Imagine What My Body Would Sound Like [entries|friends|calendar] I Follow With My Eyes 'Til They Crash [ userinfo | livejournal userinfo ] [ calendar | livejournal calendar ]

[28 Jul 2003|12:50pm] I bet I can guess why you're here right now. Maybe. Well it's your intrigue, your curiosity getting the best of you and you want something sad and secretive. Despite the humor and irony I find in the overall situation, it remains virtually the same as it was before. With all the sad secrets. I've learned to emotionally prostitute myself and I'll explain why: prostitutes are sexual performance artists, they are giving you everything and making you believe it's real. My writing is performance and I'm up on stage making you believe it's real. You can take that statement how you want but it doesn't mean that I'm a liar. I'm emotionally removed. I've done this so many times. You might think you know me but this is just a performance project and you are one of the blank-faced people in the audience who I can't see. But I do know that you are: a) Sitting in the balcony watching me with starry wet eyes wishing you weren't so far away. b) A friend with front-row-seats beaming with pride at your friend. c) Yawning and slouching in your seat, bored, distracted, and unimpressed. You think I'm pretentious. d) Sitting in the back pointing and laughing with your friends. Or any variation of that. I know that my audience is made up by this equation and this is comforting because now I expect very little from you. This pie chart of percentages has saved me from emotional suicide, and you from a power trip. -- Rock Star With Words No. 5, Korinna Irwin

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