sprawling on a pin

I just made a pact with tara to start this blog. I am going to attempt to write about everyday life and try to carve out a space in which i can attempt to be less self-censoring and shake this desire to have an incredible amount of control over how i represent myself. I will try to write about the books I read, the people I meet, the strange things that happen, and the everyday battles. I will try to veer away from poetic musings and expose my experience with the stinking war of being human in this mad world. I will attempt to wrench myself away from imaginary space and expose (parts of) the hungry, dirty, sensual, dumb, and imperfect creature I am. It isn't going to be easy and it may not be very interesting,

"And I have known the eyes already, known them all—
The eyes that fix you in a formulated phrase,
And when I am formulated, sprawling on a pin,
When I am pinned and wriggling on the wall,
Then how should I begin
To spit out all the butt-ends of my days and ways?
And how should I presume?"

t.s. eliot "the love song of J. alfred Prufrock"