February 7, 2015

During my first week of college, I wasn’t sure how beneficial the university’s photography program was going to be; so far, I’m glad to say I’ve been learning a few things here and there. Most of the other students aren’t as experienced as I am, so they’re definitely learning more, but I’m still getting some interesting tidbits from some good teachers. While some of them follow a strict and simple rulebook in their teaching (which I think is boring), others provide rare and insightful information they’ve discovered through years of experience instead of reciting theoretical guidelines I can easily find on the internet. I’m personally looking to break the classic rules of photography and engage with individuals who are capable of thinking outside the box. That said, I’m definitely staying away from people who overthink and analyze their art to the point of showing off.

If I had to describe my type of photography, I’d call it spontaneous; I look for unique moments and unusual elements in my surroundings, and I capture them. I like paying attention to details and seeing things people wouldn’t normally stop to look at. So far, I’ve bonded with one person in my class; Carly. She’s one of the few girls who are actually talented and down to earth. She’s artistically versatile and has a particular fondness for shooting with film. When I asked her why, she said it was because of the unexpected surprises she’d face while filming; things like light leaks, color fluctuations of expired film and other cool camera quirks. In today’s world, artists are so obsessed with everything being high quality that aesthetic seems to be the main point of every form of art, and although I do appreciate the details and slickness provided by digital photography, I find it refreshing to be able to go back to older cameras; I have a thing for grainy images, and so does she. I’ve had some very interesting conversations with her, and I love how at the end of the day, each of us goes back to doing our own thing with our own, particular style.

Living with Joey is proving to be a difficult challenge day after day. Some days, he’d stay home all day and watch TV with the volume up to its maximum which drives me insane. He also rarely leaves the apartment and so his constant presence is blocking my ability to have private shows online which obviously affects my financial situation. Yesterday, he went on a road trip with one of his friends, and I was so relieved when he walked out the door; I had the place all to myself, and I didn’t have to worry about him coming in unexpectedly and catching me performing. It was fine when I started, but I couldn’t help but be distracted by little noises coming from people in the building; noises I kept on mistaking to be coming from the apartment itself, thinking Joey was here although I knew he wouldn’t be back until the next day. I tried to remain calm and reassured, but apparently I was too paranoid that my performance turned into a weird, unsynchronized stimulated choreography with jerky gestures; it almost looked like I was so inexperienced and didn’t know what I was doing. I was hoping my nakedness was enough for the viewer I was privately performing for, but I quickly noticed that it wasn’t.

You’d never think men behind computer screens can be incredibly perceptive when it comes to my mood. They can immediately sense if I’m not into what I’m doing even when I try to fake it. Getting off isn’t always easy for me so going the extra mile to satisfy those captivated viewers takes a lot of will and effort. I’d stroke my penis repetitively until I orgasm, and by the time that happens, it feels like my hand is about to fall off. Being a performer isn’t about yourself or your satisfaction, it’s about the people paying you. My vanity is slowly diminishing day after day, and I don’t need to be watched or complimented to boost my confidence anymore. I’m just another body in the sea of online sex. I don’t want to quit doing this, but I think taking some time off would be good for me.

I acquired myself a bicycle left unattended across the street from Prairie Lights and rode it around as I looked for decent apartments. I found one on Van Buren street that I’ll most likely be moving into, but the landlord won’t cut me any slack and demanded two months of rent in advance as well as a ridiculously high moving-in fee. I still haven’t paid the money I owed to Ryan, and that alone is stressing me out. I need to prove to him that he can trust me. I have to think of a way to get the money; fast.

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