This feeling also, that if I don’t write the poems, and write this blog, and take the pictures, that, essentially,if I am not looked at, I won’t really exist. I suppose I need to talk to John Berger about that.
I’m not really here
except for the glowing red light
under my armNothing foriegnn bodie p. 32
A voice resonates in my throat,
so i suppose it’s mine.“Cats and Doves” foriegnn bodie, p. 54
Otohime 
Yes, exactly—this completely resonates with me. Except it’s “heard” for me, rather than “looked at.” I believe we are polar opposites as far as the “exhibitionistic” quality of wanting to be seen (I hide)—-so I think these feelings are not particularly about personality traits. (You may disagree, though, considering your Tzara quote on the right spine of this blog). To feel that way is NOT a pathology, to my mind — it’s a reality.