Chapter 3 - No Socks, No Future
I saw the years of my life spaced along a road in the form of telephone poles, threaded together by wires. I counted one, two, three . . . nineteen telephone poles, and then the wires dangled into space, and try as I would, I couldn’t see a single pole beyond the nineteenth.
—Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar
Suggested browsing song: Serotonin by Call Me Karizma
Enter my dissociated era. Truly looking back on these pictures I don't even recognize myself. I look incredibly dead inside.
I also gained a lot of weight during this time. The body keeps the score.
Smoked a lot.
Drank a lot.
Oh and I also had hot pink hair.
Masks were still a thing.
Went out 2 to 3 times a week (I literally have no idea where I pulled the energy to do this).
Dressed for the male gaze rather than myself.
Some of these pictures aren't bad ... I'm just like ... who is that?? Completely different plane of consciousness.
I had no idea what my personality was and my actions and existence were completely influenced by everyone around me.
More nights out drinking.
I literally took a grad picture in a liquor store and thought it was cute 😪 College sucked me right into drinking culture.
Dying inside ... but the grad pics still came clean 🤞🏻 You would never catch me in heels now though omg.
Okay so we graduated. What the fuck now??