… and a bunch of other shit. (and FYI, Garageband is acting up again, so annoying I sound muffled, and I didn’t change any settings). I should make this dating in Toronto thing a series – it kinda already is, but I don’t want it to last too long.
As you know, when I cannot sleep, if I am in dating mode, I will hop on various apps, POF/Hinge, and check people out. After one of those nights, I woke up to this …
Obviously, something about your profile didn’t connect with me; and for good reason, in hindsight. I have yet to meet drug addicts, ex-cons or STDs on POF. If scammers include fake profiles from lonely or otherwise demented people, I’ve encountered lots of those, but I just send a request for them to selfie-verify, and they go away.
I had a brief convo with Nat, via text and voice messages. She said, “I was going to ask you what bed you’re crawling out of …” If I got that message from her, I would have laughed, then cried because my vagina is lonely. The only bed I’m crawling out of is my own, and there are no dicks in there. That’s why I considered going back to B1 – I don’t want to have sex with anyone new, and I am definitely not down for another five-year drought. My sex work clients aren’t fulfilling the personal side of my life like I thought they would. ugh!
My Latest Dating in Toronto Profile:
This Earth Girl is Sleazy
Sam the Desperate
All Men are welcome into the
Kingdom of my Heavenly Vagina
Me and Jesus had a pact, he is supposed to help me find my dream guy, but every time he comes over he just eats all my food, leaves a mess then disappears. Nothing is changing. Ugh, men! “Jesus Christ! Jesus! How about we just communicate by phone from now on?”
“But I love hanging out with you!” Then he stuffs a handful of trail mix into his trough. I cringe as the crumbs fall.
“Hanging out! Is that what you call it? You gonna clean up your mess this time!?”
He laughs like I made a joke and says, “Men don’t clean up after themselves. That’s why my Dad made your kind!”
“My kind!!!! You fuckin’ piece of …” He disappeared before I could finish, but I kept talking cause I know he can hear me. “… shit. No wonder they crucified you!”
🎶
I am weak but Thou art strong
Jesus keep me from all wrong
I’ll be satisfied as long
As I walk, let me walk close to Thee
Just a closer walk with Thee
Grant it, Jesus, is my plea
Daily walking close to Thee
Let it be, dear Lord, let it be
🎶
Yo! I ain’t walking nowhere with that nigga! He’s just gonna embarrass me.
So much for churchmen.
Self-Publishing Bug
Since I enrolled in the Kindle Select program for 90 days, I had to make a few of my posts private. If I don’t enroll in KS, then I can leave everything public, but I wanted to see if it would make a difference. I’m already thinking about what to make a book of next, and I think I will also need a pen name for any non-poetry or short story books I create.
I want a fancy name for my other random content books – I have no idea how to classify it, but we will cross that spine when we get to it. And also soon, I will be using my own photographs and illustrations in my books. 🙂 I’m so excited! I’m also thinking about writing a series of poems for a book – maybe a theme and a type. Not sure yet.
At this moment
The Good Friday Cult of Jesus Christ
I find myself wishing
Jesus got crucified more often
That way we’d have several Good Holiday Fridays
I have more to tell you, but I forgot … Oh! My coworker friend in Belarus found for me Alexander Pushkin’s poems with literal side-by-side translations. But I always feel like hearing poems in their original language would sound better – Same for the Divan of Hafiz.
I don’t know any Persian speakers – my personal trainer was, but his wife won’t appreciate me calling him up, “Hey! I know it’s been a while, but could we meet up? I’d like you to read me Hafiz’s poems.” He won’t appreciate it either; he’s not the poetry type.
Salām!
Fri Mar 29
Photo by Biel Morro on Unsplash
© 2024 Samantha Williams. All Rights Reserved.
