it’s so ironic that i used that picture on Foxhole stories the day of the met gala.
i loved the outfit and thought the model was handsome.
in my creativity,
i duct taped that pic with a fox head and fonted:

“attending the Met Gala in spirit.”

i saw this tiktok about the model in the actual picture,
even though he is the face of the promo for the met gala this year,
he is actually working a 9-5 or a 6-9.

This is the reality of many of us who haven’t given up.

what self help tiktok or manifestation twitter doesn’t tell you…

hope is one of my bad words now.
its a passive word.

“I hope he will stop cheating on me.” He won’t.
“I hope this scammer will send me a video for 100 dollars.” No chance in hell.
“I hope this job will appreciate how hard I work.” They won’t.
“I hope I will become a millionaire.” You may or may not depending on God’s plan.

imo.
it’s a word formed in fantasy and dilutes reality.
for example:

A “hopeless romantic” is someone who keeps getting played over and over because they are confusing love with fantasy.

i have had hope for a lot of things,
especially when it came to other males interest that i wasn’t sure about.

“I hope this dude will finally see me the way I see him.”

…and years later,
i was still holding onto hope of a fantasy that never manifested.
i’ve learned another word and im gon’ share it with The Foxhole…

this is a warning to anyone.
but especially these lost and lazy straight males,
who decide to give sex work a shot.
news flash:

Many of the attentionistos,
personal trainers,
aspiring __,
and whatever can be put in a “about me” are giving more than digital dick.

there is nothing wrong with getting paid to test drive a muscle bawdy.
some males are making bread doing lightweight escorting.
after that last entry,
these lost and sometimes lazy males have to be careful…

i was fonting with that wolf i met in the group chat the other night.
he asked me:

“With everything you went through,
are you ruthless with the way you are with people?
I am.
If someone does anything to hurt me,
I go off.”

my response…

a season of ghosting,
or aka season of isolation,
is not the kind where you just need a weekend to recharge.
it’s the kind that sneaks up after a breakup,
a major disappointment,
job loss,
or losing someone you love.
suddenly,
you don’t feel like doing anything or being around anyone.
this season can last days,
weeks,
and sometimes,
it can last for even years.
i accepted that i’ve been in my ghosting era for a while now…

There is a scene in sex and the city where Carrie fucks someone’s husband.
That someone’s husband,
Mr. Big,
was the love of her life.
The victim was the vixen,
Natasha,
that he chose after he broke up with carrie.
Whenever Carrie saw Natasha,
she did everything to get her forgiveness.
Natasha wanted nothing to do with it or Carrie.
Every time she sees Carrie,
her body language makes it perfectly clear she hates her.

someone said something about this situation that blew me away.
they said it wasn’t that carrie was sorry about the situation.
she didn’t give a fuck she fucked mr. big in their bed and got caught.
the real issue is…