Monday night football used to be something that happened on teevee. Now it’s an event for some of my service friends. I’m not that invested in Seattle grid iron but I certainly want my friends to make money. Go Hawks.

I’m tempted to try something new with my stage time. I want to tell stories that hasn’t changed. It’s the way I tell it. My role in observation has run its course and I have to start making myself heard. Even if my voice cracks and I’m off-key. My words come out in half thoughts and I don’t keep the tears in every time. Especially because I turn red and shake on stage. I have no pretense but my appearance does. I blend in well with the entitled.

Yesterday I woke up feeling like an amorphous blob of meat-pus contained in a skin sac held together with tendons. Doing my best to mold self-esteem into something fashionable the most I could tolerate wearing was black pants and a skin-tight halter top. These days, the worse I feel about my body the less of it I need to cover when I go out. I feel so disgusting, might as well be comfortable. The reactions I get are varied.

The only reason I forced myself out of the house was to see a friend from home. He was thrilled with my costume choice. I roll my eyes every time he compliments me because deep down it feels like mockery. The truth is, I don’t know what I look like. It’s a downside to invisibility. Hiding in plain sight, usually no one sees me. I’m never the leading role. At best, I’m a featured extra. I can’t rely on good lighting.

The truth about Seattle is this city can take me or leave me. I want to find a place and yet don’t expect anyone to like me. I often muse that this is my time in the desert. Traversing a vast expanse of indifference and fake compliments, I can only hope I’m heading somewhere. I could attempt to settle somewhere along the way. I just have to prepare for a hermit’s lifestyle. My experience becomes a checkpoint for future travelers. That moment of respite that reminds you why it’s important to keep going.

I can definitely think of worse fates.