From my journal, dated March 24th 2013
A spoken word poem that I was, am, and will be forever too afraid to perform:
I watch the world through a peephole
One eye closed I watch reality warping
Until I feel like I’m in a fishbowl
Some say eavesdropping — I call it listening
It’s the only way I learnt how to join in
These walls are paper thin.
This wasn’t our first choice – apartment-style was
But they put us in conventional rez,
Like it would better suit us;
But we are anything but conventional.
Or quiet or clean.
We can make it sound like the movies that we’ve seen:
The fire alarms and the holes in the wall
Yet we know that we are so much more than the sum of those things
that we only did to down our first shot of freedom.
And in all reality, it wasn’t that real; so much was hidden
Maybe that peephole warped things or maybe it bent them true
If only we knew.