Ckiara Song of Men Slaves

Ckiara Song of Men Slaves Ercell Valcina Fleurima



Ercell Valcina Fleurima’s Book Receives Rave Reviews, Examines Modern Morality
Explores What Happens When a Woman Pursues Personal and Sexual Freedom






Alameda, CA –November 22 2008 - -
Ckiara Song of Men Slaves,
a new biographical novel by Ercell Valcina Fleurima,
transports readers into the life of a woman frustrated with family abuse,
as she refuses to be silent and exposes what happens when the family secret is exposed.
It turns an entire family against her, even community leaders enable the abuse to continue, protect the aggressor
(who is a union official) and steal her child in retaliation.


The dramatic book details the emotional and physical, sexual and
psychological events of the main character’s childhood-young adult
life that leads to the present spiritual, sexual and worldly
enlightenment that help her understand, accept and explore her life
experiences.
Fleurima writes eloquently of the main character’s
defeats, struggles and triumphs, sharing her experiences in a world
of false equality, double standards and what happens when personal and sexual freedom is pursued at all costs.


The author’s brutal honesty and sense of humor lightens the mood as she
relates a poetic story in this interactive – narrator to reader experience.



Praises for Ckiara Song of Men Slaves:

“This book is a triumph of sexuality and spirituality.
The author,
E.V. Fleurima has described her past life working as a
dominatrix in the sex industry, humbling men, having men slaves,
and her own son stolen from her, which led to the creation of this
beautiful book which questions society’s moral directions…”
John Carruthers, University of Manchester

• “The manner in which she tells her story…I’ve never seen anything like it…
Art translating life. It is amazing! Groundbreaking.”• Carol Leigh, Author – Unrepentant Whore


“As diverse and exotic as her heritage, she creates a deeply personal
and eclectic blend of poetry and prose, which highlight,
‘Ckiara’, her inner persona.”
Linda Garcia, University of Berkeley



Published by Lulu.com, Ckiara Song of Men Slaves can be purchased at:
http://stores.lulu.com/csomslaves

Contact Information:
Ercell Valcina Fleurima

Alameda Ca 94501
510 712 5671













EXCEPRTS from Ckiara song of Men Slaves:
CKIARA

SONG OF MEN SLAVES
IN WRITTEN THEATRE





Ercell Valcina Monica Rima Fleurima



Ckiara: Song of Men Slaves
In written theatre

1987- Revised 2001
Revised-2006

Copyright © 2008 by Ercell Valcina Monica Rima Fleurima

ISBN 978-0-6152-425
This is a work of fiction based on a true story and,
as such, it is a product of the author’s memoirs and creative imagination.
All names of characters appearing in these pages are fictitious except for those of public figures.
Any similarities of characters to real persons, whether living or dead, excepting public figures, are coincidental.
Any resemblance of incidents portrayed in this book to actual events,
other than public events, is likewise coincidental.
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, stored, or
transmitted by any means—whether auditory, graphic, mechanical,
or electronic—without written permission of both publisher and author,
except in the case of brief excerpts used in critical articles and reviews.
Unauthorized reproduction of any part of this work is illegal and is punishable by law.





Dedicated to: Bill (my mentor)
Inspired by Saycsar,
Saycsar, is Cupid realized and Haniel’s right hand man.
My muse George, whose talents are only, matched by my angel Radueriel, the angel of art.
You darling are the inspiration of the muses, gods and goddess alike.
I know I’ve loved you both since the beginning and throughout time!


Infinity!


I’d like to thank my family, for without their actions. I would never have been inspired to pursue my passion writing.



CKIARA

SONG OF MEN SLAVES
IN WRITTEN THEATRE






Introduction:


Hello Reader my name is Ercell Valcina Monica Rima-Fleurima. For short, E.V. Fleurima.
This book is written in an unorthodox manner, like to call written theatre, it is a play about,
and told by a woman who is a Sensual Dominatrix/Sacred Whore.
She describes her past and explains her perception of her life,
sexuality and spirituality and how she views the world.

My book is intended as a production played out for the reader
(the reader is a voyeur) through my narration.
Font and format changes are the thespians that play out the scenes...
The book/play is interactive (from narrator to reader);
in some scenes the reader becomes involved with the production.
The subject matter would appeal to readers who are interested in frank discussions
about sexuality, spirituality, poetry, female empowerment and artistic self expression.

The tone of the book is informal as the main character addresses her
guest in the dark corner of her home, as the narrator (me) and the reader (you) watch her. The book is constructed as a theatrical monologue, although there
are a couple scenes where other characters interact with the main character.
The book is dramatic—the main character describes emotionally
and physically traumatic events from her childhood,
yet with a witty sense of humor she laughs at her past and dreams of a better future.
The book also contains scenes that are sexually explicit…




NOTE FROM AUTHOR TO READER:


Don’t let me be misunderstood.
This is not a violin playing, “poor me story”
it’s far from it.
It is a story of evolution, Ckiara’s.
Ckiara and I are a work still in progress and here’s where we are at in our evolution.
I have made it really sexy and crazed much like my own life.
This story was created from the outrageous events that have
occurred in my life and my professional life as a Model, dominatrix/whore,
a mother, cab driver and human being. I have had defeats, struggles and triumph.
It is also a labor of love that came to life through fear, denial, bigotry, others deliberate and my own genuine ignorance,
a love unfulfilled and my son stolen from me.
The ache was a pain so great that it forced me to take hand to pen
and I put it to paper and revised my poetry writing that led to the creative birth of, “Ckiara Songs of Men Slaves.”
I know that one day, when my son returns to me,
he will know what went on and my other capabilities I have, if it embarrasses him?
Oh, well!! Life is made of many things, including pride and shame.
I know he is not an unenlightened soul though
I’d like my son to know that sorrow evolves into bliss if one accepts the task which is dealt,
then journeys through it rejecting nothing along the way.
I’d also like for him to
know how it feels to experience and learn from your own life…it’s not a lesson for all just, the self yet it serves as a map for another in the future!
I will also like for my jingle boy (my infinite love)
to read what lead up to me not showing up in NY and what I was going through,
when in our chance meeting, I scorned him and walked away…

(That’s one of the reasons why I added my photographs to the book.)
My book is also about what can happen when one pursues personal freedom.
So with that in mind I took the liberty of writing it my way, “written theatre”.
Plus all the fonts asked me to throw them a party. This is my souls’ art!

