“Cola (Pussy)“
Lana Del Ray
My pussy taste like Pepsi-Cola,
My eyes are wide like cherry pies.
I gots a taste for men who're older
It's always been, so it's no surprise.
Ah, he's in the sky with diamonds and he's making me crazy (I come alive, alive)
All he wants to do is party with his pretty baby.
Come on, baby, let's ride
We can escape to the great sunshine.
I know your wife, and she wouldn't mind
We made it out to the other side
Come on, baby.
I fall asleep in an American flag
I wear my diamonds on skid row
I pledge allegiance to my dad
For teaching me everything he knows
Ah, he's in the sky with diamonds and he's making me crazy (I come alive, alive))
All he wants to do is party with his pretty baby
Come on, baby, let's ride,
We can escape to the great sunshine.
I know your wife, and she wouldn't mind
We made it out to the other side
Drugs suck it up
Like vanilla icies
Don’t treat me rough,
Treat me really niceys
Decorate my neck
Diamantes ices
Why, come on, come on
Come on baby, let’s ride
We can escape to the great sunshine
I know your wife, and she wouldn’t mind
We made it out to the other side
Come on baby, let’s ride
We can escape to the great sunshine
We made it out to the other side
Come on, come on
Come on, baby
My pussy taste like Pepsi-Cola
*the repeated lyrics have been cut out to save space…
But what if the other side is the wrong side? The side we shouldn't have crossed the line on? The wrong dawn to chase in the wrong direction? The wrong paths always seems the prettiest until you’re face down in a pile of your own sick, carving flight details into a coffee table and all the glamour and pretty people are gone. The wrong road always flips the car. The fun never lasts forever.
Now on a side note, this type of music isn't my style, but after hearing this song, it's been in my head for a spell now. It appealed to me and made me uncomfortable at the same time. It reminded me of my early days in NY, the days before I became the slithering addict that no longer went to glamorous parties or apartments and used alone or with a shit boyfriend who was the only one who could stand me because we were both just as bad.
This was my old life, similar to the song, before the “fun” stopped. Which is in my first book, Hi Have You Met Me. Older men, chasing me for an escape, wanting to give me it all, giving a shit about the "finer" things in life, drugs, sex, adventure. Knowing with a smile and a smirk I could get whatever I wanted in my past dark life, because well, that's the power of a sweet pussy with an attitude that doesn't give a fuck. That was me 5 years ago.
That was me stumbling out of a 3k a month apartment of a man who had a girlfriend and good drugs who I'd party with when she was away. Sunglasses on at 5 in the afternoon realizing it was time for bed in a fur coat, 7 inch $1,800 heels, leather pants and a sheer designer top. Looking for a cab to get me home so I could pass out after 8 hours of putting high quality drugs up my nose.
That was me never waiting in lines at nightclubs, never paying for the bottles of vintage Dom and sitting at the best table. That was me never paying for drugs and playing coy with the idiot men that wanted to fuck me that just would hand over whatever they had just in hopes to get some. Which the key was never to give it up, that’s the thing about sweet pussy, never give it up and everything gets put in the palm of your hand for that hope that one day they’ll get it. Not good advice, a poor choice, but it’s the truth. I knew what I was doing. And I knew it was wrong, but at the time I didn’t care.
That was me at that time thinking I was important. That I was invincible. That I was god. I was the it girl in Manhattan that had it all. When really I had nothing. Nothing but a bloody nose, a habit that turned into a horrendous addiction that for a while I kept hidden from the pretty people, until I was no longer welcome. When the car crashed.
Limos. A designer wardrobe I could easily afford from modeling jobs. The best liquor other people's money could buy. The best cocaine on the East Coast and other women's men to play to get high and not get emotionally connected and a good fuck when I felt like it.
I was hollow. I didn't have a shadow, I wasn't human enough. I was invisible to myself and who I was. I knew, but I kept it away.
And like all pretty things, eventually they break like an old porcelain doll. The crystal chandelier comes crashing down into hundreds of thousands of pieces. There's nothing left. There's nothing inside a hollow life. The crystal fragments have to be picked up and thrown away. Cutting and sticking to you. A bloody mess. The day my chandelier of a life finally hit the ground, after rolling in its pieces trying to put it back together, I got my hands bloody. I scrapped the reconstruction process and started over. Fuck the chandelier, time to change.
From nothing, absolutely nothing, on my own. I got clean. One morning, waking up to a premonition the next time I used I'd be dead. I never used again after that. My first clean day, July 11th, 2011.
