a Cheap Holiday

Cheap Holiday

Welcome to a cheap holiday in my life. At least you get to go home at the end of the day!

Saturday, September 20, 2003

What does it mean when I feel more comfortable accompanying a friend to observe him getting his nipples pierced than I do going to an average bar to drink with a friend and her sisters? What does it mean that I feel more at-home wearing a corset and hanging out with people that flog each other at an S&M dance event than I do making small talk with a so-called "normal" guy by a pool table? Does it mean anything? Does it mean anything that I weep in the car while driving home because I find PJ Harvey's voice so pure and the gravity of her lyrics so pressing and piercing?

I went with a male friend today to lend moral support as he was getting his nipples pierced. He's a very average-looking man, with a very corporate job. He and I were laughing about being a freak that can hide in plain sight. He mentioned he saw a bumpersticker that said "I give off sounds that only other freaks can hear." It was both silly and poignant and honest and whimsical.

I know that I'm not alone. The Gospel of Thomas the Apostle, one of the texts discovered at Nag Hammadi and later rejected by the Church as heretical, writes: "Jesus said: If you bring forth what is within you, what you bring forth will save you. If you do not bring forth what is within you, what you do not bring forth will destroy you." I know there is an entire freak community that I can turn to, that perhaps even normal people feel isolated at times. But sometimes the comfort, the security of normalcy feels completely beyond me, like a luxury that I can never be allowed. It must be reassuring, to have normal concerns, normal aspirations, normal fears, normal relationships, normal interests. But I don't think I will ever know that.

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