There is a go-go dancer at mod night who i can't help but watch every time i am on the dance floor. She is beautiful (like an egg or the moon or spring flowers) and she knows it, but she is also obviously insecure. There is something so touching about the way she accidentally flaunts her transparency (how absurd does that sound?). The other go-go girl is the better dancer according to some, but I am less drawn to her. I admire people who are able to properly occupy a persona, but something in me responds to vulnerability.

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"