the bedroom. It’s silly to think there’s any depth in just that act alone. Anytime I sense that someone is growing obsessed with me, putting me on a pedestal or glorifying me, I like to immediately break that image for both them and I—hence, why I love rumors.
After putting in my two cents in with Russ, I lastly expressed to him that it was better if he just owned it.
“In my opinion,” I said, “if your goal is to fuck other girls, you would have a better chance getting laid if you were just truthful about what happened rather than being all sneaky.”
He started laughing and said, “That’s not how it works with women. You are just a different breed.”
Could be.
So then, we put the conversation aside. He began to secretly touch me under the table. Suddenly, Axle walked into the dining room and most definitely saw because his eyes darted straight to where his hands were. It was very awkward, and we definitely did not play it off good. I blushed and laughed while Russ put his elbows on the table then his head in his hands.
I went to work. Later, Kaden came down to tell me that if I really wanted this ‘thing we had’ to continue to be ‘a thing,’ that I needed to learn to keep my mouth shut. I looked at him in a way that said, “I don’t want it that bad…”
All fun and games aside, my freedom to do and say what I apparently wanted to was top priority for me.
“I can’t control what others say,” I said, now feeling an energy of annoyance that the intervention continued.
“Yeah, but you can control what comes out of your mouth,” he argued.
In truth, no one had control over what they apparently did/said, but I don’t think he was open to hearing that one so I kept my mouth shut.
“Did you suck my dick?” he asked, making me practice my line.
“No,” I said for fun in a submissive tone.
Before he left through the door, he asked, “Who is your final boss?”
What does that even mean? I still don’t know.
I noticed something changed in me quite rapidly this year. It seems I am finding it harder to take the act of seduction/flirting seriously. My need for dick has only gotten stronger, yet the same amount of humor/lightness has come out of it, too. I have become more straightforward and would rather cut to the chase of my end goal. I still find myself pulling flirtatious lines and dancing in waves of energetic sexuality, playing different characters and roles, but it is genuinely becoming humorous to me. When I become more aware of the game, the funnier it seems to get, therefore it’s hard to even take the role of being a seductress seriously. I’ve been developing a more ‘just say it as it is’ and ‘have fun with however it goes’ mentality.
Although I can’t have Zane, at least I get to look at him when he walks around my area. He works in maintenance so I see quite a bit of him. I seem to really want him, but I know he is only fuckable to me because he reminds me so much of V. He’s definitely one of those hidden gems. He doesn’t look the part, but I could tell he’s gifted. He’s the intuitive kine, the type that would know how to read a woman—and not just in the bedroom.
He walked past me as I was folding laundry. I hope he looks at my ass when he’s not supposed to. I fantasized about him doing all sorts of dirty things to me, smiling as I was in my own world. My legs were slightly spread apart and I was getting off on my own scent. Several seconds later, I was startled by someone’s hand gripping my neck tightly. I moaned as I pushed my ass into whoever it was. I was picturing it being Zane as I had been so lost in sexual fantasy that I wasn’t seeing images in front of me clearly. My fantasies were so intense that it often felt like an acid trip. Images in front of me would morph and change into whatever scene was occurring in my mind. The unknown man’s hand slid over my pussy. My eyes closed, I leaned my head back onto his shoulder. I turned around and opened my eyes. Oh, it’s just Russ.
Lunch break came and I thought I would go over to Axle’s. He opened the door and the energy felt extremely off. I could immediately feel I was unwelcome and that he didn’t want me there. I could sense it strongly. The rumors must’ve gotten back to him, then him catching me getting felt up under the table must’ve just topped it. There was an intensity, as if he just wanted to be alone. After all my years of hitchhiking, I grew to be an expert at picking up on people’s micro expressions split seconds before they put on a friendly face. Although he invited me in, I stayed no more than a couple of minutes. I went to my room to decompress.
I feel really sad today, like I don’t know my place in the world. I have this weird mix in my perception. I will feel as if people are so drawn and attracted to my energy, but will simultaneously feel those same people loathe me. Then I make myself feel shitty in thought if I don’t catch it fast enough. It is the same cycle everywhere I go. I’m trying to be gentle on myself, but some days I find it’s really hard.
Today, I was drawn to a line in a book that I read:
Women dominate and control because they fear their vulnerability.
Gosh, I love that! I can see how that plays out in my day-to-day experience. I have so much on my heart. I experience so many emotions, such a deep longing to be loved. I yearn for my needs to be seen and for my darkness to be held tenderly. I long to be adored and met beyond the appearance of my body, yet I disguise the depth of my soul by playing the cool, sexual girl. It is a defense mechanism, as if telling people, “I’ll only give you this much.” I never bought into the belief that the body was something sacred, so giving my body to random men never seemed like a big deal to me. Giving my heart, however, my vulnerable expression of emotions—now that was rare and wasn’t easily given. It was the hardest thing to get out of me and the most difficult thing to crack open once misused or taken for granted.
It’s the end of my work shift. I often catch Yanira staring at me quite a bit. A moment ago, I caught her again. Her eyes were in appreciation of my presence, as if trying to understand me.
“Freyja, you are so interesting,” she says, “I have never met another like you. You are so… hm, how can I say. Ah, different.”
I laughed out loud at how cute her accent was.
“I don’t mean in bad way!”
“I know you don’t,” I said with a smile of appreciation right back at her.
After work, a group of us went square dancing at the community center again. One of the girls, Wildflower, tagged along. She dressed up for the theme, wearing a pretty dress, burgundy lipstick and a cowboy hat. All of the locals at the community center were so kind. It’s funny to hear how many of them started working at the lodge and ended up staying, one of which started working there in 1983 and has been a local since! The dancing was fun—I especially liked that there was no pressure to stay with your original partner. We would swing and twirl into various partners, comforted by various hands and smiles. Fleeting bits of community and partnership seemed to work well with my mind.
A few hours have gone by. We made it back to Brown Town and I went on a solo walk to meditate on ACIM. I made it halfway around the loop, sitting down where I had given Kaden a quick blowjob. I feel so different now than I did then. Earlier, when we were making our way out to the dance, Russ hopped in at the last second. During the car ride I gained clarity on how little we had in common—almost nothing. He was making comments about hating hippies after having gone on a walk with his friend in the forest.
“He was stopping every other second to stare at some trees and touch bark!” he said. “Weird ass shit.”
“That’s me,” I said, proud to have always been so drawn to the energies/spirits of the forest.
“Me, too,” Wildflower joined. “I love looking for mushies!”
I felt embarrassed for having even hooked up with him. I guess that’s why it’s easy for me to be on the road/trail because it’s unlikely I’d be seeing the same people and I wouldn’t really have to deal with these thoughts. I felt disappointed in myself for giving him that part of me, knowing I would never actually give him any real part of my mind or even a sliver of my heart.
Right now, as I sit and look at the swamp, I think about the CDT.
Squinting my eyes, I think, Maybe if I blur the vision around me, I can feel like I’m actually in a remote place, far away from civilization. Far away from my species.
I feel like the Hayduke is just what I need to really get lost and be away from everyone and everything. I just want to run and run and run. The shimmering desert scape sounds healing. It’s been a while since I traversed that rocky terrain for a long distance. I stare at the yellow buds in the water that are in the beginning stages of blossoming. Their petals are still tightly closed, but soon will transform into open, luscious and angelic works of art.
Will I blossom, too?