CHAPTER 1 ENTRANCE 

The young hippie looked at me with the intent of well worked but passionate supporter of all things ‘Burning Seed’ she wore loose fitting short jeans with a crop top made from woven materials the types you’d buy on a tropical holiday she had on shabby looking doc martins and a smile that could light up any room. 

‘Please move forth through the portal into Burning Seed and hold in your mind your intention for the festival’ she announced proudly as though I was the first person she had ever said this to she was totally upbeat and completely genuine. 

I paused for a moment.. as I smile at her half happy half tired and the bit just physically needing to stretch out  from the lengthy 5 hour drive. 

I bent over slightly touching my toes and then taking each arm up over my head and stretching it out. 

“Yeh ok cool’ I replied smiling and taking in the site. 

My mind went a buzzing with ideas and thoughts of finding fame and success oh I wondered what if this was the one time that I been waiting for where I was finally discovered as a DJ and end up on tour with an international artist like Carl Cox.

I was beginning to have clearing in my mind and very much in my thoughts was that I wanted to get mostly ‘out of mind’ at this festival totally mental out of it in all sorts of fancy mind numbing  brilliance and bullshit that came along with it this was defiantly my intention to get as fucked up as possible and play the best set of my entire life – although that was always my intention when it came to music and DJ’ing my standard that I always aimed for and sometimes managed was the best possible set I could play and although I had already spent hours on the creation of the set that got me the gig at Burning Seed I still was curating a new one as I wanted it to capture the entire festival and the sounds that I heard there so, no big deal but an entire new set was on the horizons. 

 All jokes aside I decided to answer in a cheery tone as if to match the hippie chick who was waiting for my reply waiting for my mental readiness that is.

 I said to myself “I want to meet someone who knows everyone in the underground Melbourne music industry, specifically a man, a hot man, double points if he sells drugs’ my intention was set. 

I walked through the portal with the image on the person or persons I wished to meet. 

As we 4 piled back into the van myself and my four comrades all from differing parts of the globe which I had the amazing opportunity of getting to know during our ride together we set into the Matigong state forrest where the festival would be held over the next 4 days. 

The long dry dirt road was a pale grey colour there were Australian native trees and scrubs that covered the land scape the deep greens mixed with fire patterned yellow of the Wattle flowers bloomed at out from the nature reserve. 

Wow this place is beautiful I thought to myself and started to make chit chat about the surrounding to Florence the ‘captain’ of the ship being the driver and organiser of the camper van we had used to get to Burning Seed. 

 Florence was from south America her mum worked as a cleaner all of her life and once Florence was 18 gave her $10,000 and told her to go overseas and explore the world. 

Florence couldn’t speak a word of english at the time and flew into London not knowing anyone or being able to speak the native language.

She soon met people who spoke Spanish and started working as a cleaner than she started to learn english and to travel as well as work in different areas of the travel sector.

Now at the time when I have met her she’s working for a traveling company who also hire out vans and organise peoples venues around Australia.

 Florence was incredibly beautiful she had bright blue eyes long blonde hair which was naturally platinum and quite slim.

 She also had this inner strength about her which meant you kinda felt like she could manage any situation and you naturally relaxed in her presence because it. 

  Burning Seed somehow managed to convince the council to allow them on the land for this festival but burning seed as you may or may not already be aware of is a very special place, one that many hold as a significant or most significant experiences of their live this is a statement and true testament to the faith and kind of people that attend the event.

You can leave any dance floor around the world and you’ll surely find at least a a few drink cans bags of chips whatever it is might be but at Burning Seed theres basically no trash left behind everyones very careful and mindful of their impact on the environment. 

At the time I could barely scape together the cash to afford to go but with Macs insisting and the fact he already giving me such cheap rent at his apartment meant it was hard to say no to. 

That was Marcs gift amongst other things he has this infectious personality which drags you in whenever he’s excited about something. 

The space was filled with the natural beauty that is the Australian inner region of country New South Wales the further down we drove the more cars appeared people in bright coloured outfits and camps were beginning to be set up and some where well and truly finished the labour of love meant that many of the official camp sites and their stages had been started to be built weeks prior in order to  get them done before the festival started which was officially Friday however a lot of people have been on site for 2 weeks prepping the grounds and many come earlier to help with set ups of their camps stages we arrived Thursday afternoon around 6:40PM which meant we were burning through our sunlight hours. 

Our first night was spent meeting up with the crew who’s already been at the Burn for the past 4 days they were setting up our theme camp ‘La Canival’ which took its inspiration from a carnival that had been ship wrecked. 

Their work never short of amazing had arranged for large boat to be transported to the site and set up 2 bars as well as a coffee food truck.

The group of people are were made up of mostly french creatives who had a passion for the planet and spent countless hours on making anew old thrown out items for decor for other parties and of course for our Burning Seed theme camp.  

They were headed by founded members, namely Anso who married man an Italian man named Tano and you can place and be correct in thinking he was very stereo type of an Italian man you can imagine handsome yes,  intense for almost no reason and very hard to work with due to his temper tantrums yes all of this was true of Tano but you could also say that he was sort of brilliant. 

Tano and Anso I’m not kidding their names rhymed together as much as they physically matched in terms of looks and height and even though Tano was batshit crazy half the time when I met him he was very generous and knew how to get things done, no stranger to hard work he was a big component as to why and how the camp had made such progress in such a small period of time. 

 Tano with his classic dark tanned skin rugged in his nature and in his nurture the two of them together Anso and Tano were notorious for their beauty and for their arguing fighting over this and that, I could never tell you exactly what it was they were having a disagreement over but it almost always somehow left Anso in tears and Tano the victorious one in their battles. 

