yesterday was sensual. i had both the butterfly + yoni piercings done. it was weeee! so sensual and personal. i was albeit surprised. i had earlier armed myself with the company of my recent befriended bujo who is covered with alot of ink and drawings on his body.however, i woke up in the morning. fidgeting like a nonesence. and got in the bus and rode it to some inconspicious location where there is a shop that specialises in body art. i got lost instead. it was hot. i was thirsty and beginning to doubt whether i'd pull it off. i got back into another bus. surveyed the faces around me. a white policewoman. her friend. older. white talking with her. the bus driver. heavy kinda overweight.black.with a bottle of juice right next to her. another woman. hispanic/latina (?) looking with her child. a girl. a teenage girl wearing jean dungarees and looking as cute as a button. and i remembered how i so badly wanted to get this done. so i stopped at this shop. small.quaint looking. and had the nicest conversations with a guy called jason. who light an incense as i listened to aphex twins while floating away and feeling rather orgasmic.

the hood piercing was such a deep archiac need. after reading this several years back. i often struggled on how i saw my yoni + the perceptions of society and mainly the women in my family. both my paternal and maternal grandmothers have had their labia interfered with one way or another. it's shrouded in secrecy.this sadens me greatly. in some twisted jungian way, i'm celebrating the vulvas that have gone before me.