THE PRESSING TEXT

AIRPORT STORY

There was this girl, she was traveling for work and she had to change planes in some airport you know like Paris, or Amsterdam or maybe Brussels, Burundi, I don't remember.

Anyways there in this airport she met this friend of hers… Well to say friend doesn't really do the relationship justice, they were very close… Ok, let's just say that the love that existed between these two people didn't fit neatly under any kind of conventional title of relationship, like “homies”, “bae”, “lovers”, “wifey”, “poopie schnoops”, “baby cakes” yeah and of course “friends with benefits” just sounds cheap in comparison to what they had. 

Anyways, the point is they were very excited when they met, by chance, in this random airport somewhere on earth. They were so excited that everything around them just sort of fell away. But that’s how it was when they were together. Everything here got really crisp and delicious, and everything outside of here just faded, like some vortex of strange magic would engulf them, except… Sometimes this vortex would roll outwards, and that's what happened there in the airport. And the next thing the girls knew there was a marching band, marching into the terminal from all entrances, and they were wearing these deep purple, satin, sequined leotards with matching thigh high marching boots, and they had a choir with them, and the choir was wearing the same thing except the choir also had these extravagant headdresses with these huge, two meter tall purple plumes of feathers on top. 

And there were horses, big black stallions ridden by this army of women who all looked like Angela Bassett in jean cutoffs and gold lame bikini tops, and they all had these huge golden swords strapped to their backs. 

And the girls dumb-founded with wonder just held onto each other tightly. And that’s when the marching band and choir started in with a rendition of some... Rihanna song. And the Angela Bassett ladies began galloping through the terminal in strict formation, pulling out their huge golden swords, swiftly slaying the tourists from distant lands, their bloody bodies exploding into fires, and their ashes raining down this heady mix of dark belgian chocolate, 24kt. gold and jewels, mostly diamonds. And the girls, covered in chocolate and jewels just embraced and kissed each other deeply knowing that it had happened once again, this thing that… And that’s when one of the Angelas rode by and snatched the girls up and threw them onto the back of her horse and they rode off into the…. well they rode off into the terminal and caught their flights to wherever they were going. Or? Or? Orifice…

CUNT MONOLOGUE

hi, hi, (clear throat)

Maybe you weren’t expecting me? In all fairness I don’t actually make so many public appearances.. and if I do, if I am seen, well there is usually some scandal involved, and I never get to make a statement in my defense. 

Don’t ask me why, somebody is making the rules and it ain't me. 

The funny thing is, well just look around you… You, and you, and you and everyone you see here, and everyone you know, and everyone you don't know, everyone you’ve ever heard of, loved or you admire, yes everyone, came from me. 

And people pray to god… Crazy right? 

Anyways

I was wondering if I would say something today… What would I say? 

Do you know that feeling when so much time has passed, and in all that time you thought a million times about what you would do or say and when you finally get the chance you just clam up (laugh)? Sorry. Or instead of doing what you prepared you end up just doing creepy stuff with your hands, or you just freeze, like a stone because in that moment all you can do is throb with all that time and emotion and you feel it all welling up and you just crumble a little under the weight of it all… You know that feeling? 

Maybe I wouldn’t say anything. Maybe I would just blubber about with the joy of my freedom, the fresh air, the friendly attention. Maybe I would total freak the fuck out and scream obscenities, act like a real fucking cunt, you know! 

Maybe I wouldn’t use verbal articulations at all, but rather sound out my sentiment with prehistoric frequencies. 

Anyways here I am, I got all iced out for you.  Bling bling honey bunny, to sparkle is my natural state. The gleam of potential life, always on my lips, the hot silver of desire and primordial dreams shining through. Always here, now, ancient and becoming rolled into one technicolor dream taco.. Yeah.. 