Thank you to my brother Milton Hebbert
Thank you John Carruthers.

Thank you (reader)…
Peace, love and light
Ercell Valcina Monica Rima-Fleurima













CKIARA




Song of Men Slaves



{Your eyes (Reader) hear a woman loudly whisper her sonnet as she gazes
from a balcony up at the astral embodied lit night.}


{Scene set as a silhouette}

{Her identity is hidden}




WHAT WONDERS YOU MIGHT FIND
IF ONLY YOU WERE MINE
THEN YOU TOO WOULD SING
THE SONG OF MEN SLAVES
SLAVES TO LOVE
Their LOVE is TO SERVE the MISTRESS
HOWEVER I… THAT IS
WITH YOU MY SWEET
IT WOULD BE DIFFERENT
I’D HAVE YOU SING TO ME
IN YOUR SONGS YOU’D SING YOUR TRUTHS
AND YOUR “TRUTH” WOULD BE ME
I KNOW YOUR WORDS WOULD BE CLEAN
YOU’D SING YOUR PRAISES TO ME!
THEN
I WOULD WELCOME YOU TO MY DELIGHT
NOTHING COMPLICATED
JUST THE THINGS YOU LIKE
ALL IN STRIDE
ON YOUR OWN TIME
YOUR PLACE
OR
MINE
LOVING YOURSELF AND ME LOVING ME
LOVING TO PLEASE AND BE PLEASED


PASSION AND LUST

MAKING YOU
BREAKING YOU
BAITING YOU TO FALL IN LOVE.
TELL ME SOMETHING
DO YOU THINK I’M DANGEROUS OR DO YOU THINK I’M FUN?







{Lighting remains dim in your mind (reader) into next scene}





… … … ….



… … …


… …


…


{She begins to step across the floor. Your eyes (Reader) now watch as a statuesque frame walks back into her chamber then slides open her closet doors and declares}




HERE!
I PRESENT THE SONG THOSE MEN SLAVES HAVE MADE FOR
ME THIS NIGHT!



{Your eyes view within the closet, two-masked men strapped on to roulette wheels and a third on his knees wears a black spiked leather collar. One voice behind the other they chant.}



MEN SLAVES. ””“Come in to my chamber. She will say…”””
WOMAN. (Interrupts.) I feel strange, shameless you might say. Eros has
stricken me with his arrow and…tore
my tender heart. It needs mending and I thought maybe…Mmm….
I don’t know?
Do you?
My virtue?
ha ha ha…
It is not at risk.


MEN SLAVES. (continue). “””She will make your groin tired with pleasure,
You’ll become addicted to…
her pain. It’s an addiction we all gladly share!
She will know every part of your soul without knowing you for long.
She will not tease, for she can only please!She is Ckiara, temptress the goddess of pleasure and pain!”””


{Suddenly!}

{The doors slide shut before your very eyes! Your eyes hear what your ears cannot. Her sweet voice declares.}



CKIARA. See!



{A shade of darkness covers your eyes as her voice gradually fade away… … …}


I just wanted you to listen to those men slaves


Now you know with me you can never go wrong!”




<<<<<<<<<< >>>>>>>>>>


……………………


BR>…………..


{Out of the air, your eyes hear a male’s voice echo}


“Give in to my brand of love...”


“” “”

‘’’ in to ‘’ ‘’ “’ ‘’ “



“”my brand of “”


“of “

“Love “

“love”








……………………

…………………



…………

{Your eyes are transformed into a camera (reader) and the reels of your mind begin to turn. The woman (Ckiara) reappears in her living room chatting away; allow your eyes to eavesdrop. Allow your eyes to hear her words.}


{LISTEN}


CKIARA (smiling). Okay Dickey One, like all my new play-things, you must be initiated into the family by my…hmmm…sharing my self.
But, first a story!
That way we can get some understanding between you and me!
This one I’ll call the evolution of an Erotic Goddess. It is from the heart.


{She pauses… then she begins to speak across the room}


“In a world dominated by Gods of one sort or another…



{She giggles loudly; The camera of your eyes (reader) watch her stand, as she takes a hold of a black and yellow feather duster… follow her as she begins dusting while continuing her story.}



I began reaching for the place of the Goddess within me after a childhood filled with, conventional religious fear, the repression of individuality, abandonment, sabotage, denials and the ever loving, “For appearance sake."



{Ckiara remains still and nostalgic and your eyes sense her sadness. She looks across the room and giggles then resumes her speech.}




CKIARA. My insights into the human sexual dilemma, a dilemma that almost destroyed me in my girlhood, were broadened and experienced during my time abroad as the ultimate male sex drive, a model. The lack of sexual inhibitions and awareness of their bodies I found in a lot of countries in Europe were alarming and reassuring. I was so tormented with my own body and sexuality when I arrived. Although I retained my own inhibitions, my eyes began to open, and the fine-tuning of my erotic power begun.



{She stands erect and majestic as she says :}



Today, I am the multi racial/-cultural Goddess, a sensuous dominatrix, who is a figment of every man’s dreams, whether he knows it or not. I know I may not be the only one, but this is about my truths, my experiences and me. Yet, there are women amongst us, also, whose minds I have entered through their subconscious even when they wonder about strange inner longings and the erotic itch that will not go away.




{The camera of your eyes (reader), watch as she looks behind her back across to the room and says :}



CKIARA(indignant). Don’t look at me like that!


{She giggles and continues to speak as she polishes her possessions.}



If this sounds presumptuous on my part, remember it is the female, not the male, who is the embodiment of sexuality, and there are those who have described me as not only a Goddess, but as an ultimate yet intricate female. Whether this is true or not, I have found the Goddess that also lies within the soul of all women, but all too few ever dare to find her.



!!!

???

!!!


Believe it.

Don’t question it.







{Ckiara becomes pensive and retreats in her mind for several minutes.}


practitioner of S&M, with epicurean sexual tastes…
Yes an evolution occurred, but it started...



{Gradually somewhat slurring she begins to speak…}




CKIARA. Th-r—rough… m-m-m-m-m-m-m-my travels… always…


{She pauses, clears her throat and gathers her thoughts.}



Always in search of the balance between soul, body, mind and the
universal one; I’ve met many Shamans.