The couple had been married for the past 2 years and it seemed to me that they always had some sort of issue going on and that Anso was almost always left feeling lonely lost and sad afterwards something which I deeply understood to be the signs of a troubled marriages and maybe just maybe Tano was asshole something which I brought up on a few times to Marc. 

And even though he agreed with me his response was flavoured with old practicality nonsense “Yes Jasmine but he is her husband” and my response more honestly and rightfully so 

“Yeh but that doesn’t mean that he’s not being a massive dickhead” 

when in discussion another night where Anso arrived to her own party hours late and clearly had been in tears over something Tano had said and done or who knows I mean Tano did seem to be controlling but he was also fronting the bill for the warehouse that their collective was using and trying to make a real go of it did seem to be chewing up alot if not all of their time. 

One time he flew to Italy without telling her until he was half way there he simply jumped on a plane and phoned her once he was there who does that? Tano does that crazy I know but she stayed with him which was really all her own choice.

A small group of  them had started the La Peti collective in Anso’s garage in Bondi they were a now much larger group of friends had spent many a long nights in talks of the world and need for change the struggle for real cultural demand impact in terms of environmental awards and accountability at the top levels of pollution so, they started doing something to express themselves they like most artists choose create, recreate and make noise about the environment. 

Through the shared care of the environment I bounded with them. 

Well…not exactly in all honestly I first met Marc and Justine. 

They were at a Techno party I went to and at the time I didn’t have many friends. 

You could say that I was kinda lonely I didn’t have many good friends and even less of them shared my same interests namely events and techno music I know that seems shallow and sort of out of niche but it was true. 

Because I was so lonely and needed people in my life I decided I had to do something about it and started to meditated a lot on finding new friends ones who cared about the same things as I did ones who, among other things liked techno music and were going out to the places that were throwing good parties were open minded cared deeply and knew how to have a good-fucking-time.

So, I did what anyone else would do in this situation. I added them  based on blind faith and let my intuition take the wheel something in me just said ‘add some people from that party’.

I added 3 people the day after the party I had went to with a friend who really didn’t enjoy Techno music and spent most of her night complaining about her boyfriend and smoking cigarets at the back of the club. 

But would you know it out of the 3 one messaged me back his name was Marc. 

“hey, I noticed you added me and some of my close friends, which is fine, but i wanted to know how you knew us’  

The question, seemed to fill his head and mine I hadn’t prepared for a follow up. 

I wrote “I went to the Made in Paris gig at The Flinders and added you, thinking you were a friends friend” 

He proceeded “well, that makes sense about me but what about my friends”.

I told him they seemed cool or that I thought I had met them on the night  I soon invited them out that weekend to an underground Techno party that a group in Sydney were throwing new smaller events at various locations. 

Let me explain a couple of things Under ground is a term well by now its an identity one that seems to be further away from any real branding or marketing trash that it rebels against it loosely means that unless you know a friend or hear about the party you most likely wouldn’t have heard about it underground quite literally means underneath the ground which could be referring to when the disco parties were taking over ‘Viva la revolution’ style in France back in the day before Disco became ‘mainstream’.

There was an entire generation of people who were excising their freedom by going to clubs and socialising with people from different backgrounds. Which at the time was frowned upon and in some cases illegal. 

  You have to be told about these parties if I hadn’t asked Marc and Justine to come with me that weekend they’d have not heard of it ‘underground’. 

---

Hearing Protection: My Journey

The other day, I was sitting in the lounge watching TV with my housemate Sid. We’d just landed in Bali for a little vacation, and she was getting into a series.

“Can you turn it up?” I asked.

She looked at me, a little confused. “Sure, but… it’s already pretty loud?”

I couldn’t get into it—I felt disconnected. Without it being louder, I felt like I was missing something. How loud is too loud? I wondered.

Fast forward to Friday night—I was playing a two-hour opening set at Hatch (shout out to Hatch 💛), and everything felt fine… until it didn’t. After the set, I felt like my ears were blocked. What if I’ve done damage? My earbuds had arrived just before the trip, but I hadn’t been consistent with using them. The next day in the villa, my right ear suddenly ‘popped’, and it felt like I’d lost some hearing.

That’s when I decided to write this post.
About why hearing matters.
And how earbuds—custom ones—help reduce the noise pollution that comes with our loud, beautiful, chaotic scene.

---

How I Got Here: A Story of Sound and Self-Care

When I first started out in the music industry nearly 15 years ago, ear protection just wasn’t a thing. If people wore anything, it was those giant orange industrial muffs—definitely not a vibe when you’re trying to flirt with pseudo-celebrity DJs.

But the more time I spent on dance floors, and the more serious I got about DJing as a craft and a career, the more I realised: longevity means protecting the assets that matter. Your ears.

My older brother Shane had been DJing for over a decade, running weekend parties at The Marlin down on the South Coast. I’d catch the train down and play everything from trap to commercial house. I learned a lot from him—but one thing really stuck with me.

During a back-to-back session, I noticed how loud his headphones were. “Whoa! That’s insane! How do I turn it down?” I asked, half-laughing, half-concerned.

Then one weekend, Shane told me he had to take 3–6 months off. His hearing had deteriorated so much that he needed time to recover. That really hit me.

Around the same time, my friend Justin mentioned casually, “I have hearing loss. It’s a real problem—it’s actually a type of disability.”
His honesty stayed with me. And it made me think: How many men in my life are silently suffering from this?

---

My First Earplugs

So I headed to a local DJ store and bought my first pair of earplugs. Figuring out the right size was a bit tricky, but the staff were super helpful (as always).

I felt proud—like I was taking my music journey seriously. I was playing more locally by then, so I wasn’t constantly traveling to the South Coast. But the habit stuck: every time I lost a pair, I replaced them.

