Yesterday I saw "Becoming Jane," and realized that although I don't live in a time where my options are limited to only those of a certain financial status (although I wouldn't mind, being currently unemployed and all), I'm limited in the scarcity of mutual romantic feeling in my life. Unlike Jane Austen, I haven't the luxury of a forbidden love. It's been years since I've really felt anything for anyone that has lasted longer than a couple of weeks, and I'm currently wondering if my heart has shriveled up into an uninspired, jaded little prune.
I have been glad for this year of being Mixtine. Spinning out, navigating the politics of DJ-ing, throwing myself into something I love in the face of my own fears. And though I don't plan on stopping those efforts to put myself out there as a DJ, I also wonder if 31 is the year for me to put my heart out there again.
August 11 in London
