As an ex-prostititute (or "sex trade worker"), I find myself with the desire to purge my soul of various tales of triumph and woe, that I survived whilst working as a lady of the night. This will not be in any chronological order, as some memories are more vivid than others and some are not as close to the surface. I usually remember the buried memories when I wake up at three in the morning, with a clear picture in my head some obscure event that happened many years ago. But I assure you, this is all true. I dont know why I have decided to share this now, I am now living a regular life, contributing positively to society, abiding by rules and laws - this will be a sort of descent and ascent of my experiences with drug abuse and selling my body.
Here we go.
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