Then one night at Sweethearts Rooftop, I was watching Ludovic play a killer sunset set. He had custom earplugs in—and I thought, Hmm… he’s definitely taking this seriously. I asked a mutual friend about it and they said, “Yeah, Ludo’s always got them in. He’s good with that stuff.”

That was the nudge I needed.

---

Investing in Custom Earbuds

I did a little research and found a place called Pacific Ears. Turns out, it wasn’t as expensive as I thought. I also learned that professionals like dentists and tradies also need hearing protection—loud environments affect way more people than just DJs.

They took putty moulds of my ears, and the specialist helped me choose the right filters based on my needs. The whole process took about two weeks. Easy.

---

Using Them in the Club

At first, it took a bit of adjustment to mix while wearing them. I’d switch them in and out during sets until I felt fully comfortable wearing them the whole time.

Eventually, I lost one. (Classic.) But the great thing about Pacific Ears is they had my ear shape on file—so I could just order a replacement online. $319 for a new set, and they even made the left earbud a different colour to make it easier to find.

I now love using them.

They:

• Cut out harsh high frequencies
• Preserve the bass (where most voices live)
• Help with focus in noisy environments
• Come in a cute case (with pockets for USBs!)
• Make conversations easier without removing them

Also… cleaning them with alcohol wipes is a must. Trust me.

---

My Tips If You’re Considering It

• Go for a coloured set—you’ll find them faster in a dark booth.
• Get the string attachment if you’re worried about losing them.
• Practice using them during sets—it takes a couple of weeks to get used to.
• Invest in your hearing before it becomes a problem.

---

---

Final Thoughts

Taking care of your ears isn’t optional if you want to be in this game for the long haul. My first custom set lasted over 3 years, and the replacements are still going strong.

Now, when I leave a club, I don’t go home with ringing ears or muffled hearing. I don’t stress about needing to take time off. And that peace of mind? Priceless.

Protect your ears.
You only get one pair. 💕

— Jasmine x

HearingHealth #DJLife #CustomEarplugs #pacificears #BuildBaliBetter

— Jasmine x  

#HearingHealth #DJLife #CustomEarplugs #BuildBaliBetter

Happy hearing lovelies!

Home

As I sit here reading myself to back into a not so bright past of myself of my family and my close friends the weather seems fitting – its raining, its cold and unlike my natural flare for the powerful positive and upbeat stir ups I’m ok with just letting it ride.

This post comes off a phone call that I just need with my best friend *Ashely. 

Ashley and I have been friends since I was 20. 

We shred everything together the good, the bad, the news about her baby, well that kinda of put an end to what was our party era together, I on the other hand  continued to party and make mistakes some of which were small and forgivable others a bit more on the serious side such as being with badly behaved men who have a tendencies for control and violence. 

Heres the thing that gets me so upset “Why don’t you just leave?” 

Well at first lets acknowledge that most people who enter into these relationships are vulnerable in some way, lets than add into the picture that the people who are dishing out this form of abusive are well versed in the art of manipulation. 

My story was the same as just about anyone else’s. 

And Ill tell it here now as I feel its time.

When I was younger actually fuck that sob story.

But lets just say even though my single mother tried ( single mother of 5 kids 6 depending on whether or not our brother Ben came to stay with us while in between foster careers or as it turned out in and out of physc wards ) chill out, I’m not going ‘there’ with this post. 

The whole point was to illustrate that yes our little house of treasures was a little different we moved around a lot mostly I think because mum was paranoid her other kids would be taken off of her. This is truth the system especially the one that are there to protect us are as corrupt and deprived as you can imagine. 

Now reading this if your someone who has no idea or understanding about the world the real world not the plastic synthetic one you are continually conditioned to believe is set up for your safety but the real one where a slimly undercurrent of corruption and vile parasitical fuckheads hoot toot around the lower social classes only to prey upon vulnerable mostly women. 

This was unfortunately the story of mother not just with the removal of her her son my brother but throughout her life. And forgive me for saying this but again if you’ve had no real lived life experience of its like to grow up broke and assumed dump then you’d not understand this post and therefore its best you kindly leave now either that or continue read the following knowing full well your creating your own trauma. 

“You know my friend *Soli she’s dead”

I paused half hoping that I had missed a prolog or an illness that I wasn’t made aware of. 

My mind running through a dialog of her and our brief but telling interactions over the years, the stories of her falling into yet another abusive relationship coming to the surface.

“The last time I saw her I had to take her to the hospital for a **pe* kit – Ashley posing for a moment that was the last time”

We spoke more about the choice made by Ashley at the time to no longer participate in *Soli’s life. 

We all get to ‘that point’ in these fucked up relationships where our friends and family cant support us anymore and I was the same. 

At 19 I had ended up in a very abusive relationship wherein my boyfriend was hitting me threatening me and overall controlling me each move I mad, phone call and text was either used as a way to punish me or weaponised to further his own convictions that I was cheating on him. 

The fights, the abuse. Consistent and eventually people saw it they saw it and one of friends dads refused to allow him at their house anymore due to it – which I really respect him for. So many people told me to leave but it wasn’t until I walked into my first ever therapy session that I actually had the capacity to leave.

TRIGGER WARNING, 

One night he had gone as far to beat me and force himself on top of me while I laid there unable to move I thought ‘why do I keep ending up in these situations’ 

Then as if completely removed from the situation “I need to go to therapy’. Thats how I ended up in therapy well – it took another 2 Years of being abused but I did finally leave and It was due to mostly my mum never giving up on me and my therapist saying this in response to my questions regarding abusive men.

“ Jasmine do you see these women at the train station now, the ones with missing teeth, black eyes and they look like a nightmare – they were the ones who didn’t leave, men like this do not change”

If you take anything from this post take that one sentence and run with it because upon hearing it fro the first time it changed my life. 

