Tonight, I told a story about sexual abuse. I kind of wish I didn’t. It wasn’t an easy thing to express. In words, I can craft my meaning with context. In person, I have to rely on tone and facial cues to fully express myself. I don’t often tell the story I have in my head but I usually get the point across. This was one of those nights.
Dick pics. I told a story about dick pics. It wasn’t the worst story I’ve ever told. Might even be the best. The stage at St. Mark’s has a spotlight just bright enough to blind me. I did my best to emote, but ultimately it was a game of timing. The adrenaline of being on a stage didn’t overwhelm me this time. The fear is still there but my desire to tell the story wins out. My delivery still needs help but as a good friend once said, I get the point across.