this just happened...

I like the way I feel in restaurants. i can walk through and talk loudly and I probably walk a little funny but I feel good. proud of this skin and these clothes and this arrangement of silver on skin. I can order and they hear me and I smile and they smile back. I walk down the sidewalk and when I feel like everyone's staring I don't care, because I'm looking back at them. even if my nails never grow i'll wear dark purple or orange-pink and take their shape boldly. I like the way i feel in bowling alleys ungraceful and weak simply because these are my wrists and biceps and hips. I like the way I feel flying down the road suspended in my own voice singing and my body flowing with the wheel and the brake like I was never afraid of the oncoming traffic. and I like the way i feel at a table with a mug of coffee and a hundred pages before me, waiting to be combed and styled into something I can understand and something I can write about and tell you about.