I believe this to be true, even though experts in the field have told me it is a not. An investigation is formal. It is systematic inquiry. It follows rules. It appeals to authority and begs for institutional legitimization. It is official.
I am not.
I am terrible at following rules. I am an unappealing representative to figures of authority and I question institutional legitimacy at every opportunity. The most formal thing about me is the bowtie tattoo on my neck and—if this is going to be a space for honesty—it’s not even all that great of a tattoo. It is the kind of tattoo a friend gives you because he wants to be a tattoo artist but will have to nearly die from a heroin overdose before he is ready to pull his life together enough to become one. It is the kind of tattoo that flatters only in its promise that there are stories above and below the surfaces we see.
I make no pretenses to be objective or to “tell it like it is,” because I am ideologically driven and uncompromising in my beliefs. I lie to protect the secrets of others while I bury my own secrets in plain sight. I refuse to be listened to, and demand to be questioned, even as I keep making statements that sound a lot like answers that aren’t mine to give. It probably sounds now like I am disparaging myself and that too would be a lie.
I love who I am. I follow my heart with the full capacity of my bodymind. I am one of the most passionately and dangerously honest people you will ever meet, and I will stop asking questions of my many selves and the worlds we inhabit when all of us end up dead.
This project, 302 Corrections Drive, is me, asking you, to join us.
To dive in and start asking questions that may not be ours to ask, but are desperate for the asking.