Coming clean?

I've been toying with the idea of outing myself. Looking at my internet foot print if you will, it wouldn't take much to figure out who I am. Then I had a second revelation, virtually no one reads this blog! What would I be doing? Outing myself to myself? I'm pretty sure I can handle the shock, but fuck it, why make things easier for the rest of the world?---the one that isn't paying attention anyway.

The Story so far and abbreviated....

It was The Crow It was James O'Barr. Laughing Clowns from the Blackest ID The Joker's disciples a Dead Man's Hand of gangsta minstrelsy swinging guns like cocks swinging cocks like soft gummi worms It was the Crow It was James O'Barr there was violence rape torture They were the Laughing Clowns I became the sad clown and she became Thomas the Doubter Shock Shock Shock seperation then anxiety then more seperation and anxiety I left with the shame of infection I wanted to hit her wanted to make her stop needing me just enough that I could breath My wounds were psychic She had a name for her pain; it was rape I had no name so it named me I was the object of the object, an appendage of the victim cast off in a bathtub dusted with kitty litter and bath rain He can destroy a thing controls a thing but you can't destroy or control without the name so I wandered into a dojo and I did not leave

I trained for over a year only to be smited by a spiteful body I'm grounded by a birth defect a hip defect and I'm waiting for an MRI and that brings us here, but if I don't start reclaiming the things I CAN name it will be nothing, that's the story so far without nuiance without all the little violent melodramas that come with life

A brief state of the body

Pain. My quads have gone nuclear. They are the real source of the pain, not the knees themselves. Sitting upright serves to aggravate them; hence, sparse blogging. Will resume regular blogging duties when normalcy returns--or a painless approximation of it.

Bragging

I used the word "stentorian" in the post below. This pleases me greatly. It's one of those words you really like, but rarely have occasion to use (ex: exponentially, gargantuan)

A musing

I've been toying with an idea.

See, since I got this here fancy shmancy web cam I've been brainstorming ways to use it for the blog. One of my ideas, is to record yours truly (audio only) reading a few poems I've written since the torture/rape. There is really one thing stopping me--correction, two things. One, privacy.
Two, ::doing my best Gollum impression:: we hates the sound of our voice. It burns my precious; it burns! Smeagel loses all objectivity, everything sounds so nasal, precious!

I think it would be cool for the two people reading this blog to hear my voice, and a different, yet strangely obvious way, for me to play around with the performance aspects of writing. (Sidenote: my girlfriend has a fantastic reading voice: strong dramatic range, good sense of cadence and rhythm.)

Would doing so count as publishing a work? Hmm. I hate lit mags and their namby pamby rules. They burn! Gollum! Gollum!

New Title

Thinking the blog needs a new title. The title is a bit obscure. DOn't think most people would even guess the reference. "Green Cross/Red Blood" There's a criminologist at FSU who has developed a green cross project. It's aimed at survivors of severe trauma. Anyway, I barely know anything about it to start with, and I reckon people see the title floating down the google river and think "insurance company? Crazy christian website?" Hmm. I need something that willlet people know what the blog is about.