Ramblings from writers block

If it wasn’t obvious, I’ve had horrible writers block. I put my fingers to the keys and nothing happens. As painful as trying to pull a splinter embedded in your finger, you cant see it and have no clue how to remove it. If you’ve had a conversation with me at any point, you know that I am FULL of words with endless topics and even with that ability…I am stuck.

I wanna try something. Just Write without a purpose. This is going to be LONG so take a bathroom break and grab coffee. If you prefer to believe my life is perfect and full of glittery rainbows, please skip this post.

Hobby world has been interesting. If there is anything I hate more than being a sex worker in December is being a sex worker during Tax season. I am not the kind of girl that is gonna message you when I’m trying to get your wallet but I will message you to say “hi” and “I miss your dick”. My Doms are the only ones that I will reach out to and say “I NEED to see you” but its not for financial reasons. That is when I need to feel grounded, appreciated and loved.

Lets touch more on that. I feel guys are intimidated when I talk about my Doms, I cant blame them. I put them above everyone else and give special attention. They give me so much more than what can or should be given in the hobby-verse. They each do specific things that honestly no one else has and I love every moment. This does not mean that I don’t enjoy other men because I do. I enjoy meeting new people and look forward to new connections. You shouldn’t be intimidated by these men that I love, just know that they are amazing.

I give what is put in. I am NOT your normal experience. Normally in this hobby, its a simple transaction with zero emotion. You get screened, schedule, visit and leave. I CANNOT do that. I enjoy making connections, even if they are only for an hour. A large majority of us do this because we crave that attention and affection, me included.

Being a sex worker has its disadvantages like any other job. Being lonely and isolated is the big one. I sleep alone and while I enjoy that, it does get lonely. If I get lunch alone, chances are you will find me eating in my car somewhere. Me cultivating more personal relationships is what saves me. Having my Doms is the closest I will get to a normal relationship. It makes all the difference. If im having a really bad day (I wont say it) I cant even bare to get out of bed, I can read the letters they have written me and reach out. I know it sounds super sad but I promise that’s a good thing. I have sunk into depressions and become useless for an entire week and I am so glad that I have them because that has not happened in a long time.

Sometimes I wish I didn’t care so much, that I could be one of those high volume girls that never has money problems. However those girls work 24/7, they typically don’t have kids or not involved in their lives, hyped up on whatever drug keeps them awake and that is not me. I put so much effort into one multi hour visit that I am too tired for another. Honestly 2 a day is my personal max.

I do beat myself up a lot about not being financially motivated enough to be the girl driving a new JEEP or live in a house that’s too big for me but I cannot bring myself to be high volume no matter how much I want it.

I love driving my old car even though she is about to die LOL That car was the first thing I truly bought for myself and was mine completely. Hail damage, dents, no heat, fantastic ac and a few check engine light but it is mine. Last year I made the decision to get a NEW car but then realized to afford that and the insurance that I would need to take 4 extra appts a month. Why does my brain think that is so hard? I think I am more scared of missing a payment during slow hobby months and end up with nothing but debt. If it was not obvious I am a huge Dave Ramsey fan and of staying out of debt. I have managed to get into my mid 30s without accumulating debt and while I am happy, I do yearn for nicer things at times. I count my blessings. No debt besides $400 on credit cards, I have my kids, my dog, I got a scholarship, own my car and manage to run a household while being mom and dad. All the reasons I do not complain at the end of the day while I take the trash out and walk the dog.

Sometimes when I get really nice hotel rooms, its to complete my fantasy of escaping my own life. I love the privacy of my bedroom but despise pulling up to my apartment. Its an small brick complex accompanied with thin wall and nosey neighbors. I love hearing my smoker redneck neighbors talk super loud in the morning while hacking up a lung. I have gone out there before as she really sounded like she was dying. Can you imagine how super sexy it would be if your grinding your cock into me and then hear the hacking. You will also hear her yelling at her husband that I don’t know but apparently his name is Brandon.

The hotel room is apart of the fantasy for me. I’m away from my life and the things I don’t like about it. I can leave all the things that stress me out and pretend for just a little while that I got the life I wanted. I have grown to appreciate what I do have but know there is better out there. I do love my life but its far from the one I had planned for me. This is why I cannot be simple and do motel 6. Like you, I am willing to pay for that illusion.

I realize this ramble is confusing. Mixed Emotions run high while I type. Not in a negative way, just unloading whatever is clogging my brain. Although what I really want to scream about is the one thing that is too hard to talk about…..June 15th 2021. Its something that I think about at least 3 times a day, the thing that makes me want to stay in my room and occasionally still gives me paralyzing nightmares. I still go to a crisis counselor 7 months later as if it just happened the day before. I still pause to look at that apartment everytime I walk down my stairs. You would think moving would be the answer but its not for more than a few reasons. That threat is no longer there but the memory is somehow worse. I wanted to do the suspenseful post but it is such a boner killer and I want no pity. I just want to be able to move on and im 99% sure that this is the problem.

Side note, I never had any anxiety issues until that event.

Since this year has started I have been in a stupid funk. I cant seem to write, I lack motivation but feel loved. Broken like a shelter dog that just wants to be pet. Goes back to my Doms, they help in more ways than most people could comprehend and without them, I would be doing this alone.

Something I would like to do is find an artist for a medusa tattoo that will be the lower half of my left sleeve.

According to Greek mythology, Medusa was once a beautiful young woman with men lusting after her.

Her beauty caught the attention of sea god Poseidon, who raped her in the sacred temple of Athena.

Furious at the violation of her temple, Athena turned Medusa into a snake-headed monster with the ability to turn anyone who looks at her to stone.

Tattoos are beyond healing and serve as daily reminders. I don’t want to remember the event but I do want to remember that I kept living. I wouldn’t really call what I’m doing “living” but I’m content.

This was not meant for sadness. I know its been obvious that I have not been myself and since I have always been honest with my readers, I wanted to share my current thoughts. Even though they were not sexy.

I have no other reasons to be sad. My amazon Wishlist has been like Christmas, my people have been so supportive and I have been really loving the time with my kids. Im really hoping to be back to myself soon. I miss you guys!

Lady Anastasia Black

AKA Kinky Cosplay Kitten



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