Sometimes I tell myself that I'm always kept under lock and key because I'm like some sacred relic, but I'm no relic, I'm juicy, literally full of life. And this obsession with controlling me, with telling me what I can and can not do… well… I'm a little tired of that to be honest. Like really tired. I am uncanny, a bit extra.. I can accept that. I get it, I drive most of you crazy. But maybe… maybe there's a way you could all just be comfortable with me, with all my strange and delicious creative magic, my intoxicating excitement, all my dark and quiet mystery. What would it mean to humanity if you were just cool with me? Who would we be? What would this world be? I mean let's face it, you need me.

DOMINATRIX

On one of the warmer days, the late afternoon turned into a storm… a girl sat in her window and stared at the sudden downpour, the drain in the courtyard was overflowing, she thought it was beautiful, this fast clear gel over everything. She was still on crutches from her recent knee surgery. She planned to sit at cafe terrace but due to the rain her plan was thwarted. So instead, she managed to put on the crystal encrusted, complicated lingerie she bought online. She sent a photo to a friend, who replied, “angels must be crying black diamonds”.

That’s when she decided to have her first dominatrix experience. 

You see she was crippled and couldn’t clean the house... and she really did like a clean house. 

Anyways, she had always swiped left on submissive profiles.. but there she was on crutches, and the flat was filthy. The pretty Brittish airbnb guest had a small siezure when she made the effort to warn him that she’d have a naked slave cleaning the house on his hands and knees. 

In his defense the girl had just woken him up with the news. He quickly regained his composure when she explained that it was a slave in the s+m kind of way, ”OH, well then alright..” and he went back to sleep. 

She told the slave to wear nothing but white gym socks and a gold chain. She wanted him to look as macho as possible. The vacuum cleaner was coincidentally broken so that one would literally have to clean on all 4’s. Her own little ritual for womankind, “get on your knees bitch”. 

He had a long ponytail and was really into humiliation which was a big challenge for the girl (the world is this shitty unfair place right, so she kinda made it her thing to be kind with everyone, she thought, “I can afford it”). 

The other challenge of being a dom is one has to be extremely precise, she told her sub in a text before he arrived that he wouldn’t be allowed to look her in the eyes. After she buzzed him in he would find her door on the 3rd floor open. He should enter and immediately take out the trash, come back, wash his hands, prepare and serve her tea, remove his clothes and go wait in the corner, facing the wall for further instructions. 

In the shadowy cool quiet after the summer storm she read the Bluets by Maggie Nelson, while he waited. 

blue blue blue…

The shiny wet leaves on the mature maple tree outside her window giggled at the perfectly still naked man in white gym socks.

Then her tinder ordered slave cleaned the fuck outta that flat all while the girl read and sipped tea, a thing she almost never managed to make time to do.

After the house was cleaned she sat on the edge of the bed while the slave kneeled at her feet. He cut her cuticles and painted her nails with the gold and black sparkly nail polish she found at a Walmart on an island far far away. 

But let's not get ahead of ourselves. 

You see she had to punish him because he scratched her thumb nail with the cuticle scissors. She told him to stare at her foot, each blood red and pussy pink fiber of the hand woven Moroccan carpet stood up straight bracing itself for what was to come. 

Oh the things made by women’s fingers. 

She slapped him across the face. 

He loved it. 

He left, and it rained again.

I AM

I am absurd

I am juicy

Jiggly

I am the closest friend, the 1st cousin, the sister, the daughter of water

A swirling infinity crashing up against the boundaries of this body

I am spilling over, and continuing on and on and on

A shape shifter

I am a whole mood

I am ridiculous

I am extra

I am an abyss

I'm a mess

I am quiet

I am loud

I am wet and wild

I am infinitely wise

I need my space

I am bloody

I am angry

I am self-sufficient

I am spirit

I give way to spirit

I am not always in the best of spirits

I take my pleasure in a chanel dressing room in a  20,000euro dress

I am incorrigible

I am brave

I am old

Very very old

I used to be on speaking terms with god

Luke, I am your mother

Uh no, no, Luke, I am your maker

I am..

The end 

I become the beginning

The stuff of legends

Scraped down to an anecdote

I am slippery

I am confusing

Complex

I am cunt

I will Fuck you up