{She turns to her guest and asks.}



Do you know what they told me?



{The camera of your eyes (Reader) look around the space, in the direction of which her question is directed there is darkness, yet your eyes feel a presence, she continues to speak.}



CKIARA. They have told me that I am an old soul, and that I have been courtesan, a warrior, a scholar, a pauper and a queen in previous incarnations. This I do not remember, but I feel it.


{She stops, ponders, giggles, stops with a knowing smile on her face then her expression becomes firm and she continues to speak.}




CKIARA. To this day I can feel an essence of memories that I can’t
remember, emotions and convictions, I can feel but not view in my
mind’s eye… always even through my worst times, I knew I was and had been beings and there was more to this being than that which is my body…
I knew things no one ever taught me! I knew I had been to this place before therefore their words to me, I know them, to be true.
In short, Mon petit ami, I am not only powerful…
but I am also a deeply sensual, woman. One who has been through many
incarnations, and shares the sensuality that is in my soul with
those who seek it.

Again, I’ll say, I know I may sound presumptuous, but this with me. In fact, it was almost driven out of me before I even knew it was there . . .



{The camera that is your eyes (reader) watch her, she is pensive and inquisitive then looks directly across the room and shakes her head negatively.}



“I hope I’m not boring you?!?”


.... “ ”




“ “


{Her voice echoes…}

“
Boring you”

“...

Of course, not!”




{She replies}





{The reels of your mind turn, the camera of your eyes (reader) watch her become insightful, soft spoken and a bit dismal}








CKIARA. At the age of four I was introduced to what later would be my torment, my savior, my passion and “my sin?” My sex and the acts!!! The way it was introduced to me by adult men, were more like a mental seduction that later turned physical…
What I mean is; they got into my mind then enticed me with what I thought were; strange feelings in my body back then. and today I know now to be arousal. Yet the feelings back then were more like awful yet interesting memories. It was awful because at that time I was told I could tell no one; that “I was the cause of grown men to have those feelings for me! I was bad and that no one would believe me regardless.” I knew what happened to me was a bad thing yet the depictions in media altered my perception of rape and molestation.
Their stories were filled with guilt, but I had none, just wonder and sometimes feelings, physical desires and disgust, I did not understand but sometimes enjoyed.
The media people said; “Tell someone!”
When I spoke up, I was told nothing like that ever happen to me, that I was a bright imaginative child; in other words I made it up!
I have learned that the generation of which my parents came from, denial is the way of life. So, they thought they’d pass it on! I really believe they thought it was best for me at first…
I convinced myself that I was “delusional”… it all was truly in my mind!




{She remains silent for several minutes then begins to polish the wood floor. She stops walks to a small file cabinet removes an old file, looks through it and pulls out a wrinkled old paper and asks her guest.}




CKIARA. You want to hear it?



{There is only silence in the darkening room.}




CKIARA (pouts). Well too bad! You’re going to have to hear anyway!”

Wow!
This one is old!
I shall honor you with more of my soul’s art.
It’s so lonely here
Where is my heart?
My mind wonders
Where is my heart?
I am rather or have become numb.
Just in the chest area
I don’t feel a thing
It’s hollow
If objects could be thrown through it
I would not feel a thing.
It’s empty, transparent at times
Seems that it exists
But much like god, I cannot prove it to me
I am dying I feel so old
Yet I am young



I am dying but in life
And sometimes…

{She sighs}

I welcome the good night!
Because
It’s so lonely here
Being alone amongst many a thousand

Yet I feel this love
And it makes me want to fight

I try to catch the will/ambition to go on
When it is strong in me
But imposition throws itself at me
Then like a feather in the wind it goes
And blows away from me…
There is no one to share my thoughts with
It’s so lonely here and I am freezing
Without warmth and understanding
They hate for no reason
Only surrounded by those not interested in comprehension
Their mark on the world is all they care for
And a status to prove they are so much more than others
I speak to be responded to by harsh words
The love I’ve been shown is
Selfish wills commands and reckless impositions
They do not hold my conceptions or me in high regard
For they have read many a book and never questioned why?
I too read from their books and gave it a try
But still my reason differs
So they say I am a lie
I have no reason









I am “out of my mind”
I am all-wrong.
This has been dictated
To me and branded on my skin
I am sin
It’s so lonely here in my soul
My body is all I feel
And I hunger for strangers
They leave me content for a minute
Fill my body with their brand of joy
Their pleasure makes me feel alive
And I feel I’ve served a purpose
If I can not rejoice
I let others take their joy from me
But those actions I have to hide
Yet the hunger restores
And I begin to crave once more.
My sin I do not feel
For what’s in the bottle
With its last drop, it lets me sleep all night
With a dead like sense of safety
The dead don’t hurt any more
See in my family
There lives much hate
There lives the monster called uncertainty
Our house pet is called rejection
And a liar called denial

So different from them I be,
They point their finger and say it all begun with me.
It’s so lonely here
I bark to the bartender “another round here for my friends!”
Then the voice pleads
Where is my heart I ask again?
So drunk I can’t see!





THE VOICES SAY.
"The bottom of that bottle
Will only close doors!
Cause you to become a no more.”


CKIARA. The one that numbs the pain?
I ask the voice inside
That enemy does not forsake me
Its spirits in me
Medicate my bruised being
Although that drink does
Break and my spirits
But is my best friend
Yet makes a fool of me
Causes them to dismiss me,
Say things and add lies to my
Misdeeds
My pain I try to inflict on only one
Me
The humiliation it brings I long to shake
But I shrug it off and I say

This relation with my enemy is better
Than the ones which my heart does love
Oh, yeah!
For
If theirs be love
I choose no more of it!



