If being a hoe has taught me anything in this life,
it’s that all of your pain can be turned into pleasure.
Paige Owens (18+) on Twitter
When I lay awake in bed last night, (again) and I was suffering from pain in my chest (again); I made the resolution that from this day forward, till death do me part (and I hoped me doing this was going to seriously postpone that) put self-care first.
And I was going for RADICAL self-care!
Like William Dafoe!
I would be getting up every morning, do a two hour yoga practice, and that was it.
Everything else I got done that day would be a bonus.
But despite real yogis I knew I wouldn’t practice on an empty stomach, and needed breakfast and then coffee.
And I always crawled behind the computer with my coffee to write a post, which took me two to four hours.
It had usually been a blog post for the yoga studio because my focus on making money as LS Harteveld (and therefor doing daily messaging as LS Harteveld) was only a few days old.
But regardless of the account (yoga studio or LSH), writing in pj’s was of course not proper self-care!
So last night I got the idea to start writing the tiniest LS Harteveld sales post, while drinking my AM Latte Macchiatos.
No more lengthy blog posts.
And then I’d do the William Dafoe, and I would live happily and pain free and wildly successful ever after.
I wondered if I would just write the sales post on Facebook?
And then repost it to Twitter?
Or would I be missing out on sales, because people didn’t want to click a Facebook link?
Was I was better off creating blog posts?
And I knew I would ultimately want to collect them!
Like a diary.
Not that I intended to publish a real book with a year of sales posts, of course not. But soon enough they would turn into really great stories that I had not told anywhere else, and then I would be uncomfortable with the idea that they were only on Facebook.
If I wanted to save myself from copy-pasting backwards through my TL, 30 days from now or something, I was better off to immediately publish the sales posts in a blog.
So they were archived.
Meanwhile it was 3 AM, and I was angry that despite me having prioritized writing/ making money from LS Harteveld this week – a commitment I would keep for the rest of my life – I was still suffering the pain in my chest.
I thought that the chest pains had been caused by feeling a pressure to make money with my yoga business; or to make money as a business mentor.
Now that I had decided to focus on writing, and on selling books, I had expected the heart pains to magically disappear.
I did stop having suicidal thoughts and crying, the moment I had vetoed to ever do anything with my cognitive skills/ with my degree/ or even to ever perform emotional labor again.
Yet I didn’t understand why my body was still throwing pain tantrums, when clearly there was nothing to worry about.
Because this was the plan:
Write, sell books, have hobby yoga studio, get new cats
Teaching yoga classes is the ideal leisure, to compensate for being behind my desk all day. I was positive that when I became a famous author, I would want to have that studio to stay connected to all the friends I was teaching there.
And that I, a stay at home writer, would get new cats in 2019, after my apartment had been renovated.
I didn’t know when I would start making a living selling books, but I did know I would have to let the studio go, if it took too long.
Which is why there was an alternative plan.
Write, sell too few books, cancel yoga studio, downsize life to minimum income level, get a job as a janitor, work 40 hours a week, write at night to stay sane, don’t take cats, lose social life, become lonely, no complaining because so many people have obligations next to their 40 hour job
Two options! This was an actual plan!
And of course the second option was less attractive than the first, but surely no reason to get a heart attack right?
the persistent pain in my chest could also be caused by a hidden backup plan, working title:
under the bridge with a bottle of red wine
In this third option, I had continued the yoga studio just a little too long, downsized insufficiently, or I had not managed to get a job as a janitor.
In that scenario I would end up homeless and with nothing to show for, writing in paper notebooks I carried with me, and with limited to no options to get any posts out into the world.
Maybe they would be released after I died, maybe not.
Still suffering from insomnia I realized I needed to prioritize self-care. I bet William Dafoe slept great, and technically he wasn’t making any commitments to acting or creating other sources of income either.
I was convinced that if I focused on doing my daily yoga practice, I too would be able to sleep, and I would stop suffering from pain in my chest. But since it was a pretty ungodly hour for yoga, I decided to masturbate instead.
So I went onto Twitter, to the TL of Steve Holmes.
Steve Holmes is my favorite porn actor, and unlike Facebook, Twitter lets you (and Steve) post EVERYTHING.
I don’t have to download or Google or pay: I can get aroused just browsing the promotional gifs, trailers and clips on Steve Holmes’ TL.
And from there I clicked to Paige Owens:
one of the actrices Steve had worked with.
And between all the porn (enough to ensure I would have no trouble getting off masturbating in a sec) I found this tweet from her:
And I stopped.
Of course, she was right.
This was my specialty. This was what I was all about. This is why, although I had not heard from my lover Mr.Big for a while, I liked him not contacting me as much as I liked it if he did.
The pain of loneliness made the pleasure of seeing him, so much sweeter.
Just like sex, where pain makes the pleasure more intense. I knew I had the same fetish in life as well, but I had not realized until Paige’s tweet that I needed this.
That I would rather suffer heart pains at night, than to live a balanced life.
I didn’t need sales posts and a steady income selling books.
I didn’t need a two hour yoga practice.
For me as a writer, a submissive, a pain junkie;
I needed that pain in my chest as much as I needed tough love from Mr.Big.
I closed Twitter, masturbated, and slept like a baby.
An unexamined life is not worth living
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Want to know exactly how much tough love Mr.Big Has Given me?
You can buy my book
diaries and erotica
in my book shop.
It opens with the story “The Biggie”; about my first time anal sex.
Als je Nederlands bent is ook 22 erotische verhalen een aanrader!
Je kunt deze kopen in mijn Lulu shopje;
of bij de Feeks in Nijmegen.
De Feeks verstuurt ook.
Om 22 erotische verhalen, met heeel veel tough love,
bij de Feeks te kopen scroll naar beneden.
These are my English titles:
Dutch American Diary 2008-2009 €15
LS Diary 2012-2013 € 10
Bedtime Stories 2014 €15
Mirage 2014 €5
Big, diaries and erotica 2015-2016 € 20
Get a 25% discount on all prices in the shop.
Select your store f.e. Nederland or United States
with the flag in the upper right corner.
De volgende Nederlandse boeken
zijn ook op voorraad bij boekhandel de Feeks in Nijmegen
verzending gratis v.a. € 17,50
Het Boek Benjamin € 45
verzameld werk NL en Engels.
Het enige boek dat hier niet inzit is Witte Tijgerin, dus mijn andere Nederlandse boeken zitten hier wél in.
coming of age novelle
22 erotische verhalen € 15
literaire pornografie in de geest van Anais Nin
Witte Tijgerin €5
gids voor solitaire vrouwen die een geweldig seksleven willen en plenty energie