doreen peri responds
i post my original work because i have to. i have to write or i will spontaneously combust. i write on litkicks because i'm an addicted performer. i require an audience. i get a thrill when i'm read and people reply to me. i love being on stage. i'm so frigging honest, it's insane. i am an exotic word dancer. i strip my soul off until you can read my heart bleed. if you email me a $20 bill it will go directly into my G-key and i will write you a personal piece. i choose my own music to accompany the dance, usually live, piano & flute. my imagery is my costume, my metaphors are my make-up, the glitter of cadence, rhythm, assonance and rhyme, my footlights. Litkicks is my stage. the curtain is up 24/7. i stop by when i have lines, enter, articulate, exit. i live for applause. one day it will be curtain call and then comes the cast party. i hope i last that long. that's why i'm here.
i post in utterances mostly because i'm following Lightning Rod around and this is where he sits and i can't be away from him for more than 10 minutes a day or i will keel over from lack of air. i have to reply to what other's write because if i don't, they won't reply to me.
i'm here because i have to be here. i can't figure out how to get outa this box. is there an exit route? most of the time i love it here being around you amazing writers and wonderful friends but sometimes my back hurts and my hands get tired and my eyelids get so heavy from staring into a glowing cathode tube like a moth, that i end up typing with them closed. more often than not, i write in a trance. i have no clue what i'm saying until it's said and i'm honored and proud to be read.
i'm looking for feedback of the communicative analysis type. communicate or analyze. i have been told i need analysis and since i can get it here for free. tell me which lines hit you, which images made you feel whatever it made you feel. reply in verse, reply in prose, gimme a nod or a smile. tell me it was great or just say hi. i like to communicate because when i'm not communicating, i feel so lonely and disconnected.
hell, what am i saying. this can't be true. all i really want is applause. don't critique me or i'll leave. (guess if i get some critiques, i'll know it's time to bow out and that's ok. just throw me a rose as i go)
people reply when they want to and don't when they don't and it's as simple as that. ah, and then there are the lurkers. yes, my friends, the internet has Lurkers, slinky, silent anonymous people, hiding in their own living rooms and bedrooms and offices, not saying a word. the Lurkers will never reply. they are an insidious bunch. they know us but they refuse to be known.