i’m that bitch:my life will be my revenge: dreams and sex

Life is good, really I can’t complain too too much, things are going a lot/little/just better than i thought but i want them Better Bettarer and better beta bettarest J

Right before i graduated, when i’m stressed out..its seems i get these dreams, something is chasing me dreams. Women who run with the wolves had a description of this..i need to go back and see what she says about the dark stranger or maybe its Bessie head and Gayle jones playing with my head (both have these haunting masculine characters that remind me of all the things that i love to hate in men and will often choose/gravitate to, which i need to continue to choose to walk AWAY from in all human beings, men women, trans, gender queer freaks alike )…..Don’t want such characteristics in anyone near me period. No excuses.

Davis in Eva’s man by Gayle Jones  reminds me so very much of Peter, fuck you like a whore peter, Peter the hustla.. , in some cases reminds me of all of my lovers in that weird i got you kind of way, i wonder what is it that makes possession so hot/sexy/irresistible to mE? I have a deep deep craving to be owned, used, possessed and utilized so thoroughly that when i think of it, i get moist, and fearful at the same time, most of my lovers have a clear way of owning me, either sexually, emotionally or someother way which is why i’ve been playing what i call S/M in my head and what others. My partners call freaky shit..good sex or she’ll let you do anything kind of play.

Its hard negotiating boundaries, my safety and keeping a scene in the bedroom, the backlash outside of a scene, besides my partners are not thinking of it as a SCENE persay instead they think of it as part of my personality and how i like to be treated in general which is FAR from the truth so i end up looking like a psycho unstable bitch who one minute likes to be flung around and the next is demanding that patriarchs get up and fucking pay their pussy bill or fucking do the god damned dishes…

I do get a little ‘testy’ cos i’m weary/hypersentitive to what a man who is uncritical of his position and power as a patriarch or in fact a self admitted, patriarch thinks when he’s “fucking you like a whore” you aint no longer like a ‘whore’…you don become akunna for im eye be dat….

I’m that bitch that swallows, i’m that bitch who takes it whenever however..all you got to do is bring it..one of my lovers called me EVERREADY. In one way i’m really proud of myself for crafting a sexuality that is truly queer no matter who the fuck i’m with, if i’m going to fuck you better be bending over backwards and forwards…i have to be excited and i’ve come to know what it takes, what it tastes like and what it feels like….

On the other hand i’m constantly afraid and expecting the punishment of a woman who is in control of her own sexuality and her body…I hope to get to a place where i stop wondering/fearing/worrying about all this shit which is all connected to do i ever want to be in a monogamous economically strategic arrangement EVER…for now i’ve decided the answer is NO. License to ‘mis’behave..YES.

 

Back to the scary masculine figure…Yesterday night i had a dream. It felt slightly lucid which worries me because i sort of belief in spirits and supernatural forces. So i’m in my bed, my room looks exactly the way it does as i fall asleep and a man appears in front of my door (when i picture my perfect man, physically speaking but nothing else speaking as in the perfect man that will fuck me up good, destroy my life kind of thing, an abusive motherfucker that i will either end up killing and going to jail or will have to do some drama to get away from). Maybe its from watching/witnessing my parents relationship but i have always assumed that i would always have one of those deadly but passionate up and down type relationships..at my mid twenties age, i’m happy to announce that i’m definitely getting over that whole desperate loving, hateful not really about loving another person/loving yourself type deal…i’m actually thinking/craving stability a slower, always burning interest and love and compatibility, in fact its a huge turn on.

But more importantantly i’m like i’m gotta plan to be happy and to be happy and secure being BY MYSELF. And even the act of dreaming/planning makes me super duper happ(ier)ish

So back to the dream..So he walks into the apartment, without getting up from lying down, i get up and go to the dootr to try and keep him out, he puts his hand in through the chain lock and unhinges the door and walks in..no fuss, no real struggle, hes very confident that he STRONGER than me and me struggle/resistance of anykind are a)expected, nothing surprises him and b)he is unthreatened..

He walks in, smug and says to me, i’m the man who has come to fuck you, with this wicked grin on his face, i say NO. I try to wake up and CAN’T. Usually if i want to wake up i can. And he moves to the living room, the kitchen to eat my food, he’s looking in the living room and i look with him and there are two boys less than 10, older than 5 and they’re sitting in front of a big screen tv watching tv..they’ve got their food in bowls in front of the tele, he says hello boys…I think Oh No not my sons, and i’m like SONS?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????

