"It's affectation, compensating for a lack of content."
I was going to post that short story I wrote for my class last week, the one with violence and poetic impulses. I copy-and-pasted it into Blogger, removing the "dint" that my tutor had red-penned as SILLY. He wrote that my line about the shirt was "stupendous" and though I think stupendous is a silly word, it was a balm for last week's critical burn.
I check his notes for more dints. Corny. At least that isn't in caps. I wonder if it might be a little presumptuous to publish a short story on a personal blog. Stu pen dous - I roll it out, syllable by syllable. Dous pronounced dus? All of a sudden I lose confidence in that too.
"It looks more like you than the others."
Annie emailed me a photo of myself, lying in the bath. My hair is immersed in the milky paint, my curls creeping back in, black dark against the white water. My face is in profile, a small chin and a pointy nose, and my right breast and shoulder are exposed. It's black and white and beautiful. I want the world to see me looking like that. I want to compensate for all the days when I don't.
I think he's right, that it does look more like me. It feels more like me, at least.
But I don't want to publish it on my blog either.
I was going to post that short story I wrote for my class last week, the one with violence and poetic impulses. I copy-and-pasted it into Blogger, removing the "dint" that my tutor had red-penned as SILLY. He wrote that my line about the shirt was "stupendous" and though I think stupendous is a silly word, it was a balm for last week's critical burn.
I check his notes for more dints. Corny. At least that isn't in caps. I wonder if it might be a little presumptuous to publish a short story on a personal blog. Stu pen dous - I roll it out, syllable by syllable. Dous pronounced dus? All of a sudden I lose confidence in that too.
"It looks more like you than the others."
Annie emailed me a photo of myself, lying in the bath. My hair is immersed in the milky paint, my curls creeping back in, black dark against the white water. My face is in profile, a small chin and a pointy nose, and my right breast and shoulder are exposed. It's black and white and beautiful. I want the world to see me looking like that. I want to compensate for all the days when I don't.
I think he's right, that it does look more like me. It feels more like me, at least.
But I don't want to publish it on my blog either.
