Updated: 4 days ago
1980 The Tribes
photo credit https://pixabay.com/users/tenebriscilva-3547927/
Readers, London is giddy with excitement. Its streets and squares throb with the pulse of the new. I am arrived as a complete person with my dreams intact. I am landed from another planet, so it seems, and I am thrilled with hopes of discovery and the promise of pleasures great. Life is luscious at last and I await its taking. Life must ravish me for I have waited so long.
My boyfriend with hair of glimmering blue and bejewelling of any worthy dandy at court has indeed swept me off my feet. He fair seduced me with his derring-do and good humor, his charisma effervescent and uncontained. All the world is so beguiled by his charms that I am oft to swoon at his tiniest touch upon my once neglected flesh. His penis is magnificent and although I am forced to complete the task of my girlish satisfaction when he carries out his morning ablutions, it takes me to where I have not been before, the gate of nearly there at the hands of another.
The act of flesh pleasuring has obsessed me and the floods are upon me in my nethers. I am uncontrolled and it is most exhilarating in both mind and body. But my human form does what it will without the concerns of my brain and so I let it for, there is no purpose to deny the inevitable.
Father was close to hatred of the parading peacock whippersnapper; no, 'twas some male complexity of ownership, or some such silliness of male pride. But I am reached eighteen and was free to complete the union with the boy-man with the beautiful hard penis of pleasure.
Father did not attend the wedding nor pay for its accomplishment and so our rings were cheap nickel tinlets. But I care not for the glistening appendages of royalty for I have run away from the prison of my childhood to the circus of punk.
We were married in six weeks of knowing this mutual electricity and I have escaped Father’s torturous violence. How wonderful life is with the punk rockers along the famous King’s Road in glorious London Town.
I have taken to adorning myself with all that is peacock bright and have been in training to speak like the commoners. In return, they have allowed me to be graced by their freedoms. There is music everywhere and tribal chanting. The whisky pours and tobacco makes clouds above our dizzy heads. The drugs are as free as the birds in this here London town. We embrace ourselves with the sounds of the streets and large music boxes. We have access to all areas and I have even frequented Heaven!
Ah, readers, tis not the Heaven you think you know; tis a club of night time rebellious revelers, a place for the shenanigans of dandies in the tightest of leathers. They are strapped in bondage clothes and the makeup of girls and are a sight to behold.
I have rubbed shoulders with Sir Lenny from the music warrior clan ACDC and just this week with Siouxie Sioux, a Banshee of fine and dulcet melodies.
The street people with shaven heads, blue jeans and laced boots, have also embraced me. They call themselves skinheads and they are most attractive with their butchness and crazy zest for life. They like to march and chant and their music is rousing indeed.
But one threatened me harm just yesterday when I criticized his manners in a way that revealed my education and upbringing. I am now wise to watch my errant tongue, to adopt a more colloquial method of reciting life’s idiosyncrasies, and most of all ‘do what is good for me’.
I have also learned that it is prudent not to mention my lack of pure heritage in case it rouse feelings of embitterment for although I am grateful for acceptance into the clans of London, I am aware that a lack of purity of genes might cause a rejection, and worse still, a harm to my person.
I am learning each day to exist here in London town and although it does not come as naturally as I had perceived from the shiny magazines of my child zone, I am thrilled with excitement for I know not what the future brings and I am free.
The Club of One Hundred and the Club of Blitz are my new homes of whisky and song. We attend most regularly and I have amassed many tickets and mingled with many celebutantes. The partying is hedonistic and the whiskey and the drugs take my mind to places that give me peace. I forget the death fear years. I am graced only with abandon.
Finally, I am with my tribe, I am a punk rocker!
To watch the series pop over to the Dominartist Movie channel, a cinema of delightful filmmaking. Enlightenment, coming of age feminism directed by the Dominartist.
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