My mother soon thereafter moved into another house where Luke didn’t have our address and I finally escaped. 

He also abused my kitten and punched its teeth out – because he’s at the very Bottom of human evolution. 

I hope this post gets read by someone who was considering him for a job and he loses it, 

I hope this post gets read by police officer who’s reviewing case files about another victim and sees this post and thinks “I knew it’. 

Luke Olds you pathetic excuse for a human-being gross you are gross and anyone who associates with you is equally as gross. I heard someone pushed you off a roof good.

By the time I had finally ended up in therapy my friends had all but evaporated and the only person who still answered my phone calls was my mum, she unlike everyone was desperate to get me out of this man clutches. 

And I will say clutches and I will also use both of these creatures names because fuck them and also if Chris Vagg is still able to use his parents money to get him out of shit than I can use his name to free myself of the mistake of not being able to put him away in the first place for trying to choke me – he was trying too kill me, the only reason he didn’t succeed was due to the fact his neighbour had switched onto the fact that something was astray and came around the back to check on me because her knocks on the door had gone unnoticed by the deranged psychopath. 

Also, I might add in that this particular loser drug addicted pathetic excuse for a human waste land was not unlike the previous version of the other male who also physically attacked me. 

However Chris did it once and I left.

Luke was hitting me for years and I simply couldn’t figure out a way to keep him happy enough to stop.

I had no version of what a normal loving relationship looked like, I wasn’t really prepared for what came next with either men.

Chris and I ended up in court over the incident where he tried to choke me to death that was also due to the police making the decision to press charges. 

Luke got away with it well – actually he got away with up until now because now I feel empower and fucking inspired to let everyone know exactly who they are dealing with. 

‘

To Lukes mother who continually bailed Luke out knowing full well his was a drug addicted loser who unlike me refused to work you’re also part of the problem. 

I wont go any further into you and your BS but I will say one thing about it all You made him worse because you refused to make him accountable in anyway. 

Chris Vagg – your a fucking deranged loser who most likely going to read this post go off on some ‘ill sue you tangent’ then like the little coward you are make your parents deal with it because lets face it its not their son they care about is it? No its their reputations. 

Even though absolutely everyone knows you’re a deep insure person who runs around pretending to play a bad-boy because you have nothing else to do with your life and no ambition due to the fact your parents raised you to be fearful of them and the entire world if anyone ever found out that your all batshit crazy and not in the fun-loving eccentric way that most people can enjoy.

No your family is the cold nasty type who would make excuses about suing people ‘just because’.

Just cold assholes basically who found new reasons to ruin peoples days. 

I remember meeting his mother for the first or second time and she commented how the neighbours were complaining over a building issue that was in fact due to the building needing rendering works because of the weight of theirs forcing the placement of the neighbours house creating mass cracks in the walls. 

When she explained it to me she was very pride about the entire saga. 

An arrogant smugness that seemed to demonstrate to me it simply didn’t matter who’s fault it was  they’ll happily keep fighting them. 

Again just total lunatics. 

I was young I was 22 years old I didn’t know any better and I did honestly think that Chris loved me. 

Fast forward to my point. 

Its not our faults that we end up with (mostly ) men who are hell bent on keeping us captive by use of punishment and control.

We don’t see it – I didn’t ‘see it’

So the next time your friend calls you to complain about her abusive partner remember not all domestic violence relationships end up in court some end up unfortunately in the funeral home. 

I wish we had more education, more time and more resources. 

But we don’t and unless we as a community address this in a real way it continues. 

If someone you know is a victim of domestic abuse please encourage them to seek help through the use of help line or a women’s shelter. 

As someone whose witnessed this first hand and dealt with it myself I can honestly say that the men doing this to women don’t give a fuck about us they are just using us as vessels of pain and touring us in a way to maintain their power. 

We become brain washed. 

It takes a lot to leave a cult – our basically in a cult, 

A deeply rooted, well informed, architecture that keeps us from leaving and from anyone else getting in. 

So have some compassion and let us speak openly and freely about these people in the hopes that no one else will have to lose their lives to monster and his ‘play thing’. 

God give me something to believe I sit here with no body and freemen please tell me whats it meaning for the lights are so dark in theres no beauty left no spark

I heard a crack and roaring smack looking up I see clearly what could only be, it was he.

Than god came down riding a thunder cloud atoned with his crown.

Searching high than low to the ground as though he was taking it all in.

then he spoke these words came through knowing nothing about what to do I kept them here just for you.

“First you complained about freedom sitting here with free will in the garden of eden” “this is what you do with free will? allowing others to freely kill”

That wasnt me god i swear it.

“Dont lie to me child I could not bare it”

” you pay your taxes they grinned their axes what else for but human saluter killing another son and daughter” “with all my teaching and my readings this is what you’ve chosen to believe in”

“wheres your sense of humanity, how many cents for a human tragedy”

What do you think the world should do?

“Well if it was just between me and you I’d tell you exactly what I would do – i keep your armies and defends your shores but I use those armies to create no wars –

for overseas they could go only to help and defend the sorrow – for your own shadows do morrow in the chaos of a forgotten tomorrow” True hero’s they’d soon become instead of helping this human scum”.

“Sitting here full of wonder whilst your lives you still do blunder what is life without your freedom and tell me now who have you chosen to believe in?’ “

Do they carry me inside their hearts or are they still out collecting scares?”

Tell me of their profits and wars and than please tell me what they did that for?’ ” And who exactly helped them fund that war and than tell me what you did that for?”

Not all money goes towards human ashes , what if our system crashes?

what would happen to the hospitals and schools?

“Well you’d keep all of them they aren’t out causing mayhem” stop allowing the opinion of a few greedy men to take over and condemn.