So i get up from the bed, grab me keys to luck the doors and my cell phone..my thoughts are: i’ll call 911 and if anything happens at least they’ll hear it all, secondly i’ll lock the door and stand outside the door so that i can keep an eye out for the boys, the whole time the man is undisturbed (I know he can hear my thoughts as i can hear his..i can hear him, going you can try but you’ll find out for yourself that there is no point in struggling with me, i’m not going to bother, you’ll see for yourself, i’m just going to make it easier for you to submit when your ready by acting like i’m being nice to the boys, you’ll see you’ll really like it) All this, this thoughts are slowing me down and i struggling to pick up mu coat, pick up my keys, my phone and make it from the room to the door without breaking into a run or causing my boys to panic.

I get to the door close the door, that was a struggle, i used my mind to hinge the doors so that the door would like bu then as i locked the door, the lock wouldn’t work..as in my key was not locking the door, i’d twist the key, it would lock and then i’d check and it would be open. To my HORROR. I kept trying and trying and trying to lock the door and i was in tears..then i held the door shut with my hand and all the while he was walking slowly to the door, i knew he was going to get to the door, open it and pull me back in, he was telling me too…So i started calling 911, 911 wasn’t working..my phone wouldn’t even work, it was fully charged too..911 wouldn’t dial…

Just as he got to the door, my friend called and i woke up.  

Not sure what to make off the dream, except that i will find a way to lock that door and stop him from coming in and i’m not leaving no motherfucker with my sons!!!!

Maybe it has something to do with my desire to uproots and lock out certain patriarchal manifestations of masculinity from my life and to make sure that this is not a legacy that i pass on to any offspring that i have…My life will be my revenge, not in a fucked, my children will be my revenge way… which sadly is way too common in the women that i know, this legacy…

i am a naija slut/whore/bitch aka “akunna”….AMEN

Themes: On deconstructing romantic love, sexual politics and heterosexual, monogamous marriage and the violence and oppression of my naija, igbo self.

Aight so since the ex hubby left its been about a month now and i been soooo fucking horny. I used to fuck random strangers on the street but that works best in the summer time and you gotta look fuckable..nothing extra but feel good and look good enough to fuck and move all sexy to get people interested.

So i been answering personal ads on the internet..fucked one guy but he way too much of a wimp, insecure and too well behaved for me. See i enjoy a good HARD long dick..truth be told. I like it when i aint got no fucking feelings for that dick and its just a dick..especially with naija men the more you abuse and insult as in tell them you’re fucking other people cos thier dick is too small or cos they don’t know how to use it then the more they try, (which is usually my plan of attack so that we are clear that i am not expecting some kind of commitment from them where they are to treat me and expect me to behave like a good little girl that expects to get married to them someday or is just wishing that they would like me enough to get married to them someday and therefore giving them the mutherfucking license to cheat on me and lie and be dishonest and cruel since just plain up telling them that i’m interested in polyamory or a queer relationship is too much honesty for most naija men and too much exposure for me that is SOOOO not worth it since it will mostly and in the past usually over their heads…SOO over thier heads that they don’t even even see, nonetheless , I still pay a price for thier ignorance and stupidity because my shaky foundations and confidence get trampled on and the really strong decades old naija hetero norms program in me gets a reinforcement when i am viciously trying to attack it right down to its core, i figure a good place to start in any relationship is just cos you stuck your dick in this particular pussy does not and will never mean that it becomes yours..as in your property) the more they treat you with respect? in front of you sha (just be ready cos they’ll diss you and talk about how they just fucked you this way and that cos they’re hoping you are conservative and care cos you’re looking for a good husband one day, and your reputation and prospects are fucked cos the world world knows you a pussy slut bitch) Simply understood and may be referred to as the annihilate any threatening(yes feel free to be satisfied based on the fact that you have been identified as a *threat*) and rebellious female specimens they MUST submit under the power of the almighty and omnipresent DICK aka phallus.

So if you are looking for that good man to marry beware if not then fuck away. Anyways i already paid my paid (see in the eyes of my ex hubby my worth was depreciated because of the fact that i was not the holier than thou good princess whore and even more so because because even on my best days i was not a good pretend one, i was also generally unwillingly at least act like one and was mostly in fact committed to not looking, dressing, presenting, sounding like one ) maybe thats why the mutherfucking ex hubby of mine thought it was worth it to drag me around the house, call me a slut and tell me that he i was lucky cos if he had known how much of a slut i was then he wouldn’t have fucked me, not even with two rubbers.