I used my expensive taste in designer wardrobes, shoes and handbag collections for another year. Compensating for the drugs and alcohol money I was no longer buring. Instead of saving, I could just by more shit. Weekly trips to Bergdorf I thought would help. That didn't fill the void. Eventually I lost my obsession. Not that I don't like nice things, I just don't overindulge as I used to. I no longer have that void to fill. Another hollow past time.
As far as men. Giving a shit, that took time. I quit doing that the past year and a half. The past 6 months I've been completely alone. No catch and release. No fucking around. No committed relationship like I tried for a year. 6 months of no sex and no men to distract me.
Much has changed in over three years now. I know what's important. And none of it is what I valued before.
I no longer have a sense of being god, but put here to do my service, help other people, get them answers and clean up the messes like I used to make.
I don't give a fuck about trivial shit. How much something costs. I no longer smile doing the tally of how much money is sunk into what I'm adorned in.
The thought of drugs and alcohol make me sick. The thought of them makes me angry. I can't stand people fucked up on them. And there is no way in hell I will ever go back down that road. I poured gasoline along that fucker and lit it on fire.
I've experience that bougie bullshit enough in this life, and trust me, it's not as fun as it seems, the wrong sparkly road to “happiness”. It almost killed me, all of my stupid past desires. And those desires, after my change of mind, will never again resurface. Once you see the flip side, the truth, there’s no going back.
I spent 13 years running to the other side, the wrong sunrise.
And that will never happen again. That girl is gone. And this drug, alcohol, promiscuous sex, bougie free woman is here, and here to stay.
And to be perfectly fucking honest, I wouldn't have it any other way and I've never been happier in my life. I'm no longer hollow, I'm full. Clean and determined. Nothing can stop me from driving into the right direction of my future. The real one. The clean one. The divine one. No more escaping. Only escalating towards the positive.
There are lessons to be learned from all mistakes, it’s just a matter of recognizing them, getting real with yourself and making the choice to turn it all around.
Blessed be
For further reading:
Hi, Have You Met Me? on Amazon/Kindle http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00B009W1M
There's No Good Campfires Left In Hell on Amazon/Kindle http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00H7CZ590
Lana Del Ray
My pussy taste like Pepsi-Cola,
My eyes are wide like cherry pies.
I gots a taste for men who're older
It's always been, so it's no surprise.
Ah, he's in the sky with diamonds and he's making me crazy (I come alive, alive)
All he wants to do is party with his pretty baby.
Come on, baby, let's ride
We can escape to the great sunshine.
I know your wife, and she wouldn't mind
We made it out to the other side
Come on, baby.
I fall asleep in an American flag
I wear my diamonds on skid row
I pledge allegiance to my dad
For teaching me everything he knows
Ah, he's in the sky with diamonds and he's making me crazy (I come alive, alive))
All he wants to do is party with his pretty baby
Come on, baby, let's ride,
We can escape to the great sunshine.
I know your wife, and she wouldn't mind
We made it out to the other side
Drugs suck it up
Like vanilla icies
Don’t treat me rough,
Treat me really niceys
Decorate my neck
Diamantes ices
Why, come on, come on
Come on baby, let’s ride
We can escape to the great sunshine
I know your wife, and she wouldn’t mind
We made it out to the other side
Come on baby, let’s ride
We can escape to the great sunshine
We made it out to the other side
Come on, come on
Come on, baby
My pussy taste like Pepsi-Cola
*the repeated lyrics have been cut out to save space…
But what if the other side is the wrong side? The side we shouldn't have crossed the line on? The wrong dawn to chase in the wrong direction? The wrong paths always seems the prettiest until you’re face down in a pile of your own sick, carving flight details into a coffee table and all the glamour and pretty people are gone. The wrong road always flips the car. The fun never lasts forever.
Now on a side note, this type of music isn't my style, but after hearing this song, it's been in my head for a spell now. It appealed to me and made me uncomfortable at the same time. It reminded me of my early days in NY, the days before I became the slithering addict that no longer went to glamorous parties or apartments and used alone or with a shit boyfriend who was the only one who could stand me because we were both just as bad.
This was my old life, similar to the song, before the “fun” stopped. Which is in my first book, Hi Have You Met Me. Older men, chasing me for an escape, wanting to give me it all, giving a shit about the "finer" things in life, drugs, sex, adventure. Knowing with a smile and a smirk I could get whatever I wanted in my past dark life, because well, that's the power of a sweet pussy with an attitude that doesn't give a fuck. That was me 5 years ago.