“Tell me what comes first your love for humans or this dirt? You allow others to kill and blunder and then you wonder why they are sacrificing your own mother”

If I lived here I’d go buzzark telling me stories about how true love hurts all the while theres tale of torture until you defend a new world order not one thats filled with suffering or the entitlements that they’ve been covering. Now tell me more about your suffering.

Well I suppose I just wished people understood.

Shooting each other but they didn’t grow up in the hood. Removal of collateral and fate while they sit around eating another stake.

Tell me child who comes first your love for the planet and this here dirt or the death of culture consumed in nonsense twisted and toiled your minds have become the brain washing will soon become undone for you were sent here to play with dolls and have fun, no my child you are not the only one who sees past the hysteria and masses there’s a loud growing united front thats learning and leading the new way.

This whole blog was suppose to be about sex and the reason I wanted to write about sex was because recently i have some, well, pretty good sex.

Okay, lets get something out of the way here, umm, how do i say this, i don’t think i’m gay, i only ever really dated a couple of women and they had to do most of the heavy lifting, in the relationship, if im totally honest – had i had more confidence with sex in general, i most likely would have explored this part of myself way more, but in saying that i am a ‘people person’ i mostly enjoy forming a connection with a person and if i dont ‘feel it’ then i wont …’feel-feel it’ enough to hope into bed with you, that doesn’t mean that i haven’t had casual sex, i like sex, i love and enjoy having a good time.

What it does mean, at least for me, is that my ideas around sex seem to be a little different to my mostly hetero straight female friends.

I kinda always just thought i had to wait, or that my ‘phase’ of crazy sex was coming but it just never came, when i lived in europe, yeah i had some great sexual experiences, but mostly with people who i considered good friends of mine, oh how love the european summer.

Sorry sidetracked

The whole point is that i didn’t have as much sex as the great majority of my friends and this made me, feel, kinda, well ‘left out’

Skip forward a few years, and i have made my way from living in the UK to a moving to Melbourne Victoria. I first lived with a boyfriend of mine who turned out to be a bit of a jerk, then i moved into another shared house ect, ect, until finally, i made my way to house in South Melbourne.

A new house mate moved in he’s name was mike*, mike was a tradie and a musician and smoked weed in his spare time.

Anyhoo

We had toyed with the idea of having sex, and by that i mean i had thought about it on more than 1 occasion.

Mike had a much better set up in his room, so we would hang out in there mostly talking about our other housemates and watching obscure YouTube videos.

After a couple of weeks, i thought i might make the move, and ask mike to stay in my room. He agreed and as we lade their, quietly, i started to wonder if my simi intense flirting had got me anywhere.

I rolled over and we made out, the kiss was, it ..was well ‘fine’, not bad, not amazing, but you know, just ‘fine’.

Okay, next step some foreplay…. wait..wait..nope.

No foreplay, went straight to the sex part, and it was all over in proximity 5 mins flat.

I was confused

I was really confused, i don’t want to admit that i was disappointed, but i was more in shock, ‘why, what, are we just not that invested in my needs’ also i started thinking that age old thing we sometimes do,

‘has sex changed since i last had it and im just not on the mailing list about any of the latest updates’

It ended with “don’t worry i’ll get you back’

which didn’t make me feel any better, i just felt, ‘mah’ about the whole situation and that, in any other situation where i wasn’t able to ‘get mine’ i wouldn’t go back for seconds.

Here it goes…

I was kind of a prick before this and i honestly thought that if i wasn’t going to climax with someone than, it probably wasn’t worth my time going back for another round, but, before you judge me,

Hear me out

I am not the only one, I don’t want men or women to read this blog post and think to themselves ‘i better give it a real hot crack the 1st time – otherwise, they aren’t coming back. I personally wouldn’t go back with someone even if we had a good track record and then ‘struck out once’

UGH….

i know, im a total asshole, each line i write is worsening my own self glorified ‘nice girl persona’ something i thought i had done a pretty good job of achieving. Here i am weeks after the said, 1st time with Mike* my house mate and i started to flirt with a new someone else, a very cool guy melbourne producer, ‘match made in dj heaven! So i thought. I mention this to a close friend of mine and she starts to give me ‘the talk’ the very real, the very normalised ‘i had sex with him and this is what it was like for me talk.

‘Sex with this guy was bad‘

She said, pretty straight forward – and i just had to know, i wanted to understand what was being said, and exactly by what measure his sex was deemed ‘bad’

“He had no rhythm’ still not sold on the idea, i don’t get it ‘well, he wouldn’t stay in one position for very long at all and everytime i got on top he said that he was about to cum so we had to switch again’ to be totally fair my friend said alot more to me about the whole experience but i don’t want to mention it hear because if someone ever reads this and that someone is him, than the next two lines would been a dead-give-a-away on who the melbourne music producer is that apparently was terrible in sexy sack.

Anyhoo…

I feel as tough its important to mention i liked this guy, not enough to date, but enough to have sex with and, you know, see how things go, after this conversation, i thought it was best to, well, not sleep with the guy. It happens, im almost certain it isn’t just a ‘me thing’ and as a matter of fact the opposite is also true, many a friend has asked a women for a sex-frence and based off a good review gone on to have a cheeky dingle and pringle party.

Hear I am.

Single, bored and well, moving house.

Mike offers to help.

I take the offer, but leave it to get something small helped with – as to save myself any obligation sex.

After helping to move 1 (count it 1) bulky item Mike also offers to help set up the bed, the couch and a bunch of other chores i was basically going to either ignore until it broke or replace it with another cheap crappy version of itself. Much like my last realationships.

Here we are …

Laying down, on my couch watching yet another stupid YouTube video, when the ‘adventurous side’ of me comes out to play and says ….