Needless to say i quickly pointed out that he was more of a slut than i would ever be in terms of the number of ppl he had fucked and the types of sexual scenarios he’d gotten into and the number of women he’d fucked in one day but wait YES: that period of fucking around “when you are young” is officially sanctioned by patriachy and really doesn’t count as a defamation of his character and morality..in fact it was a testament of his good upstanding character and morality and ethics that he had learnt from the error of his “stick a dick in anything that walks” days and was now careful as opposed to terrified of catching an STD/AIDS or worse getting one of those “his bitch whores” pregnant and forever ruining his fucking chances of finding that holy princess goodgirl. In fact, i was less of a SLUT, because i was never and i am committed to and really do go out of my way at my own expense, too often, waaaaaay too often at my own expense to be honest about my sexual behaviours and partners all for he sake of making sure that i do not buy into the fucking sexual conservatism and control over my body that makes the words slut, bitch, whore so fucking powerful, see i didn’t have to read for that life lesson i learnt it when after i got raped, like most igbo girls , my parents decided out of thier concern for my future prospects in a culture that regarded a womans pussys as part of her worth an an indicator of her character and virtue as future property of her husband (hence the obsession with how many fucking people you’ve been with because it’s not really how many people you as a woman have been with its how many people your husband has been with, how many people your husband has shared the pussy that he “paid” so much money for for free and how many dicks have diped into his property, they were and will forever be tresspassers to the hubby because that pussy, your pussy was always it, it was meant for him and is only for him, the more tresspassers, the more sexual experience or in my case the more unwilling you are even if it is only in theory as was with me and not in practise, i allowed him to see to that then you can expect rage, resentment from “denying” him, his right, his entitlement as a man, his full and unquestioned ownership and power over your pussy.) And until he has it, theoretically and otherwise he is not fully a man in your eyes…he will say/think that you cannot view him as a man until you had it over.

Needless to say women obsess over thier dick too, now i’m starting to get the whole and two become thing, but men have a patriachial naija social structure culture that expands thier manhood the more they spread it around. His friends, family and everyone else in between will openly or somehow support him, he will be doned with “player” status..he can conquer and own not just one pussy but 2, 3, 4, 5 and is therefore as strong as manly as virile as 1,2,3,4 MEN. See that there is my standpoint on being the “other woman” who i have been and am often invited to be, mostly because of my understood “depreciated value status” but to keep it REAL, i would consider the other woman status as long as i had my own freedom as in i still owned my pussy and I was KEPT, i mean KEPT, monthly allowance, rent/mortgage, etc but none of the men i know would sign up for that.

The one that has fucked but acts like a good girl, lets him dominate her sexually and in not sexually enthused not does she care for sex much beyond pleased the formidable dick of her naija lover/prince/king and the creator sanctioned act of procreation among man and wife. He will pledge his undying love for this woman based on the expectation and knowledge that no matter how many times he hits her/no matter how many he dips his marauding dick into the diseased honey pot of women who are nothing more that bitch whores who cannot control thier urges and keep thier legs together she will never stray from her one and only dick. She will always wait for her one and dick and she will accept her prodigal dick when it comes back to her.

We fought me and my igbo “good boy” exhubby EVERYDAY on shit like this. Even my couples counsellor said that she felt that we were two icons not two beings in a conversation because i refused to throw out and banish the voices in my head from too many books, from wanting something to change in the way that naija women allowed themselves to unneccessaryly be ruled/collude in thier own oppression, because i did not want to or rather was no longer interested in colluding to my own oppression…i was trying to work things out. I watched my mother, groan and grunt under patriachial oppression in a marriage, she stayed with a partner who was unfaithful to her and then beat her to pieces *literally* based on accusations of infidelity and too much “iwaanya” basically she was shining her eye too much, she was not submissive enough.

My counsellor, a woman betrayed me saying that i was too much of a feminist and that ex hubby should leave me couching it in words like i never talked about my feelings (which i did..but i was looked to for all the fucking analysis while my intelligent good husband-because he allowed me to drag him to couples counselling for no apparent reason other than slight emotional, physical abuse that was reduced to “incidents”, which till today have allowed him to continue to minimize the severity of his action and to attempt to convince me that somehow i am exaggerating bu thank god..i saw my mother live through what she did and endure what she did and fight for her space and freedom much later on..tooo much later on but at least she put on a fight and if she could then by fucking christ i CAN TOO. )…i’m like feelings. why not ask him how he feels that he can say such demeaning, dehumanizing, mean spirited and cruel tings to someone that he SAYS he loves. Just so that he can control her? Which mouth are you going to come and kiss the person, tell the person you love them?

and people say that i carry things for too long that i am not forgiving. I spoke to his mother, he called her trying to appease me and trying to get me to stay so that he can get his fucking papers for free. His mother said that papers aside, her son loves me, that it is not too bad, that i should forgive him, that he will NEVER do it again. I felt soo sad, i thought wow, so now i get to look like the unforgiving akata bitch that is trying to ruin her son’s life just because of a little incident, the insolent akata that has no regard for the words of her elders who know best. It broke my heart, i wanted, i need an alliance with this woman, she is the matriach her son NEVER makes a move without her overall approval even though he doesn’t know it. I tried to explain that there wasn’t one incident, ther wasn’t two, three or four and as ashamed as i am to tell..it’s true. There was a whole climate of fear, of intimidation, of emotional blackmails and attacks to my consciousness..its like a virus, it was everywhere. I wanted to tell her that it was even in this call, i did not consent to the call, i did not agree to speak to her, i did not even have time to prepare both he wanted to call and hedid and me out of my own fear and desire to please reacted according..another button pushed…

It’s not that i am not forgiving, i am bitter, because the impact and the implication of those words ALONE are not gone. I’m still feeling them. IT hurt. I’m human not some feminist statue that needs to be knocked down at all costs. Above all that i was his wife.

