Toe In The Pool

Staring at all this white space. It's hard to begin. It's hard to find the thread. It's hard to even remember what I'd want to say to you anyway. Beginings are tricky things. I could go on and on about the logistics of costume changes or about a wooden and steel apparatus that helps me unspool red ribbon - but we haven't talked in so long I feel like that would be like opening to the middle of a very boring book. Over the past couple of months you've become this relic - transmissions from the midnight radio - faint, dusty, less and less a part of me...more of a fixation. Keeping up with the bloggers. And now I've got you in my hot little hands and what...where are all the words...where are all the stories...the fucked up and the funny shit of the last few months...beginnings are a delicate time...they can't be forced.