|The Sex Girl (For a Dose of Love) - Cover - Photo Stefano Fusaro©|
Since the days are busy lately, and my brain kind of tired, I thought I would delight you with a very short excerpt from my novel, The Sex Girl (For a Dose of Love).
Enjoy, and a 'real' blog will come soon - I promise!
"Her nails were still painted with the midnight colors, but in some way it was more that elegant night plum Chanel shade she always loved so much, instead of the plain black she had been using in the past years of dark and heavy metal music, people, and environment. Her life so far had been pretty much losing herself in smoky and dirty clubs, listening to her favorite music and having the most beautiful fake-love-sex she had ever experienced.
Every night was exactly the same, but it was the only option she had been considering for a while. Getting loaded to get through the day, anesthetizing the pain and pretending she was fine.
Fake was pretty much her favorite word; something that was at least preventing her from dealing with the inside, and that made her look dangerous, mysterious and beautifully fucked up. Many times she had thought about giving up that life, but the fear of losing her rock ‘n’ roll damaged allure scared her to death. Unfortunately no one else was actually positively affected by that, if not because they wanted something in return, or because they didn't care about anything else but some prohibited fun with the queen; and the damage bullshit was only affecting her life, while the rest of her old friends were moving on with their lives and checking every box society asks you to, in order to get the community honorary membership.
To be very honest there was nothing charming in what she was doing. She wasn't begging for money on the street, but that didn't make her a better person; she was only an A list bulimic junkie, which is not a title you are proud of on your résumé anyway.
Giving real life a chance was too frightening; she’d rather rot in her beautiful golden cage, nailed and carefully built over the years.
K was becoming a leather-and-high-heels masochistic version of Alice in Wonderland, searching for answers and losing herself in every dark and dirty hole she would find on the way, or on her arms.
Though she had changed a lot on the outside, there was something from K’s past that would remain with her forever."
SHE JUST CHOSE NOT TO FEEL,
SHE JUST CHOSE AN ALTERNATIVE WAY OF BLEEDING,
SOMETIMES, YOU JUST NEED A DAY IN L.A.,
SOMETIMES, YOU JUST NEED TO FEEL YOUR BONES AGAIN,
SOMETIMES, YOU JUST NEED AN ADDICTION, TO A DIFFERENT KIND OF POISON.
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Pure pain. Pure poetry. And your heart bleeds.