{The curtains that are your eyelids close}

{She stands still then speaks out continuing the dialogue from her mind through her voice to your eyes.}




CKIARA. When, I wrote that, my mother and I had an argument, the things that she said to me were my awakening yet they cut like a razor. She wished she had crossed her legs and killed me as I was been born. That I was the most ungrateful of her children and that I was cursed! That one day she’d die and I would roam the earth and she’d not be found and I would cry out for her but never find her!!!” She sounded like a raving lunatic! I felt I had to leave, immediately! I wanted to hurt her physically! I needed peace of mind. Next thing I know…

… (Ckiara shrugs her shoulders) I can’t remember how I got there. I found myself at the Oakland bus depot. I got on the bus and headed for Los Angeles, California. When I got off the bus I had no money, but I knew my way to my great grand Aunt’s’ house. So, like red riding hood, off I went on my pedestrian journey to her place, on my way there, a colorful mural caught my eye; there were dashes of greens, gold and reds, a sun and finally, shackled hands. It was about slavery, and then I looked up, the spray painted words spoke to me…

(she deepens her voice in the way she heard words speak to her in her past). “We most look through our past to forecast our future.” “It made sense.”
CKIARA (in her normal tone) I felt like my past was still my present.
“So am I at a standstill?” I thought to myself.
I knew I had to face those fears that had haunted me for so long. That’s where the small voice got louder and I became more terrified, because I knew I had to face my fears (the monsters in my dreams) both while awake and asleep. I continued to walk, I got a glimpse of myself in a dark window I approached myself, stopped, and forced myself to look into my own eyes.”

CKIARA (shakes her negatively) I always had a hard time looking in the mirror; I mean really looking at myself not the make up I was applying, nor the eyebrows I was plucking off, or even the teeth I was brushing but into my own eyes.
I wondered why I could never look at my self directly... what was this guilt?
What was my shame?
I knew I had to engage myself, my sexual longings, my confusions and others with respect and love.
But, looking back at my past, I knew it would be difficult. Nothing in that short past could contribute to my engaging others or me with respect and love…I was still a child but not.
I felt hurt and confused, because I was told by my stepfather that white people were the rulers and really the superior ones. If ever they lost control they’d just push a button and kill the world. Then my mother would argue about his comments, but her words, showed she too thought so, for example: she’d be talking about some incident and it would be something like;”The man yelled at Sister Catherine too… And she’s white you know?”
Also in my speculation I saw how everyone would always live for the approval or to piss off whitey…. The whole purpose of their being would be to emulate middle class Caucasian values or devaluate oneself to show the white man he doesn’t influence one’s person.


{She reaches a point where there is silence both in her mind and through out her abode…recharged like a battery she carries on from where she paused}



CKIARA. I began hating non-white people actions because they were, I was told, unacceptable as far as my stepfather was concerned; they did not have the education, morals, could not stifle their emotions (he say that as weakness) or have those higher standards of the middle, if not high class Caucasian ruling class.
Then there were my other issues, my sex and sexuality, preferences, and confusion. I never saw or could emulate anyone at home as a role model, neither in the community or society …I found white people money worshippers, dry, evil and fearful, also I stereotype them all as being like my step father and I was afraid they’d blow the world away, because the world was becoming diverse. Never did I think myself inferior though, so what the hell was my stepfather talking about?
The confusion came when I read certain books recommended to me by parents, which contradicted my individual experience, first hand knowledge and conclusions. Also the self help books and biographies I read, painted a different view of the world and individuals than that of my parents. I questioned the atheism of my stepfather and my fanatically religious mother being together? Then there was my ignorance of who, how the world was ran and finally the thoughts and convictions of those close and far from me. I at least studied and took practice from their advice. Then tried on like a dress, then if it fit me correctly and looked well on me, I’d make it mine, but if not I’d put it back on the hanger and leave it for some one else who might like and want to keep the dress.

Those were the things that governed my life!
But, already, I was at least questioning the difference between what I was supposed to think, and what I really thought. My ability to analyze such things had gotten me in trouble, but it also enabled me to see more clearly what was happening to me.
In class one day, not paying attention to what was the
curriculum, but my own study, I had a revelation, and voiced it aloud, “No wonder the Puritans were always in a constant state of outrage!”
If anyone understood I don’t know? But, alone, I was awakening within myself.
… … … …

… … … … … … …
… … … ... …

{She stands and takes hold of a broom begins to sweep her hardwood floor and continues to reminisce…}


BR>
CKIARA. I knew I could be wrong and with many people telling me about how wrong I am they could be on to something?
Yet, I knew even then that I must understand the child within me if I was to truly become the woman and Goddess I knew I could be.
I knew I must not only confront the religion of my mother, but atheism, of my stepfather who raised, and sometimes tortured us all with his constant taunts, put downs, and treatment of my mother. He was a white Sandinista, his bitterness only exceeded by his love of black women. Due to the stigma that kind of personal racial preference carried, in his generation, and social class.

I think the ingrained universal belief that “white skin is superior”, led him to torture my African/Mikitu mother because in his white way he believed that he was better than her, despite, or perhaps because of, the fact that he had married her.
Actually, his thoughts at the time on black women were not unlike those of the slave masters of the past who saw them as pleasure toys and, like so many men even today, believed that pleasure was the right of the male, and theirs alone.
He was driven by always hiding his inferiority complex with a superiority front and sometimes monstrous behavior.
Yet he was the only dad I knew.
But as I became a teenager he struck me as a hypocrite and very envious.
The kind of person who if you have the ill luck to be in his family and you possess talent, beauty or anything he lacks. He will sabotage and/or berate you, or hope the worst for you. I remember as a child when I asked for a dollar. You’d ask for help only to be kicked flat down!
He’d make me feel so low it was like some dark energy tearing at my spirit until his stench of bigotry and negativity had control of me, then I’d second-guess what I do. No, one can know nor do things differently than he, because that makes you wrong and if you are right he will tear you down until you, yourself begin to self sabotage and do his job for him.






{She looks across room then rolls her eyes saying there is a loooooooong pause she looks around and resumes speaking}







CKIARA When my son was removed from my care my eyes began to open, I have never encountered so many liars, I had no Idea that the court system was not for justice but for the best attorney and what sort of an image one would portray for a judge. It’s not about truth or justice; it’s a game of wits and strategy. Who is to know and be my moral better? Are we as people truly modern? Does justice Exist? I asked myself.
I was forced to be a big girl and stop hiding behind how badly I was treated, what happened to me in my childhood I used as a shield of pity to wallow in. I was too lazy or to stubborn to have to prove my worth to them and others! It was too much effort to contribute my talents or to explore other parts of myself.

Sigh…

I also knew I would have to step out side my self and view me as they did! I had to become a member of the society I had/ and at times still have contempt for! The very establishment I had rejected for so long came into my world, it looked around and destroyed what they could not understand, yet opened a nasty horrible door which I had to enter to realize all the more I am inside and like it or not I am on the planet!



