June 7, 2019 09:02:13
• Brisbane: Domination & fetish
All the brothels are haunted and now the internet is too. Haunting is one of the most common paranormal beliefs around the world, many believe almost every town and city has at least one haunted place - although I have worked in many offices that had their ghostly quirks - where maybe one would turn the lights off and the office would decide that, no - that lights would in fact be remaining on.. Places that would frequently host unexplained temperature changes and host unusual scents - although actually those unusual scents were actually maybe more explainable than the other phenomena.
My dying plant that sat in my office for a month before it was reclaimed, coaxed back to life. Now it lives a new life, an artifact of an old world . What will become of office trinkets? Will they be museum pieces from the Befores?
Where we remembered this is how we fashioned these special places. They were beautiful.
 This idea that Art is never finished, it is just abandoned, the abandoned building feels like a making of a ghost town, an art of abandonment. What are the things around us that feel much more susceptible to change in this time. One's attachment to things being one way feels limiting in our understanding or change.
 When I see that I have written vital resource - I think about why there is such scarcity in the resources we have - that it becomes strange that we are not talking about why we have so few resources and that is why we are scrambling to reshape what we are given.There is a lacuna, in literature and discourse, on the intersection of borders and identity, in both the analogue and digital realms...I think a lot about the writing that is created to be constantly reshaping and renavigating the spaces we are in. Queers and Sexworkers shaped the internet - really we did so much to make the internet lovely. I know this is real: the spaces we improve are the spaces that we occupy. We are also in a time where the platforms that are used by workers as safety tools, and spaces where we build community are being removed. This removal gives spaces for others to create narrative about our lives and erode what we have built.
 Once while I worked at the now defunct dendy peep show on coverlid place in china town - While having a delish ciggy and smoothie break and only just wearing an XL - tshirt over a bikini with thigh highs,. a chance a joyous meeting with a co-worker and her child- the sweet tot asked me if I drove a jet ski. Imagine looking so fancy that a child believes you must be the kind of person who would drive a jet ski. A pink switch and diamante collar and You can look like the type of person that drives a jetski to a 6 year old.
I don't even have my drivers licence, Like no part of it, not even my L, I have only even done one practice drive.. Her mother and I would really enjoy some cheap speed on quite mondays, that was traded for a bj in the peep show. She would show me her experimental Calisthenics routines - a treat - Our joy to be with each other, interrupted only by our bookings. These moments of being in our bodies and other peoples were never standardized. For a moment each Friday my reg would begin our time together with a lil empting his spermies into a martini glass for our end of work drinks, I would sniff my drink and confirm what a wonderful heady bouquet it had. He was a good boy. Delicate non sips like at a child's tea less tea party. I may never be served such work knock off drinks in a bikini from savers again - While right here right now plays in battle with the porno blasting from the shop floor. I probably will never be thought of again as the kind of person who might probably drive as jet ski. That was 9 years ago - But calculating how far in the past something was - feels like its needs a more accurate barometer than linear time., It was in an age when I used to use natures pocket to carry weed over borders - now i think it is another pocket where I hold grief from pain.
 While creating work about my body - I have wondered if I create work about being ill or trauma , which I do - over and over - does that mean I am invested in these being part of me for structure?
Although I know many things live on without a body, We’re never not in bodies: that’s just part of navigating our journey .
 EXTRACT FROM STORY FROM 2013// THINKING ABOUT A BEFORE TIMES OF BEING IN BODIES//He is despo for me to pee on him - I had just wasted a wee, Wasted is a funny way to look at it.. I would love to sell every bath room experience, but I simply don’t have the market not management skills to allow this to be a current reality.. A lunch time moment the week before christmas, he drinks a larger and watches porn in the crazy horse theater - I leave him - we are to separate for moments to allow myself to rehydrate in the back room.. and I sit by the heater next to the lockers and drink a very not so delishy two liter bottle of tap water and half a barocca, its for flavor and color.. I lie on the floor, my stomach hurts.. I’m ready.. I walk through into the cinema.. Then into the mini private dance room, I’m the boss, not like Bruce, but he is going down.. we are in play, I push him on the floor, all fours.. his bag spills open, a pre opened beer makes a pool on the foul carpet that no one should come in contact with without some concern for consequence - and he licks beer off his hand, and then the carpet….a carpet in a porn theaters have there whole own culture, the fluids that merge and cohabit are endless, I can not watch as he invades this world with his licky licky tongue … I undress him.. I’m ill prepared for the situation at hand.. I had just focused on the vast consumption of liquid to create this dream situation and had forgotten to consider floor coverage. I make him lay his jacket and t-shirt and shirt like the base of a camp fort. He has nothing but tighties on. He is beautiful. I make him beg for treaties…. We have begun Beyoncé’s guides us, soothing words says Every night I rest in my bed With hopes that maybe I'll get a chance to see you When I close my eyes I'm going out of my head Lost in a fairytale, can you hold my hands and be my guide?I hold his hands in mine and spit in his face, and orange splattering, my care tinted by the dissolvable aide..My guilty pleasure, I ain't going nowhere ..Baby 'long as you're here, I'll be floating on air..He rolls over.. I get stage fright… an arid and barren landscape.. stomach is round with water…. He is opening his mouth wider as if that was the problem.. and my body opens up and I release into him, it is glorious, the joy of ones first trip to water world, every one wants to get wet and wild, one glorious constant gushing… I engage some pelvic floor exercises and close off… this is met with wonderful wonderful wonderful, more more…. I am not at a point of advancement in my mind pee connect where I can gage how much more is left.. definitely some, but that’s not really a unit that has been standardized at this point. I step on his dick, I feel it getting hard.. I squat over his face, it’s the B side, it’s a remix.. several gushes, punctuated with silence.. drip then shake.. he rolls over and starts rubbing his dick on the floor, he is totally free styling, this is an orthodox move.. So mystical, I love it.. Judges go wild, all authentic movements, we didn’t see this coming.. a reference point that is organic, it flows through him, nature is a language I can not always read.. he is done..a blow but no bow.. I wish flowers had been thrown from the sideline we stand face to face, the room has the vibe of a storage closet.. will he remember this? Do I need this to be special for always? I shake his hand, business like formality, I want a different movement, secret handshake..I spray a rancid air freshener, I hold it high above my head, like a horn, two pumps fill the room with essence of floral death..it like a smudge stick for the spiritually void, this never happened, I never saw you I never, never peed on the floor. Good bye, good luck, god speed, god bless, blessed be, be well, well done, well played, peace out, get out, good bye. yellow notes in my pants feel crunchy and discreet. College sluts love cum is getting to a crucial point…a soft cheese fully packaged has rolled down the theater floor and sits at the bottom of the stage. I read it as an offering, to honor those who came before, showing us the complex and messy blessing bodies have bestowed upon this world.
Queenie Bon-Bon is a writer, performance artist and sex worker living and working in Narrm/melbourne.
Their work focuses on labour and the body. They have created four full length shows - which have toured in Australia, Europe and North America. Their work has been featured on locanto, backpage and in Maximum Rock and Roll and The Lifted Brow. They are a member of Australian sex worker art collective Debby Doesnt Do It For Free and are the 2020 recipient of Firstdraft's Writers Program. You can watch their last show ‘I made my bed, you lie in it’ at https://www.deeplyleisured.com/
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