“Hey lets have some sex’

Let me lay it out for you – real quick, we females like a story, so this would be mine. We started to make out, again it was ‘fine’ not great but ‘fine’ then Mike went down on me.

EVERYTHING CHANGED.

There’s a part in the movie ‘think like a women’ where the character played by Mel Gibson, gets the gift of being able to hear what his female counterparts are thinking, there is one scene where he uses this new found resauce to get inside the woman’s head he is having sex with, surprisingly, he is terrible to begin with but then, he starts to pay attention to what she is thinking, and with that gives her a one off experience of a life time, that scene was exactly the way i would describe my interaction with Mike, the second time around.

Some people are good with cars, some people have a thing for the fiddles and Mikes ‘thing’ was that he could drive you like an Italian sports car and never want anyone else behind wheel.

I asked my male friends about this and they said that they would never not go back for sex with someone, just because they didn’t have a great time the first time around, which makes me think, ‘am i being foolish in not giving a guy a second or 3rd shot in bed?

Well, if the experience ( and many, many more after that came along with it ) with Mike said anything it was one thing

‘Give people a second chance’ they could end up being the Best Sex you have ever had’

Who know just how many decent sexual experiences i have been talk out of by myself due to one or 2 not so great times in bed with someone.

🙂 Peace out 🙂

I first started throwing up at age 14, I had a friend Courtney who was doing it, so I thought to myself “why not” little did I know it would be something that consumed me for over 10 years.

I’d never considered throwing up or starving myself as an option – but I doubt many eating disorders start that way. My friend Courtney had gone from a size 8 to 12 whilst dating her new boyfriend, she still looked great at a size 12 and had the body type to pull of any weight, she was one of those lucky gurls who could look fab at any weight.

One day I saw her after she’d broken up with her boyfriend (the one who she’d been with whilst the ‘comfort’ kilos were being added up) . When I saw her I immediately noticed she had lost at least 15kgs in the period of about 3 weeks since my last seeking her, I couldn’t help but say something, ‘omg Courts your so skinny’ I prized her, as is the tradition with most females. Praising weight loss and ignoring weight gains.

Courtney was a very different person to anyone I’ve ever met before, she was very beautiful but would lose her mind with intense and misdirected rage at you, for no reason, at any given time, it was ‘one of her quirks’.

Later that same night we’d gone out as teenagers do, and returned home to her mum’s place where we made food and called it a night, she asked me to get her a bucket – we hadn’t drink that much, so I was confused why she needed it. I returned to her room bucket in hand and she started to throw up. When I asked her if she was ok, she told me “I’m bulimic, now even if I don’t want to throw up after I eat my body just rejects the food anyway, how fucked up is that”. I was shocked, I didn’t really understand it, I mean, why bother? But it didn’t take long for me to start the exact same thing probably I just wanted to be skinny in the beginning, I wanted the extra attention, I was always a healthy size 8-10 but it wasn’t enough, I didn’t feel enough for people, I needed something, that something was to be skinner, the skinniest.

I started throwing up one night after eating Mcdonalds, I remember thinking that my throwing up sounded so loud that there was noway I could sustain such a habit. I was only 14 and I didn’t really get ‘into it’ until around 18, at the time I was in ‘party girl mode’ and my friend Courtney and I had been reunited, which, in all fairness was a massive disaster, she had moved into my place and we would openly throw up around each other, help one another hide plastic bags full of vomit.

We weren’t fat by any means but I always wanted to be ‘skinnier’ I didn’t really understand the long term effects of being Bulmic and little did I know I was on a very slippy slope.

After about 2 years of being Bulimic I was started skipping meals, I’d go 3 days without food on average, this was a standard for me – it was the only way I could keep my ‘body’ looking just right.

Around this time I met another friend, lets call her *Sherral. Sherral and I met at Tafe, we were both in the same course Marketing and Advertising – we soon started swapping ‘dieting tricks’ these included replacing food with Red Bulls, the logic being that you’d still have enough energy to get through the day with the caffeine hit. Sherral didn’t know it at the time but I was also throwing up anything that I ate, anything that entered into my body soon found its way down a toilet bowl.

The worse thing about being Bulimic is that you have no energy to do anything, people don’t realise this but each time you throw up you soonb after need to pass out from from doing so, its a massive time expense.

I would say that at my lowest I weighed 42.5kgs. I’d also add that at the time, I didn’t see my weight as a real problem, I thought I was doing what needed to be done in order to land more modelling and acting jobs. Even though I couldn’t get out of bed for an early morning shoot without my mum feeding me a low calorie biscuit and coffee.

My daily routine was getting up, heading to Tafe no food or on the way I’d get a Red Bull and Chicken stick then get to Tafe head to the bathrooms and throw up. After I’d throw up, I’d work out for at least 1 hour before class. After class I’d avoid food and then if we had a long break workout again. I was always tired. My brain couldn’t really retain any new information and even things I knew, I couldn’t think clearly enough to converse with people. I recall a moment when I was with a friend and trying to have a conversation with them was as though I was trying to relay messages from a new learned language.

The worst part of this was that people would comment on my appearance in ‘awe’ of the skin and bone I had become, I would hear each comment as a new reason to keep ‘it’ up. I was obsessed with my weight, it became something else entirely – my weight became the reason I felt ‘good enough’ my thoughts would go something like this, does this person like me? “Well, I feel particularly skinny today so how could they not”.. it gave me a deluded self confidence, and it was something that I could control, I had ‘this one thing’ that I could control.