…





{YOU READER WATCH HER FACIAL EXPRESSION TURN SERIOUS AND JUST AS QUICKLY her eyes widen with despair and she - ROARS AT THE TOP OF HER LUNGS!!!}






CKIARA (starts running about the space growling and yelling).








AAAHHHH…
RRRRRRRRRRRRRR

AAAGHHHHHHHHHHH !!!!!


F YOU!!! FK!!! F ME!!!!






{She continues yells out several times}









FK YOU!!! FK!!! F ME!!!!



FK!!!



FK ME!!!!





ME…ME..Mmmmmmmmmm…





“”

“”


“”







{…In the blinding light you hear a voice yell out….}


Hey!!!


Why can I only see yesterday?
But no tomorrow
My insights only serve me as a bringer of sorrows
While the masses follow and
I stand, look, speculate
Whether or not mine is also their fate
Life is a circle that never ends

Oh yes, and does life’s suffering ever end?
Although I bend to the lesser of the pains
There are no gains
Not of love or knowledge
Though the cuts begin to heal
The numbness feels
Life’s razors cut both ways
Men do force on the black and white
Yes, I know it’s a rainbow
I realized too early that this world’s designed
For men/boys… … …
Who like games?
Adult children with nothing but games to play?
For they hold power in the pain
Sadistic creature with forced slaves

Every living thing their foot soldier
With no respect humanity
As if life is guaranteed to them forever?
Not this one…
Maybe the next
No!

I don’t want to be a pawn!
Having nothing against luxury or glam
Just so long as it’s one’s own art, expression and appetite
Not to say to another, “You have not!”
I’m sure they are very well aware of that
Most have necessities

And few have just wants
That’s the game of man…
“I think sometimes?”

Though Mother Nature begs to differ on what’s what!
With all the pondering in my mind
I hear a voice inside

I turn down the thoughts and listen … listen
Hear it speak!
It says


{A Male voice is heard and it begins to recite}



Have you the valor to isolate
Leaving caution to the wind?
The “never mind”
To
Gossips whims?
To let the scaring begin?
Do let the scaring begin!

You’ll have to be humble
Living just bare
But always have dignity in your affairs
Let the scaring begin!BR>
Its personal history
And, if there’s refute
You know the Truth
A forget me not
When you see my scars
Let there be laughter
For that, after all, is the happily ever after”



{Your mind reader goes blank}









{She stays still for a moment and regains composure!}







CKIARA (as she gathers her thoughts). I had to understand them! So I would…or rather would not … I mean… Oh dear…I did not want to judge them wrongfully... at all really! But I made it a project to have a better understanding of the world around me! The world I was born into but never was a part of! But, now they had my son and they stole him through lies, so they could what? I got to thinking?
I drew my own conclusions; it was so they could mold my son into their image of the perfect person!
Any fool can look back at world history, and see mans pursuit for mass perfection always results in tragic ends, mass graves, cruelty, dismay, denial and genocide!
I was sad because I thought my son would be turned into someone, who limit them self and only follow what they are told!
Who secretly dream but to admit dreaming is the biggest crime they could commit! So, they hide and scoff at those who dare to try.
Will my son then live precariously through an offspring, whether the offspring is happy or not?
The end result creating a fractured spirit who also lives precariously, haunted by goals and sacrifices, surrenders and a feeling of loss expecting compensation for choices one made!
Wanting and believing that a child or wife or husband owes them something for their efforts to have the things they wanted, and then when not received with the same equation it turns to anger, vengeance and resentment! Creating a bitter soul full of repent and misery, wanting to spread the same onto others! Using his education and intelligence to harm those closest, weakest and the most trusting of him?!




Would he join those beings that feel envy when they realize that the self and the needs of one’s being, the very thing he was taught was to be ignored was truly attainable but it lives in someone else?
Then through fear, jealousy, resentment and laziness, he decides on an easy fix, a pill maybe that would damage his body then prefers to injure the being of another. Living for the sole purpose to destroy the peace within content individual/s! Permitting the chain of negativity to continue passed down from generation to generation!
CKIARA. (Pauses and tracks back her memory and returns to the present.) Kind of like my mother….What an amazing creature yet so insecure she could not work hard for her greatness. She’d rather appear to be, both my sister and mother have, it in them to soar and be what they pretend to be, because that is who they are truly! But they have to hide and be pretentious, because they’ve done misdeeds to attain admiration, cash, cars, homes and receive esteem and admiration from strangers and from the men they sold themselves to.
I prefer to be rented to several. It keeps life interesting. Yet…I’ve paid more than I’ll ever earn.
Life is a vicious circle and breaking it is hard yet not impossible.



{She sits quietly; her conclusions circle round and round in her head. Suddenly}




CKIARA (Yells out) NO!

I will fight for my son’s spirit!

I’ve always known hate, love, positive thinking and negativity did not just happen. They were nurtured and passed on!!! His/her/their and our/my story and our reason for being on the planet; each has a purpose. But it seems most human beings are comfortable with repeating the same especially the negative aspects and indulge in the same tragedies controlling through fear overcoming by means of violence. Anger and ignorance are celebrated.
There is tolerance but no understanding.



{She remains silent the Screen of your mind goes blank}


………..
………….


……………

…………………

……………..

CKIARA. Now, both my loves existed only in my blood, the other a part of my soul from a past long ago. Now both just live in my heart and are always on my mind.
I craved, lusted and anything would do now so, I left and joined an Old brothel with the loveliest ladies one could meet. There I felt the true negative meaning of what people consider and the use the word "whore".




{She nods off, and then awakens; let’s give her time to come to life…She looks around and smiles at her guest. Then she begins to giggle and she resumes speaking.}




I realized as I gained experience that there’s nothing more powerful than to walk with truth even when nobody believes you.


