It’s been just over 6 days since I arrived in Hollywood and everything went better than expected.
I had my little LAX sleepover and found an apartment no more than 7 hours off the metro, very thankful for that, I was the first to get to the place. Very fortunate. I moved in the same day, had a place to sleep and didn’t have to pay for a motel or anything. I was literally crying tears of happiness that first night, it was like, wow, that worked, I made it.
I landed in LA with some cash tucked into the back of my jeans, a teddy bear and a suitcase. I found places where it’s ok to hangout until I found a place, funny how a hundred dollar bill changes a waitresses opinion of you. I really had no idea that it would be this easy. It could/should have been much more dramatic, honestly I was expecting the worst, scary motels and imposing my travel worn self on friends, traveling up to SF to wait until the 1st, buying a car and living in it, all these extraneous scenarios. I never expected to find a perfect little place and to move in the same day into my own private little room. I can close my door and lock it at night, knowing that I own that space. For this delocated auburn haired young woman, it feels so good to open my door, close it, lock it, be secure. I can leave late at night or early in the morning and not bother anyone, it’s an awful neighborhood but it’s literally Hollywood compared to the South South Bronx, I feel safe, thats enough for me. I’m so happy thatn everything went better than expected… I was ready for the hard times but maybe i’ve already paid my dues, caught a break this time.
The first night at my place felt the my last night of a long, long tour. I didn’t have sheets on my bed, the place came furnished which was a big plus but I didn’t want to sleep on this strange bed. I put on all my jackets and pajamas and used my bear as a pillow, much as I had done the night before at LAX. Comfortable would not be a way to describe that night, but it had to happen for a couple reasons aside from a foreign bed and no sheets. First, I always sleep on the floor of my apartment the first night so I can connect with the space, it’s a weird habit but it makes the place feel like its mine… I’m all about weird habits ❤ I'd say the main part that cheered me up was lying on the floor in my hobo attire, thinking, "hooray! This may be the last night I have to sleep on floors and couches, I'll have my own bed!" That thought felt so good, you'd have to been in my shoes to really understand, no alliteration can describe that feeling of warmth, of safety on the cold floor of my new home. Home, like Love, is a word i'm finally starting to feel comfortable using. I ate a sandwich with mayonnaise on it. Sounds silly, but that's the first time I have without getting grossed out, at a young age I made the stern decision against mayonnaise, and a particularly traumatic experience with macaroni salad solidified my disgust. I can't remember much of my early 20's, or of my childhood, but I sure as hell remember my stepfather forcing me to eat macaroni salad… if you haven't picked up on this from the last few posts, my stepfather lacked compassion (was a total dick). Exploring is all about, well, exploring, and as it turns out, this gooey substance that I despised turned out to be pretty good on a roast beef panini, seems the sandwich eating community had the right idea. I wonder what else I've been missing out on? I've heard heroin and face tattoos are pretty cool too… All kidding aside, l'm not going to go crazy here in Hollywood, I know the perception is that the lights etc change a person, but you can trust that my sense of self will be in tact… I may do things that are uncharacteristic of a sweet little girl, I'm a complicated young woman, and I find (and constantly search) for balance in life, and know that for every mature, adult action I take, there's the heart of a little girl pulling the strings. I've always said I'll retire as a submissive, as someones little girl, and for now I'll explore the full spectrum of my sexuality, the top, the mommy, the teenage riot, the raw sexual being who transcends state and gender lines, the pornographer and model, a physical embodiment of kink. I'm in the right place to make the worlds best pornography, and get the behind/in front of the camera experience that is going to take me places I only had only dreamt about while dozing off in Film&Literature class. "Hey Riley, just don't get cocky, don't forget your origins, don't forget your kind heart and love for every living thing”
Every time I walk by a mirror i can’t help but look at myself (modeling)
Every time I look at myself I can’t help repeat my mantra.. stay sane, stay positive (activism)
Stay Diapered and Stay kinky (blogging)
Don’t let anybody number #2 on the fact that you’re #1 (life)
I love life, I love myself as a semi-sweet adult and a semi-adult sweetheart, I’m happy and right and good, practicing my ideal ideas. I know it can come off as insincere because I’m writing to a group, a select few wont skip over this block of text and get my little message… I love and cherish anyone who has thought of me or written in support, I feel like Wendy from Peter Pan, brought back to a healthy state by the claps of a million ABDl or transpeople, they brought this little pixie girl back to life through her hard times so long ago, and I’ll always be by your side, rooting you on 🙂
I’m being silly and my alliteration is close to illiterate, I’m just going to step away from my little touch keoybiard and end this post with sweet, loving thoughts from the west coast, and
(The caps and the spacing just made me this post that much more SRS)