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I always get uneasy when I post something quite personal on my social media. Like it’s in bad taste. But in a world where we now communicate via these platforms where do you draw the line of personal or public. Is there a line anymore? When the person I am and the life I live are a character and show I created. But the character and show have actually become who and what I actually am. It’s been the hardest thing some of my friends have had understanding and respecting. It really hurts when your family and friends think you’re a circus show. It’s a constant battle to be who you are and what you want to be. What keeps you “on brand” or has commercial value when your life is for sale. Literally every part of me is on display, as a sex worker there’s no such thing as private. As a social figure there’s no such thing as discreción. So when someone dies and all your love and strength goes out to his family and loved ones left behind. It’s a stark reality that strips away the illusions you usually hide between. When death has been something you’ve had to deal with multiple times unexpectedly and for no reason or lesson learned other than you can’t count on seeing anyone again tomorrow. It makes all this social media superficial BS trivial, and makes you stop and think what and who is important. If you die tomorrow who and what will you be remembered as? A big cock, stinky pits, a spokesman for self love and gay acceptance, a husband, a father, a friendly stranger in a gym who you start a conversation with. Marty was just one of those really decent blokes. I didn’t know him well enough to know his demons or faults, I was closer to his beautiful wife. Who also knows the hurt of loss more than anyone should. So I proclaim my love for her on social media cause that’s what we do these days. I guess Instagram is my therapist. I lost a father a brother a dog and now a mate. Maybe posting this helps me move on cause you know what they say, the show must go on! RIP Marty. ❤️ u Kristy.

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