That was me stumbling out of a 3k a month apartment of a man who had a girlfriend and good drugs who I'd party with when she was away. Sunglasses on at 5 in the afternoon realizing it was time for bed in a fur coat, 7 inch $1,800 heels, leather pants and a sheer designer top. Looking for a cab to get me home so I could pass out after 8 hours of putting high quality drugs up my nose.
That was me never waiting in lines at nightclubs, never paying for the bottles of vintage Dom and sitting at the best table. That was me never paying for drugs and playing coy with the idiot men that wanted to fuck me that just would hand over whatever they had just in hopes to get some. Which the key was never to give it up, that’s the thing about sweet pussy, never give it up and everything gets put in the palm of your hand for that hope that one day they’ll get it. Not good advice, a poor choice, but it’s the truth. I knew what I was doing. And I knew it was wrong, but at the time I didn’t care.
That was me at that time thinking I was important. That I was invincible. That I was god. I was the it girl in Manhattan that had it all. When really I had nothing. Nothing but a bloody nose, a habit that turned into a horrendous addiction that for a while I kept hidden from the pretty people, until I was no longer welcome. When the car crashed.
Limos. A designer wardrobe I could easily afford from modeling jobs. The best liquor other people's money could buy. The best cocaine on the East Coast and other women's men to play to get high and not get emotionally connected and a good fuck when I felt like it.
I was hollow. I didn't have a shadow, I wasn't human enough. I was invisible to myself and who I was. I knew, but I kept it away.
And like all pretty things, eventually they break like an old porcelain doll. The crystal chandelier comes crashing down into hundreds of thousands of pieces. There's nothing left. There's nothing inside a hollow life. The crystal fragments have to be picked up and thrown away. Cutting and sticking to you. A bloody mess. The day my chandelier of a life finally hit the ground, after rolling in its pieces trying to put it back together, I got my hands bloody. I scrapped the reconstruction process and started over. Fuck the chandelier, time to change.
From nothing, absolutely nothing, on my own. I got clean. One morning, waking up to a premonition the next time I used I'd be dead. I never used again after that. My first clean day, July 11th, 2011.
I used my expensive taste in designer wardrobes, shoes and handbag collections for another year. Compensating for the drugs and alcohol money I was no longer buring. Instead of saving, I could just by more shit. Weekly trips to Bergdorf I thought would help. That didn't fill the void. Eventually I lost my obsession. Not that I don't like nice things, I just don't overindulge as I used to. I no longer have that void to fill. Another hollow past time.
As far as men. Giving a shit, that took time. I quit doing that the past year and a half. The past 6 months I've been completely alone. No catch and release. No fucking around. No committed relationship like I tried for a year. 6 months of no sex and no men to distract me.
Much has changed in over three years now. I know what's important. And none of it is what I valued before.
I no longer have a sense of being god, but put here to do my service, help other people, get them answers and clean up the messes like I used to make.
I don't give a fuck about trivial shit. How much something costs. I no longer smile doing the tally of how much money is sunk into what I'm adorned in.
The thought of drugs and alcohol make me sick. The thought of them makes me angry. I can't stand people fucked up on them. And there is no way in hell I will ever go back down that road. I poured gasoline along that fucker and lit it on fire.
I've experience that bougie bullshit enough in this life, and trust me, it's not as fun as it seems, the wrong sparkly road to “happiness”. It almost killed me, all of my stupid past desires. And those desires, after my change of mind, will never again resurface. Once you see the flip side, the truth, there’s no going back.
I spent 13 years running to the other side, the wrong sunrise.
And that will never happen again. That girl is gone. And this drug, alcohol, promiscuous sex, bougie free woman is here, and here to stay.
And to be perfectly fucking honest, I wouldn't have it any other way and I've never been happier in my life. I'm no longer hollow, I'm full. Clean and determined. Nothing can stop me from driving into the right direction of my future. The real one. The clean one. The divine one. No more escaping. Only escalating towards the positive.
There are lessons to be learned from all mistakes, it’s just a matter of recognizing them, getting real with yourself and making the choice to turn it all around.
Blessed be
For further reading:
Hi, Have You Met Me? on Amazon/Kindle http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00B009W1M
There's No Good Campfires Left In Hell on Amazon/Kindle http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00H7CZ590