{She remains in her, looks away with a faint smile, then turns to the direction of her mysterious guest!}


THERE IS SILENCE…





BR>



{She looks at her guest then says::::::::::::



CKIARA There are many great advantages and power women have but don’t always use it, or are ignorant of it or use it maliciously!
Women are made to believe we are not beautiful unless we look a certain way. Then we dislike ourselves and envy our fellow sisters. (gesturing with her hands) On the one hand, men have their physical strength, if intelligence or politics keep them from eating or what they need; their bodies and their strength is what they solicit; just walk or drive down any street where you might find homeless workers, undocumented immigrants or vagabonds. You drive up in your car and have them hop in to the car, to do some kind of physical labor! Sex is a physical and enjoyable labor! All though I do not condone street walking!
Men use all their natural gifts and no one gripes!
CKIARA (looking at her hands) on the other hand, some women like me are left to carry the responsibility of birth and rearing, followed by the financial burdens and nurturing a child needs. Needless to say nature balanced it out by making men physically strong and women sexually irresistible to heterosexual and bisexual men.
Yet only a small number of women can actually do sex work, when used with a little empathy, understanding that men have a need for it and I don’t mean wham bang here's your money mamma. Some times it’s just for company, a soft feminine presence, or a dominating some what vicious vixen ordering and manipulating his every thought and move!


CKIARA (putting her hands together) that the genders, now I realize are learning from each other they are not so different.
Men like women are great in bed when trying to conquer, once done…their true colors come out and pleasing you is not the object anymore. That gets dull and we look for other thrills.
It all boils down to being loved, feeling admired, sex is a huge part of all of us, but not the all to the all, yet not of no importance.


{She looks at her guest in the dark corner of the room.}




Just think if one could stop judging and take the stigma and shame out of the sex profession, so many would come forward against human trafficking and things of that nature! Shame silences and creates chaos, fear of discovery and sometimes death. It would be a wonderful planet if you let me be and I let you be you and find some kind of middle once on common ground.


CKIARA (She sighs… Suddenly she stands on a chair and addresses her possessions). On to all species, god gave vaginas and penises, each adult person responsible for his or her own genitalia. Not a community property for everyone else to comment on or make plans for. One should mind one’s own shit! It will help prevent venereal diseases and social injustices.



In my minds eye and personal opinion, we all have our qualities and our worthlessness. It’s what makes us human? I think alot of societies forget about truth, the here and now, individuality, humanity and evolution.
Most practice prehistoric rituals, thoughts, practices; customs that are not geared towards understanding, growth and most of all Love but punishment, fear, ignorance of the self and others, loathing and aspire to a divinity that is harsh and unnatural and impossible inside the human body, emotions.



{Ckiara steps down from the chair and continues her address. She looks across the room, the television speaks but there is no response from the intended.}




CKIARA (while envisioning her thoughts, smiles and her tone is dreamy). I see our place in nature as not superior, but caretakers a part of all that is on and in the earth, along with our own and personal individuality. Instead it is forgotten, so forgotten and hidden that it’s lost. I live for the approval of others and never trust my own judgment and fear to feel, to believe and stand strongly and if need be alone. I am at a loss of spirit (not religion) and my connection with me in other realms, the universe and the appreciation for each individual’s purpose on the earth as a whole, the combination of each individual doing their part without greed, ego, impositions and dirty completion.
To seek truth and live it! I believe that’s where peace lies.


{She remains still and listens as though the crown of her head is a transmitter and she is receiving communication then continues reciting the message.}



CKIARA (serious) Instead I am conditioned to believe that sex is not spiritual; love is only for family and friends. Love most be earned not given! Sacrifice is the only way.
So, I decide to deny love even on to my own self. And allow others to shame me into believing the one connection that all other species have that which desegregates and make us one, the beginning, the connection the passage to the beginning of living, Intercourse, sex, procreation, joy, attraction and of course just the action to relieve some stress and a little moment of joy from the cruelness of life. It’s like the magic of that penetration and release of seeds into the soil that leads to life or exquisite joy. That which is old as time and probably caused time to be birthed!
Even objects, machinery like people must connect, to make light or give life. A plug is useless without the socket and inside the socket.
In my mind’s eye creation probably started with the earth feeling it so she entices father sky with a song:


Hello my sweet



{Ckiara’s echoes through the space}

BR>
It’s been a while since we last spoke
Seen or anything of each other
Now I sit here sick from famine
That is the lack of your emotions
To need to feel the flesh I crave and lust
Fill me with your brand of gluten
And end my hunger
I am sick
Ill my dear
I weaken every day
And only your brand of medicine can cure me
Make me a river and end my thirst
Quench it with your mouth on mine
I am the earth and I’ve made you the universe
My God!
Please I beg you!
Allow me to be
As you mold me new and stronger
Watch my growth
Indulge and play with me tonight
Like an animal in heat
Smell my scent and chase me down!!!!
Take me!!!!!!!
Watch me boil
Then release your seeds in to my soil
Implant in me your material
Physical being and
I shall make us one
A combination of what we are
Spirit matter
So very universal and physically alone
In your eyes I'd be a creator
Your goddess and you my god
But to my sorrow
I still lay here sick from famine
Oh,
It aches when I am starved
Won’t you take this hunger?
That only you can satisfy!










The emotions that welled up within me were almost too much as I thought back to the examination of the state of my virginity, the pedophile, the fat man, and now, these two gentle people bathing each other, as they bathed me.
I left them and entered into a reverie.
Sadness touched my soul, but joy as well, as I thought of a love I had once had, a love that I was only able to love in spirit at that time. Yet, I knew we loved each other in another life, as well as in spirit, because he proved it to me yet I was not quick enough to respond so…
For always…for me this feeling is infinite.
Even if he caused a great spear to go through my heart though I know, he believes I threw it first…so some times, from my subconscious my soul speaks to his…



IT SAYS::::::::



{There is silence in the now candlelit room…Ckiara looks up and looks across the room in the direction of her guest. She has a troubled look on her face. The candles are hit by wind and there is darkness}





{A female voice in the dark is all your eyes hear}











CKIARA’S HEART SINGS
I KNOW NOT HEARTBREAK
I’VE
KEPT THE GATES LOCKED
THREW THE KEY OUT
IN THE PLACE WHERE ONLY GODDESSES AND GODS DARE TO WALK
FOR I’VE ALWAYS KNOWN
THE ONE THAT WAS CHOSEN FOR ME TO LOVE
AND HE TOO KNOWS
BUT THAT’S ABOUT IT

OH, YES
SO, CKIARA’S HEART SINGS TO YOU
JINGLE BOY BLUE
I KNOW TO LOVE
YET
TO RECEIVE I AM HEADSTRONG!
AS I WALK THROUGH LAVENDER FIELDS
IN A STATE OF NAKEDNESS
THROUGH A MIST OF LIGHT
BRILLIANT PURPLISH BLUE PETALS

