Sunday, January 25, 2009

camera obscura

Image Hosting by PictureTrail.comImage Hosting by PictureTrail.comImage Hosting by PictureTrail.com
Image Hosting by PictureTrail.comImage Hosting by PictureTrail.comImage Hosting by PictureTrail.com
Image Hosting by PictureTrail.comImage Hosting by PictureTrail.comImage Hosting by PictureTrail.com

Today I found the stack of photobooth pictures that used to adorn my fridge. I stared at them for a good 10 minutes, unable to recognize the constant in all of them. That hair, those good times. Whose are they? Certainly not mine. I feel like I'm staring at a dead girl. The people in these photos have gone on to do all sorts of things- some have moved away, some are having babies, some are in love now. Some are out of love. Some I see more, most I see less. I am the same. I died in September, and now I'm just waiting to be born again.
I don't recognize myself when I look in the mirror, either. Here, I am totally alien. Bald like a baby, except for blond downy hair that seems to be sprouting up everywhere. I wonder if I will be blond now. eep. I don't want to be a whole new person just yet.

For posterity's sake, here was my radiation burn last week:
Image Hosting by PictureTrail.com

It's so strange having a burn eat up your skin seemingly out of nowhere. Lamest super power ever.

Another effect of radiation? Laziness. My dreams are becoming too easily decipherable. Last night I dreamt I had a boxing match with death. He was eight feet tall and shrouded and absolutely terrifying. He then turned into a man that suspiciously resembled Ryan Seacrest. I couldn't touch him, lest I die, so I boxed with red knitted mittens on my hands. Thanks subconcious. I already knew that I like boxing and knitting and that I am still a little scared of death and definitely very scared of Ryan Seacrest.

No comments:

Loading....

Post a Comment