Discontinuity

I just walked a good five miles or so in the rain. I was out of sorts at the beginning, trying to get away. It always amazes me how inspired I feel by the landscape of Chicago's residential streets. The part of my brain that perceives beauty feels fully stimulated when I take a post-midnight walk through an unfamiliar area. I'll stare through a window and construct a life for the person who lives inside. I want to put that into words.

Anyway, I was in a funk. I'd seen a video of this girl, now doing porn. She's 19. Those earlier feelings of inadequacy, they were there a little bit, but what got to me and really got me down was seeing her vulnerability, tinged with that awkward optimism endemic to teenagers. I've seen all of these pictures of her just doing things, hanging out with her friends, and sort of being young, and now I see her doing porn.

To see what I perceived as innocence ruined in a very public way freaked me out. Which isn't fair, because I'm pro-porn and I'm judging the hell out of the whole affair: her, for throwing away her modesty, and the pornsmiths for taking advantage of her. Both of which are bullshit. If someone offered me decent money to do porn, I'd do it in a heartbeat, and it wouldn't be exploitation. Would it? I don't know. I don't think so, but I don't know.

I guess a lot of it is seeing the arc of a transperson from before transition, to after, to porn. It bums me out. I can't bear to look for a job as myself, and here's more validation that sex work is the most viable career for a tranny. This girl kind of formed the standard against which I measure myself, for better or worse, and the comparison depresses me for reasons I can't fully talk out. I want to make progress in my life, so if, god forbid, some guy or girl out there uses me as a yardstick, I'll point them in a positive direction.

I want to keep writing. I want to make money from writing, because I can't think of anything else I can do. I want people to read this, or whatever it becomes.


I'm going to start an experiment: if you read this sentence, go down to the bottom of the post, click my name, and send me an email. Tell me something, anything you want, about your world.