I LAY UPON SPIKES OF LILAC FLOWERS
TO HAVE MY BODY SCENTED
SO THAT MANY MAY TOUCH
MY SOFT FEMININITY AND INHALE PARADISE
BUT
MY HEART’S GIRLISH SHYNESS AND INEXPERIENCE
DO SHOW
YET
THE SHE IN ME IS ROUGH, DEEPLY ROOTED AND COURAGEOUS

SO, WOULD YOU MIND MY …MY…
THAT IS, SINCE YOU’RE NOT HERE AND ALL
IF I AM THIS HERE DAME…………..
………………………..
RENTS HERSELF AWAY


OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHhhhhhhhhhh

YOU SEE
WHILE OTHER LADIES DO KNEEL AND PRAY
FOR CHASTITY AND FORGIVENESS
AS THEY REPENT
WELL SEE…
WHILE ON MY KNEES I DO NOT SPEAK
BUT HEAR GROANS OF THOSE WHO TOWER OVER ME
WHILE FEEDING ME THEIR PLEASURE TREATS
MORE CUCUMBERS, CASSAVAS AND MUSSELS
YOU KNOW, THINGS OF THAT NATURE

AND, OH YES, IT IS FEEDING TIME

YOU MUST ADORN MY TABLE WITH ORCHIDS
THEY ARE SO SWEET INSIDE
FOR DESERT I’LL GLIDE IN WITH MY TONGUE
THEN
LIKE A HUMMING BIRD
I’LL
QUENCH
MY THIRST WITH DROPS OF HER




I SAY SHAMELESSLY WITHOUT REMORSE
YES, I AM THE OWNER OF MY BODY
FOR THERE’S TRANQUILITY IN MY SOUL
THOUGH HUMANKIND MAY TORTURE IT.
I KNOW ME
AND
THEY DON’T
THEIR THOUGHTS
THEY HOLD NO WATER WHEN I’M DEHYDRATED AND THIRSTY
MY OWN MIND HAS TRIED TO CONVINCE MY HEART
THAT SHE (ME) KNOWS NOT YOURS
BECAUSE WE KNOW NOT LOVE
THE WAY MANKIND WOULD LIKE TO THINK THEY CAN DIRECT IT
HEY!

I WISH I COULD UNDRESS FOR ONLY YOU!
I AM A CREATURE OF THE NIGHT
BY DAY, I HIDE WHERE THE SHADOWS CAN’T BE SEEN
I AM A CREATURE OF LOVE
BUT
I’VE ENDURED MUCH ENVY AND HATE
EVEN MALICIOUS INTENT
EVEN SO, I HOLD NO GRUDGES
ALL
IS FORGIVEN
EXCEPT
FOR THOSE THAT HARM THE YOUNG INNOCENTS
I LIVE IN DREAMS
DREAMS I MAKE REAL
BUT MUST CONCEAL
I CANNOT REVEAL

ANYMORE
OF
WHAT I FEEL
FOR THE REST CAN’T RELATE
AND LIKE ONLY TO DISGRACE ME
OR

BRAINWASH ME
FORCE ME TO THEIR PRESENT DARK AGE DAYS
AND WATCH US HERE IN THIS TIME
AS WE BEAT, KICK, YELL AT INANIMATE THINGS
AND PEOPLE, TOO
WHEN ONE CAN’T RELATE OR CONTROL

OH, YES, CKIARA’S HEART WILL SING AGAIN

I KNOW NOT LOVE
IN THE INTIMATE SENSE
BETWEEN YOU AND ME
BUT, I KNOW HEARTBREAK
WHEN I SEE WHAT I SEE
HEAR WHAT I HEAR
EXPERIENCE WHAT I’VE EXPERIENCED
AND
FROM THE MAN I LOVE SO DEEPLY
MY LOVE SO STRONG IT TOUCHED AND REACHED HIM
BEFORE I PHYSICALLY COULD

AND WHEN I DID
OUR EYES TRULY MET
AND THAT WAS IT!
I KNOW AND FEEL HIS HANDS ARE TIED
AND ALL I DO
HAS BEEN WRITTEN………………………



Indeed……………………




And………………………………







CLOSE THE CURTAINS… (READER) That are your eyelids….



BR>





{ She’s in her kitchen (reader) she measures spices and ingredients and turns on the ranges placing sauce and frying pans upon the orange, yellowish, red flames. She remains silent by the expression on her face you can see she is still jabbering internally then it escapes}



CKIARA. I have learned that just a simple “look” can be one of life’s most erotic experiences. It can bring my pussy, the chalice that is my vagina, to life. And, there are times when my Truth comes to life, as my pussy becomes hot, wet, and ready for many sensations including, but definitely not limited to, the simple “in-an-out and in-and-out” of the “respectable” world as well as the standard fare of much of “modern” pornography.
CKIARA (shaking her head negatively). I am not god fearing for monsters are to be feared and hated but positivisms; goodness, love, and appreciation come from empathy, respect and understanding to have the unconditional love for our fellow beings that the universe has for us is what I have!
I know the creator loves us as we truly are.
My inner voice are the angels that surround me, they are my guides, my teachers.
Because when it really comes down to it! When even you cannot find an important document or its life or death the voice inside always comes through with positive rewards and from lesson we learn. But to understand is hard or ignorable!
Forgiveness is hard but necessary.

CKIARA (continues) then more Important. I am not God fearing, because I know the Goddess within.
I am not God fearing I respect God, the universal one, the All….
It touches, soothes us individually. I respect all forms of thought and all though I may not always agree; I have found a way to voice and act on my own convictions, and notions, in a creative manner. And appreciate others no matter how ridiculous I think it or they are, or one is.
CKIARA (walks around her space) I have not only come to understand the Goddess within myself and other women, and myself but I have come to better understand the male (and their God selves) of our species. I use to despise men! Now, I see them, as the human beings, filled with emotions and all the wonderful creators they are, they love to be needed, be heroic and kind, they too are nurturing and want not to hurt or be hurt! They love to give and some want to understand.
Those that I’ve run into have shaped my opinions to the positive of male humans, those that are, and have befriended me, I thank the universe for our encounters, but men still have a long way to go (when it comes to their preconceived ideal of women) as well as women need to break free and just be their selves with out fear of reprise. With all the technology, humanity is still so far behind.
CKIARA (sits and stands repeatedly) If with our selves we can not be kind and accepting, also honest and truthful then I feel love (god) has a hard time existing in us… love starts with me and it takes time and alot of effort to get to know myself while still aware and conscious that I am surrounded by my fellow me who deserve all that the me wants for me.

