All that said, something here is shifting. (Not the design, no. As if I had time.) I hope I -- and you, so we -- don't get lost in the sudden realization that sex work is, like it or not, my day job, and someday I want to do something else. Not out of rising above it, or to disappear to the suburbs or academia, and not even because writing pays better. This was all a quest to find the thing to do that would let me write until the writing took over everything else. I don't like working, is that wrong? I'm my own boss in every job I hold now, and that's how I need it. I'm not lazy. I'm actually a good servant. To myself, to language, and to the lives of stories from hellish times. What now, as I give myself over to the book that would not be a blog? (It's a diary, it's a cam capture log, it's a myth, it's porn, it's fiction, it's memoir, it's print, it's performance, slices, dices, and juliennes identity, and for only...) Well, you can stick with me for the old school journal stylings which just won't die (MovableType or nay). You can stick with me, you who've been here since 1999. You can stick to the walls and peel my screams off with me. Stick my photo up and remember who all I am when I forget. I will ask. Originally re: 2004 "election" Tonight re: Ken Wilber (who I usually can't stomach), "God Is A Blogger" ps: thanks for the secret emailed encouraging words...

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