People need to realise that being a size 6 isn’t healthy no matter how hard you want to make out it is, it just isn’t. Your malnourished, my whole concept of food was based around a strategic plan where I had brian washed myself into believing I ‘always had to lose weight’. Now let’s be clear here, it wasn’t ‘a fear of putting on weight’ it was a genuine attempt to scare myself into always losing weight. And it worked, after a couple of weeks of telling myself ‘you have to lose more weight’ all my mind did was replay the message ‘you have to lose more weight’. At 45 Kilos your body try’s to store anything it can, so you are consistently working against it to keep up the ‘skin and bones image’ you want to maintain.

The whole size 6 appealed to me because at the time I was a model and wanted to be an actress. I would tell myself “If you really want this you need to workout harder’, it was harmless to tell these small pushes, but I was also skipping whole days of eating and working out 3 hours a day – purely insane.

I started worrying about my teeth. I was 25 and living in London when I decided to get help for my eating disorder. I’d researched therapists and found one, her name was Roslyn. By the time I had met with Rosyln I was eating roughly $10 pounds of food a night then throwing it up and passing out, I did this every signal night for the past few weeks and I knew I wasn’t getting any better, I had to come to terms with the fact this ‘ thing’ was dictating my entire life and that I had lost all control over it.

I would wake up exhausted from throwing up all night, then make something to eat for breakfast – I’d would avoid throwing it up, and at lunchtime, it honestly depended on the day, on good days, I’d just have something and go about my day – on bad days… I’d head to the local store buy something full of sugar eat it on the way home, then throw it up. I’d have about 15 – 20 minutes until the ‘exhaustion’ would set in. Then after the 20 minutes, I’d need a nap, even after the nap, I’d feel like trash the rest of the day, I’d waste my day throwing up, basically.

Nighttime would come and I’d repeat the same process except I’d be throwing up in the shower, and then be passing out. I was a Mess.

Once I met Roslyn she explained how I’d have to deal with why I was throwing up, the real reasons, not the pretend ‘ I just want to be thin’ bullshit I had been feeding myself. So, I went to her, and we worked through some really hard things, stuff from my past and growing up, alot of the things that I had dealt with previously in therapy but this time it had different ‘meanings’. I wish I could say that I stopped, but I didn’t. That’s the thing with eating disorders they can come about again at any given time, especially if you don’t ‘deal with it’ in a real life changing type of way. I snapped a tooth eating one day around that time when I was living in London – that was after I had ‘quit’ throwing up, I mean, a tooth, it was a small section of a bottom front tooth and all I could think was ‘God, my starting to lose my teeth’.

In the summer of 2016 I met Brad just after returning from living abroad. He was a great partner and to be honest he never did anything wrong by me. But I was hiding a secret, I was Bulimic and at this stage it was impacting my performance at work. At the time I thought my life was good, on paper it seemed ‘fine’ even ‘great’ but I wasn’t happy and I started to take it out on my body.

Here’s what a normal day would look like, on a good I’d get up and go to work, on a bad day I’d get up and on the way to work stop by the local shops and buy whatever chocolate was on sale, it could be anything from a Bounty to a family sized Cadbury block. Once I’d rampaged through the shopping alisels, I’d soon thereafter pay for it, consum it like a sick mental patient and then … head to a local public toilet and proceed to throw it all up.

It’s such a disgusting and self hating act – to induce vomiting from your own body. The action itself and the rapid action of your fingers cause you to have small cuts down your throught at all times. How could I do this to myself? Day in and day out.

Brad and I moved in and I finally told him that I was a Bulimic, he’d already put up with quite a lot of my ‘antics’ – the mood swings were mear side effects of the raging abuse I was putting myself through. Whebn I finally told him, I promised to get clean and started therapy again.

The last time I throw up or stopped eating for days on end was back in 2016 – so I’ve been clean for 3 years now, it feels like much longer, I still binge on food – the only difference is I know I can’t throw it up, so I don’t. I remind myself “no, you don’t do that anymore’.

I wrote this as a message to anyone else who’s suffered through this, its not a good to live and I thank God I was able to quit.

Much Love,

Jasmine Speers

Here comes the party girl once more again in pain 

One more drink and I start the road to insane 

Running like the wind because I’m a hurricane  

Fill me with your forgetful bliss 

remember me, for I forget what night it is

Why are you so easy, like a bad boyfriend cheap and sleazy 

I paid for your company so baby, dont ever leave me 

Unless its fun, I’m filled with self regret, there you are sitting on my bed side table as though you had never left 

• 

• 

i forgot – to play 

i forgot to write back 

i forgot not to lie 

i forgot to mention that i didn’t really care 

i forgot to tell you that my feelings weren’t ever there 

You meant nothing to me and that’s ok 

for today its my game we shall play 

i forgot to tel you that you were my victim of pure circumstance, id have let you go were you giving the chance, towing to line between hidden lies and blind romance, 

filling your head with promises to keep, when on your own you soon shall weep, 

so hold your breath and we will go for a swim, i needed you to lose because it made me win, 

the web you fall into made perfect by design, tried and tested over time, 

my ego and lust soon there filled,  dont bother searching for answers ill give you non, 

I promised no games, but this was simply a bit of ‘fun’ 

ill give you bullets of lettered from one, shooting you down was with a place to hide and no where to run 

My relationship with ‘him’

I started drinking really young, I remember getting wine off my family and mixing it with water on special occasions. Fast forward 15 years and I’m not one of those ‘non-drinkers’ that I used to think were myths.

Yes, I am a DJ, promoter and up until last month was a whole year sober.

So many people ask why I don’t drink, so many people say things to me like ‘I wish I could not drink’ or ‘I don’t even know why I can’t give it up’. I love these little chats that I get to have with people but, honestly my personal choices have nothing to do with you I’ll happily chat with you if you really find it hard to stop or want some pointers. Making it a topic of conversation sometimes upsets me because it’s like I’m the odd one out – but if you never knew I didn’t drink you’d not notice that I wasn’t.

