Write it down for Pete's sake

6 month, 1 year, 3 year, 5 year. Plans. I had them.

Fuck that sunscreen song

Who am I? I just looked at my Facebook album of profile pictures to see. Ok, I like a healthy mix of glamour shots and funny shots. I’m self-deprecating but not in a humblebrag way. My hair looks healthy – clearly I eat organic foods so it’s obvious that I’m paying attention to Gwyneth Paltrow’s product "advice" and suggestions. Ok. Good. I’m not a see-through living inside my mother's house. I’m still relevant, I’m still a cool person. I exist. I just saw it on Facebook! I exist in the context and framework of a 20-something Known Individual Who Does Things. I haven’t slipped away into the black hole of suburbia life in your 30’s. That Golden Retriever? Not mine. No way. I have a sleeveless shirt with a threatening tarot card on it. I have stacks and stacks of literature next to my bed. A healthy mix. Some junk, some health books, Richard Hofsteader,Vanity Fair, Harry Potter, Sheila Heti. Good thing I have all those things. All of the things.