As a model, I spent a large amount of time pretending to be someone else.
But I didn't realize how much of every day, everyone is acting.
You pretend to not sleep with girls in the conservative office, you pretend to have a boyfriend when the boys bother you, you pretend you are someone else, somewhere else, something else.
we have drama clubs, acting classes, drag queens, trannies.
we are not ourselves. we are more ourselves that we'd care to admit.
The other day, I began to wax nostalgic for playing pretend as a kid- but I play dress up + imagination games more now than I ever did then. but now I stay in same world.
I'm not some orphan living alone in the woods (think boxcar children), or a fairy princess with magical powers.
When I go to the hipster club, gay club, burning man party, poetry reading, work- I put on a persona. I dress it up, I act the part (just like anyone).
This rant is inspired by failed attempts to flirt with a girl when I wasn't dressed the part. Inspired by my fake name at photoshoots. Inspired by the girl who said reading this is like reading about "najy" who intimidates her, because she knows and loves "najva".
This rant is inspired by my one friend who is too girly for girls, for kids playing on the playground and making it a pirate ship or quicksand, for the girl who is just insane enough to compliment someone's eyeballs because it's really the first compliment she thought of and not because it sounds interesting.
I want to know if it's possible to be yourself every minute of the day. If pretending is a necessity. I have this hair-brained notion that inside all my facades, there is what is essentially me (visually, it'd be a glowing gold nugget of truth). And sometimes I consciously deny it, or ignore it, or I show bits and pieces of it...
But what if I didn't give a fuck and did what it said all day? ignoring the fact that dressing would be impossible (which outfit is really me? that's a good question to ask if you never want to leave the house)- what would happen?
no fake names, no fake answers for the harassers on the street, no lying, no faux-flirting, no games, no biting my cursing tongue in front of the kids, no wigs, no drag.
I'd lose a lot. a whole lot.
Thankfully, I love my multiple personalities- and they (except for the depressed, self- loathing one) love me right back.
I am tired, speedy, full.
It is morning, though you can't tell in my batcave-room.
I went on a spender drinker thinker bender tonight.
So when I got home, I watched "castle in the sky" and wrote this.
It is 8:18 AM and I am tired of New York City.
I have no idea what I'm going to do with my life and I am trying not to think about it. My ex used to have a rule (which we never really followed) that says not to dwell on deep topics after 2 AM.
So I'll empty my mind here, then try to sleep.
-what grad school? MFA poetry? MA English/Journalism/Sociology? Business classes? Lawyer?
-Why did L have so much girl drama?
-Why are people attracted to people who look just like them? (i.e. not me. lame)
-What a waste of mascara.
-Crookers kid cudi remix pretty much owns my soul.
-Though I'm not always having sex, my bed is rarely empty.
-Tomorrow night/ sunday AM I leave for philly.
-We need more smutty artists.
-I'm fat. I'm fat. I'm fat. I'm fat. I'm fat. I'm fat. I'm fat. I'm fat. I'm fat.
-does having sex on the bathroom floor with someone 30 minutes after I meet them make them less attractive to me? does that make me a bad person if it does?
-I should get HIV tested.
Goodnight. morning. whatever the fuck.