Lets get into the good stuff – why I quit for a year and what it showed me.

I was living in East Maitland with my cousin Natalie at the time, my life had been though a hell of bend, I went from living in Newtown with my boyfriend going to Uni and work to moving into 2 places with the period of 2 months. My life was in turmoil to say the very least. The people I surrounded myself with weren’t anything like me and even though I wanted to fit in, I never would, they were all grossly negative, listened to horrible ‘death metal’ music had no real prospects for their future, no passions that went past nights at the pub. One had clearly mental health issues and the others were smoking meth with her, making the issues worse. But it went by without a hitch ’cause you know ‘that punk life’.

Anyway, these people all sucked.

I moved away and wanted better for me, better friends, a better life and most all of all more places to play. I desperately needed to express myself and music was my outlet, after fleeing Sydney I wasn’t able to play at my uni bar which was a massive blow to my mixing but I had to be honest with myself playing at my Uni although an amazing experience wasn’t where I wanted to be playing … so i went inside my soul read a lot books and changed my belief systems. I wanted to produce music and become a real DJ professionally playing places that I loved such as Chinese Laundry, WeLove, everywhere that had great artists, thats where I wanted to play.

I challenged myself to accept that the people in my past were representations of what I thought I deserved and therefore I had a lot of work to do on myself. After I started reading and researching I finally got into mediation.

I felt like I had a blockage, my mind and soul said ‘I want more than anything to pursue music’ but something was holding me back, that one thing was drinking, if I really wanted to be in the music industry, I had to stop drinking, it was as clear as day. I knew I’d have to be sober and really present for all the conversations that were about to take place – I met people and friends made my way into the music world, but it all came down to that promise I made to myself.

I was able to meet people and feel 100% about each word said and therefore found that my confidence excelled – I had no more excuses, here I was a clear and direct DJ who wanted it so bad she quit drinking. I have met many artists since that time, some of them I think need to quit one thing or another, and speak openly about the issues surrounding our community. I notice that the personality traits of someone can become more alike their ‘under the influence’ selves rather than who they normally are, as in the influence of their drug induced personality transfers into themselves which can be great, leading them to have a better awareness or grow to become more confident – however my fear is that sometimes people are leaning on these substances such as MD or alcohol instead of being able to developing the natural character traits needed to come out of their shell without anything else.

Take me for instance, when I have had a couple of drinks I like to make-out with everyone, its fun, light hearted and I enjoy it, however, I am very much aware that I had not been drinking I’d be finding better uses of my time. Again, its just my interpretation of my own life, I still do and would do that same thing, but unless I’m drinking its just not as fun.

For someone who enjoys being aware of what is going on, it seemed important that I take a good look at my drinking. I choose to quit, this time it was because I want to create music, and in my industry there are many temptations, in order to be successful I had to give it up… so one night I made the choice to and I planned a going away party. Yes, a going away party for alcohol. It just made sense, I would have big chocolate cakes when starting a new diet why not apply this to drinking so that is what I did, and you know what it was pretty enlightening. There were feelings and thoughts attached to my ‘alcohol’ that I wasn’t even aware of.

It was halloween 2017 – I drove to my best friends place Jess, Jess is amazing person, friend and a genuine goddess. We went out to Chinese Laundry and spent a day session at her place, with friends. The night soon came and once it did so did the realisation that I would be giving up drinking.

I looked at my glass with new found fear, fear of what I would do without it, I looked closer at my own feelings and each time I did I had a feeling of found memories, and sometimes sad ones too. My cup wasn’t a cup it had feelings, some were bad some good like a friend.

I’d soon realised I was saying good bye to a friend, not a good or bad friend, just a friend. The point of the matter was alcohol had become a just that, a comfort an excuse, but non the less always, always, there.

My mind wondered from place to place, times in London and when I was a teenager, always there. Creating fun and adventure, misadventure and danger, the one true excuse and cure, my long lost dad my new old found hope but most of all and this is what is so important – it wasn’t ever ‘just a drink’ and that is why I chose to give ‘it’ up.

Here is thing, I knew that I was about to enter into a life style that can afford to have a few loose nights and even though its accepted I knew that deep down I’d not be able to be taken seriously had I chosen to keep drinking.

Here’s the thing about drinking we can believe that it brings out your true colours but what if that is all rubbish? Have we ever stop to think that alcohol can do the opposite, as in you can become someone you really aren’t or say things you simply do not mean? and where is the line?

• 

all these questions and wasted Sunday mornings I chose to give up and for whatever reason I made my own life easier but simply not telling anyone, I didn’t tell my new friends because I didn’t want to stand out or be a burden to them. The ones who I did tell were more than welcoming but at first there was some judgement, lets face it – who doesn’t drink?

I’m a much happier, whole person when I’m not drinking and although I enjoyed a few with my new and old friends recently, I have no need or desire to do so once more. I no longer view drinking the same way I used to.

I did notice its kinda tricky with dating, I mean, I have had relationships where the entire time I didn’t drink – and times where I have so in terms of sex I can see how you’d think ‘ I need to be drunk’ but really you know that you don’t and if you really want the ‘great’ trust me, there’s many more ways to achieve it then being wasted. When you’re wasted you don’t remember any of it – so how does it mean it was any better? It doesn’t, you just think it was amazing because you were horny and drunk but that doesn’t make the sex itself any better. And if a person needs to be drunk to feel better or more confident about something as natural as sex than we have way more to talk about then drinking.

I urge anyone who struggles with drinking to have a going away party and to simply not tell anyone that you’ve quit – reasons being 1. Its too much pressure 2. Depending on what they say can depend on how you feel about 3. It just brings it up 4.People wont notice if you don’t say anything 5. Its not that big-a-deal