*Johns are men that purchase women
for sex. My team and I go are going out into the Redlight District in Chang Mai and building relationships with the people to show them love, to offer the women and men that work there a way out of the industry if they desire it.*
Dear Johns,
I don’t know how to show you love.
I don’t know how to control my eyes as
to not give you glaring death stares.
I don’t know how to deal with you and
your brokenness, because all I see is you breaking someone else.
In all honesty, you make my stomach
turn. The evil you’re doing undoes me. How dare you not care about
other people that much as to see it as okay to purchase them, like
they’re a sack of oranges. How dare you not value human life.
I knew I would meet you here on this
trip. I conjured up some sort of sympathy for you while I was in the
States, but meeting you face to face is way harder than I had
innocently thought it would be.
I want to go up to you and tell you
off. A more grown up version of how your mother would slap the back
of your hand and tell you you’re a “bad boy” for acting the way
you are.
In my head it makes logical sense that
you would see what you’re doing as horrific.
In your head you’ve numbed yourself
down enough to believe the lie that what you’re acting upon is okay.
How am I supposed to change your
mindset? Your way of living? Certainly will not be by death glares,
or my slapping the back of your hand.
I want you to change. From the bottom of my heart I want you to change.
But I don’t know how to show you love, the God Love you need, I hate that I can’t right now. But my
stomach is still in knots as you drive away with her to your
hotel room. My insides are crying out for her.
How dare you.