When I took time to realize that I am part of mother earth and all that lives is part of me. I began to understand and learn that tragedies will forever be a part of life and the only peace due to me is in knowing I’m going through it like all other living things.
I have learned to grieve but not dwell. To recycle and turn the old and negative into light, positive, love and to always add the new to what’s ancient and still serves all beings alike. I will always do all things as a creation of self-expressions and personal signature. And appreciate that of others and mostly learn and understand as much as I can, because that is where the peace begins with me then my fellow human. I will create a new future full of love, acceptance, respect and understanding.


{Your mind (reader) goes totally blank}


{She looks, giggles and speaks to her guest}



CKIARA Look Dickey One, I believe that I have some defects and according to society’s standard might deem me in “need of some therapy.” But I’m comfortable with my body, mind and spirit. I know without this lifetime of experiences, how ever traumatic… I’d not be me!
I am delightfully insane!


{She looks at her guest}



Right Dickey One?




{She sighs and laughs and laughs and cannot stop…}


CKIARA (stops laughing and speaks at her guest) Oh darling my welcome has become overwhelming hasn’t it?
I’d like you to overwhelm me, when I’m done speaking…
Anyway…
The best thing I know I can give my son by my example is to have stamina, perseverance, truth and to trust his own judgment. To not cry about something being difficult and not easy, because those are the very things that mold one and stick out in ones mind. They are the food for thought, strength for heart, and endurance for the body and to remember that he always has choice. What he does with his spirit is either to do it for the highest good or he can depart from it and recklessly, continue the chain of abuse and ignorance. It’s in the make up of human beings it seems.



{She stands and exclaims}



CKIARA (addresses an imaginary crowd). Let them Call me Whore or call me Contessa, call me Priestess or call me Witch!
Call me Princess or Crazy because in me, all are both part of the Goddess!
Yes, all!
For I am all and I am nothing
Never think of me as “normal.”
Never!
I know what makes an orchid wet and a cock-a doodle
stand up.
And, perhaps more importantly, I know that eroticism can occur without either happening...
Indeed, eroticism is like a tapestry of many colors and images….
Everyone’s preference is different.
There are ones that disgust one and there are ones that tell a person
you are one in a million!!!!!!

Then there are ones that want to tell the truth, but can’t for they are harmed or will be if they continue telling the truth!!!!



{She looks up away from the stove as she reaches for the chopped onions and garlic and places them in the hot frying pan.}




How have I come to this?
Where have I found this knowledge?That is darling if you had the balls.



{She giggles}



I have found it in my growth out of a repressed girlhood, my travels,
and my life experiences my indulgence with men, women and machines... and in that place of taboo, the Sex Industry.
Indeed, today, I find that despite the barriers which have come down
since the over-rated sixties and seventies, lawyers,
politicians and sometimes even ax- murderers can be regarded as respectable,
but those of us who work with erotic or sexual pleasure which is beyond society’s confining boundaries cannot.
I break no laws, but I do not believe that laws should govern pleasure or personal appetites.
I feel and love all! But, especially, in my heart sex workers, for to be
a sex worker, you must have unbelievable courage, strength, self
(conscious of it or not) and love… As women, sex workers are only
working the profession inherited from nature.BR> Like men use their natural inheritance physical strength, construction and such.
For those who love the sex profession it’s great and some times just for
others, the profession is a means to an end. Yet, we are condemned
for making good on what god gave us. They say that sex work leads to drugs and abuse. The drugs and abuse are sometimes from the shame forced upon one, the isolation from and by family and society, which hurts the very sensitive beings of those who are closer to God than they themselves imagine, and if we don’t feel shame, we pay a man-made penance.




Sex workers!!!
I hope that very soon we can see justice and get the respect we once had long ago before the patriarchal conquest. There really is no need to go on and on about the past. It’s really just useful as a reminder of the things good that worked in the past that maybe should be applied.


{She turns and smirks at her unseen guest.}


I think most Sex workers do this work out of love more so than the money, it is a love that’s needed.
For all those who need to lie or make assumptions to validate their point...
Well, they have none! In fact all they have is delusions.
As diversity in the world is a fact. We are becoming [more a mesh of different rules and ways of thoughts apply]. Sayings: like this my country or that’s just the way it is pure laziness on whom ever it is that spews such deliberate ignorance! As a world we are becoming more culturally, custom, traditionally, religiously, diversely aware. From individual to individual we vary in opinion convictions thoughts and such….We are growing...
Yet again I’ll point out, we are still stuck in the times of the birth of Christianity, Judaism and Islam, (nothing against them) yet all the shame, guilt, and wrong doings, of sex, the acts, preference and gender. Where planted by the men in charge of those religions and beliefs. If an adult individual decides to continue ancient practices with all the information and education out on the planet. Then fine it’s all up to the individual.

No one in the present lived in those times and most ancient literature and history is usally written by the victor. It becomes a crime and harms another on so many levels, to impose ones convictions, opinions, religions, beliefs and even laws when it comes to personal taste, preference…personal freedom. Imposing self righteousness, and acts, hiding behind the law is legal rape…especially when one goes through illicit, illegal, slanderous, & malicious means to validate and force ones “morality on another. When that happens one becomes a criminal and has no rights, validation or recognition or any sort of consideration in my eyes….
When it comes to the subject of sex, the level of immaturity in adults is “mind boggling.” The audacity to dictate to another their own preference, how to and how many times, what you can and cannot like?!
There is still a world out there, our brothers and sisters in other nations, need heroes like in the police department, task force and all other levels of heroic jobs!
Force feeding an illusion, an unrighteous delusion is insane! Not brilliant, just psychopathically insane. “We have evolved enough, as human beings, as individuals; there is no need to enforce a universal dictatorship of morals to all.
Morality principle and values can be purely an individual choice and it is up to us, to decide our own!








Ercell Valcina Fleurima was born in Guatemala.Her father is an ex-French/Haitian military general and her mother a Miskitu/Nicaraguan in exile. She currently resides in the United States.

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