Happy festive season all as we near the end of the year and welcome to my latest newsletter.
Photo by Boneca London.
When events opened up again around Halloween, I was thrown back into action with my ‘Psychic Simret,’ act and got to work at a few club nights and even some pre-Christmas psychic events.
Inspired by my return to psychic work, I even wrote a short paranormal erotica audio-visual story called ‘The Cursed Crystal Ball,’ which you can find exclusively on my Buy Me A Coffee page. Please feel free to donate and just know that all my work on Buy Me A Coffee and in this newsletter are exclusive!
I also produced a little promotional video showing me working at the Boneca London 'Theatre Des Vampires,’ event, organised by Third Mind Productions. Here, you can see me doing some tarot, crystal ball scrying and good old fashioned dead bell ringing! Check out my blog and watch the video here.
I’m very lucky to have friends, family and even fellow performers who gift me clothes from time to time. Many items have served me well, some are more than fifteen years old and still going strong!
Whilst doing a clear out, I realised that nearly all of my PVC garments were actually given to me. This certainly got me thinking, and I decided to pull out more of my ‘risqué,’ clothing and reacquaint myself with those borrowed goods!
Please enjoy my film below, where I perform an erotic gory neo-ASMR piece about my lovely clothes.
‘I used to have a waist like yours…’ or ‘My hair was long and thick once too,’ are comments I’ve heard from many senior people over the years. Whether it was relatives or my grandparents friends, I was always surrounded by the comforting chatter and jeer from my elders.
Even today, you just have to walk down the street, or sit in a cafe and you can listen to seniors talk about beauty, their bodies or the past in general - it can be quite funny at times or solemn too.
I remember hearing funny conversations about sex from my grandma, and it made me realise that some of us no matter what age will never loose our drive.
Recently, I watched Grace and Frankie and was absolutely glued to the series where they invent a vibrator for seniors and tackled sex in such a humorous and touching way.
Sex is sex, our bodies change and so does the way we might have it, but it doesn’t mean we don’t fantasise or want to stop exploring.
It spurred an idea for a story I had about a woman who was a few centuries old which let’s face it, could happen one day (maybe it has already somewhere in the world). Humanity is living longer and despite our current pandemic, the new generation of seniors are adapting. Some of our elders use the latest technologies to connect with people and many are super aware about their health and wellbeing. A few months ago, I even interviewed the oldest skydiver in the world, his name is Al Blaschke and he skydived at 103-years-old. He still wants to travel around the world and had some advice in terms of keeping fit.
And eight years ago when my grandma was still alive, she asked for a mobile phone on her 96th birthday! I still communicate with one of her closest friends who’s eighty-three-years-old on WhatsApp.
Going back to my story, I thought about all the negative/darker things associated with sex and ageism, mostly fears I’ve heard from others or even fears of my own and I wrote a fictionalised story surrounding these themes.
Below, is the audio-visual film version of my story and you can also read it further down.
Cherish those locks, your lips and slender.
Because it won't be there forever my dear.
This is what her elders always told her.
And never did she think the day would appear.
Soft skin and narrow hips, full mouth and gleaming teeth,
Eyes so round and alluring, full of beauty indeed,
She had devoured many men and women flesh upon flesh,
She had them all, never-ending ecstasy and nothing less.
But then came the day when her body still felt but her looks weren't so,
Yet she throbbed and ached to be touched below.
The age had got her, centuries in fact,
She wreaked of death and even wished for that.
Her time hadn't come but she needed the fiddle,
Even if it didn't appear she could ride the saddle.
So she tricked the youth and lured them in,
Call me granny and let the fun begin.
She held them captive and took her pleasures,
And so they saw her craving rapture.
Terrified by the bodily difference,
Yet repulsed by the nefarious instance,
Once she was done she let them free,
But unfortunately for them all was never unseen.
But one day a young ‘un would return, and break her bones and crush her skull.
He would rid her of her throbbing sex,
In a way that she would most definitely regret.
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