just read your last two blogs. i dont know if its cause i know you, i dont know if im making connections in my mind that arnt there... i read them and they felt so intimate, kinda like i shouldnt be reading them and i wondered how you showed yourself like that, is it real.. or is it fiction? but i know its not fiction, but, but, perhaps its an incredible compliment to your writing, it just felt very raw and i reacted to it - and is there a line you draw somewhere between you and blogger you? its none of my business and im really asking for myself and my own desire/fear of exposing myself (probably what i need to do most), and now that i think about it - christ, youve got a whole book coming out about you!! - Kate Lee
So we make choices. Some people chose to hide behind privacy. I hide out in the open. Honesty becomes my smoke screen. Here I am, naked I become invisible. You see me and you take the things that resonate with your life and I become you. I am you. I am your insecurities and your joys and your passion. I am the secret of your lovemaking. I am your furtive masturbation. I am the moments when you fall publicly and must pick yourself up and dust yourself off and you walk away with your pride hurt but it is my fall, my pride, and so you remain safe behind the public striptease that I am performing day after day.
Some times I become tired.
Some times I am dry and slow to orgasm. Some days I cannot hold the mirror up to myself. Today is a hard day. Today I do not impress myself. Today I would shake my head and drop my props and sit down on the stage exhausted. Today I would walk away from my life if I were able. Yes Kate. I am honest and it is horribly revealing and some people look away, and some keep staring as if my life were a traffic accident in slow motion. But if you asked me to find myself in 380 days of blogging, I might glean a moment or two. There, I might say, there I am as I catch a glimpse of that person who shrugs back at me in the mirror. The rest of it is all about you. I am you. There is nothing of me left to see at all.