In the end i think i idealized hetero, monogamous marriage more than he EVER did because to me he should have treated me like his queen, like someone he loved and cherished not someone he would readily and easily harm (but isn’t that the very design of hetero marriage to subjugate a woman, keep her always on her knees, ISn’t that what i knowingly and willfully signed up for? I guess that’s the utility of the myth of romantic love, love was to cover and shield me and allow me to stay in denial…when all else fails tell a woman that you love her that she is the ONE. And me, a romantic fool for *LOVE*, i have not given any serious thought to how beneficial it is to the perpetuation of violence in he lives of woman helping me to believe in a false solidarity that is really only sided, a solidarity with patriachial hetro monogamy + marriage all so that i can decieve myself into thinking that i had ownership of my very own dick that was really just on a temporary to possibly permanent lease depending on my performance in adherence to strict terms and conditions), I’ve always wanted my very own dick, my knight in shining armour, my igbo okonkwo..still working of disarming that virus!

but his willingness and easy readiness to do me harm and stop at no lengths simply to control me or acquire my obedience….should have been a clear sign of where his heart was..maybe she was right after all it would have helped if i was to have just talked about my feelings instead of using politics to analyze everything..but it was from politics that gave me the insights to think what i did and feel the way hat i did. anyways if you’re going to counseling, marriage counselling MAKE SURE your counsellor has a feminist standpoint/praxis.

I am learning not to willingly, subject myself to oppression, to aquiesece to it, to submit to it and least not without a fight and on my good days i think that it is simply worth doing..for my own sanity for my own peace, peace of mind.

I think about my ex hubby and how sometimes i feel like i have lost soo much i feel like i will never know..i think that he was offering me a kind of exchange oppression but really what it was was just space more space for him to experience things and be supported without oppression to realize his full sexual self to explore things that gender bending, cross dressing and BDSM meanwhile i was stuck in some kind of flasback of marriage where i was rotting, i was decaying i was not explorin the things that really interested me and in the mean time i had to live with a man who questioned my intelligence, my sense of worth because of my disability and my loyalty? or is it personal ethics because i was forcing him to move and stretch and shift in ways that he NEVER imagined and it was ALL for my benefit.

The only thing is, it wasn’t for my benefit..i wasn’t quite there..yes no doubt i benefited from having a husband and the immediate hetero validation and communal respect that goes along with that but its not like it was getting me a job or anything..i’m not playing that particular game, instead it was affecting , my lesbian rep which is sad and a whole topic on its own. Sexually i was not expanding i was regressing, same with emotionally etc and i was starting to realize that in the choices that i started to consider and worse in the choices that i made and actually lived with. for ex: after a man threatened me physically i went ahead and married him..of course i took secret comfort in the knowledge that if it ever came down to it and it did..i may not win but by sheer volume size i would have a fighting chance and i did have a fucking fighting chance (i have an ex to thank for that)

Knowing how hard it is find people with whom you can be emotionally present with, safely explore gender boundaries with and be queer with ESP naija ppl they are theoretically not even supposed to exist. I mean he was the only one that i EVER found (but i still have some time and i wasn’t safe with him so who am i fucking kidding) I felt so afraid of letting him go…i was like maybe if i put up with it he will get better, he will learn, he will change, I did to a certain extent..but not untill i left and was faced with the cold hard fact that what i had was precious was REAL resistance in ways that counted. I still feel like which other igbo guy will like me stick something up his ass? that will not be sooo caught up in stupid macho, patriachy, homophobia to allow himself experience that..to push himself to go there, to allow himself to be fucked..the funny thing is i think my ex hubby got it..he understood the fucking sexual politics of getting fucked and thats why he felt the need to demand my attention and assert his authority over me..to basically find other ways to be a “man”, to find other ways to fuck me. Why wasn’t it enough that he fucked me and i fucked him? why wasn’t it enough? why can’t it be enough?

it would be goood, good to actually support him through his process, if i had the support of other like minded ppl to people which reminds me that i did have that at same point but then he never would have had the opportunity nor would i have met him..anyways

The real is that when i remember being afraid of him, when i remember the cold hand of fear sneaking up my back and my impulse to cause him harm..i’m ok to just let it go.