Curse of Consciousness.

I have done my best work in the past few weeks. I have made it known what I will accept and what I will reprimand. No longer do I have any attempts at mutiny. My soldiers are in order, they serve with loyalty, and they are rewarded with my good graces. I treat each one as a special piece of my empire. Very small pieces of course, but valuable ones. They support my dreams, my projects, they acknowledge my beauty, and they apologize for their misgivings.

It has been the job I accepted, to teach each how to honor a respect. Not just me, but every woman, every person, every identity. The way you treat those at the edges of society reflects on your worthiness to participate. Only with the most respect, only with a careful ear for listening, both verbal and nonverbal, a knack for understanding the nuances of consent, can you stay serving in my empire.

I have taken on this project, for the past two years of working in this industry. When I began, I knew it would be a few different things to me. One, it will be my own empowerment, my own disguise, alter ego, my own way of full expression. Two, it would be a chance to connect and encourage other women to recognize themselves in the magnificence beyond and share in our successes, our pain, and our boundaries. Three, I would act as if I were undercover. In the end the men I work with have asked themselves the questions they’ve run away from. They pushed themselves beyond what they wanted to. Perhaps, this disappears as quickly as it arose, but every question answered, every thought provoked, alters your brain, changes your way of thinking. It is my sorcery, my way of invoking magic. The curse of consciousness, and the growth of society. One man at a time.