25.6.15

Actually, I have been living up to rupture.


Some sentences (not so) randomly selected from my current notebook:

"Is language what gives me access to the future?" "I don't know why I thought it would be okay." "In the mirror I looked like a stranger."

"My life can change drastically and I'll be fine. I can change drastically and be fine. I can leave parts of myself behind and be fine. I am already fine."


Every time you tell a difficult truth it's a rupture in your constructed reality. I've been experimenting with external honesty, and it feels intense but right. I'm already always searching for truth, and expressing it is a logical next step. But you already know I have a fetish for revelation. When I reveal myself in my entirety it takes the onus off of me to pick and choose which parts I want someone to see. It's the only action as simple as total concealment (my other path of choice).



Photo on 6-24-15 at 8.17 PM #3

I took all the color out of my hair.


We often use nakedness as a metaphor for truth-telling. Is there a real connection? Both make you vulnerable, but those are two separate vulnerabilities connected by the metaphor of physical pain for emotional pain (although). When you get down to it, a thin layer of fabric is basically a symbolic protection anyway. As thin as an untruth? 

I've also been doing a lot of swimming. Seven natural and two artificial bodies of water in the last month. I always marvel at how naked a bathing suit allows you to get (and resent how naked, as a female, you're expected to be).

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