One minute you could be living an average Joe socially accepted lifestyle, a full time mature student for example, cohabiting with a partner blah blah blah you know the rest…walking in the same shoes as many before you , a basic Rebock classic for instance. The next moment, your world shatters before your eyes, the love of your life runs off with some next bitch, and your broke ass is in 9 inch platform ankle breakers you brought from a lady of the night in Thailand on your gap year. Now nothing but some desired eye candy for a shallow minded customer, you’re swinging round a pole for, till the early hours of the morning in a backstreet West End strip club. I don’t think any of us ever actually thought we would be that girl, it certainly didnt make it on my bucket list, to try and make broke look beautiful . Sometimes the hardest thing to do in this world is live in it .
You don’t always anticipate the bumps on the road of life ahead. I have been living fast, and many times, been close to dying young. Just a product of my environment, trying to stay afloat in the class hierarchy of the concrete jungle. Mean while still a bass warrior, chasing the come ups, light so blind in my eyes, but never losing sight of my dream. Although the struggle was real, on my commute home through the twilight hours of dawn when I should have been tucked in bed, everyone was on their way to work, it was amazing how far I felt away from the rest of the world. when in reality, its rush hour on the tube and im almost snug under some mummas arm pit.
With my head in purple haze clouds, and my feet on the wrong kind of stage, the music is, and has always been my hero, my escape, my way out to a universe I have created for myself to seek solitude and find balance.
But even this has found me in somewhat life threatening gang musical politics. No one warned me of the saying, if you are that thirsty for opportunity, you may find yourself drinking from the cup of poison. I blindly walked in to the fires of narm, postcode wars with open arms, with no ‘Naja’ ‘intentions.
It was all so cliché, starting with, what I considered my first real heart-break. Don’t get it twisted, there had been a fair few before him, I was 24 when I fell head over heels, this love went deep, they say the more you love, the more your able to love, and boy did I love him, more than I may ever allow myself to love again.
The break up was rather peak circumstances, and this is what sparked the flame of self-destruct inside of me. I tried to take the advice of an old friend, the typical rebound theory, “can’t get over him, get under someone else”, but that couldn’t have proved wronger, nothing but disaster time after time, another lesson learnt.
To make matters worse, our break up left me in financial turmoil, just a full-time law student, trying to make it out on my own in the booky boroughs of south London. My lack of income and spare time away from the library and my studies, were never going to reach out to be able support the cost of his side of the rent. I had to figure out a legal (although the temptation was real) way to cut corners, I needed a hustle, and quick time, otherwise I was going to be out on my ass or fail my exams.
Behind my smile and beneath my clothes is where the secret alter ego, double life of Pixie hid. I look back and wonder if working for one of London’s biggest strip clubs, dancing with the darkness was really the right answer. At the time, having my head nearly two years deep into the debts of my degree, 24/7 o clock, like a rat on speed as I faced the year’s final exams, on a mad one from the break up, I was truly in a different zone and im not proud to say it , but , it’s the path that I chose. I had always been used to using music as my escape, in a different sense of the word, but, how difficult could it be?!.
I walked in to that place a girl, so naïve. Truly believing it would be as easy as dancing around for a bit of cash, little did know there would be politics as complicated as I found. Don’t get me wrong, the cash sure did flow, but so did the dark energy, like a moth to the flame. All eyes on me, my skin had to be thick it violated my aura and my mind. So much so I separated it from “real life” in my head and I became desensitized from emotion, basically the walking dead. Almost physically conjuring up a storm like shadow rain cloud that attached its self to my spirit.
Sometimes it is only when you are forced to deal with somthing , you start to pay attention .Now understanding the laws of attraction and applying them in my case, I understand how one decision had the power to manifest a series of catastrophically unlucky events, dark beings and unsavoury situations. Trapping me in the underworld of the city that never sleeps.
Is it true to say that nothing can stop a shooting star?
Follow the free spirit through a harrowing unconventional journey, revealing the untold secrets of a strippers diary. An aspiring musician, through the ends and underworld of London, adventuring the globe, astral realms, collaborating with various artists, working with high-profile celebrities and meeting too many men, too many waste men #F*ckBoyEpademic.
Without the darkness we wouldn’t see stars shine .