Identity confusion: You're Not the Only One

It’s 11 PM and my shift just ended and my back feels like a row of rusted staples. …

I don't know if this counts as a real problem but I’ve been sitting here for two hours just staring at the ceiling. …

I don't even know why I'm typing this but I can't sleep and the heater in this apartment makes the loudest clicking sound—anyway I'm 59 years old and I moved to the city six months ago because I… …

Like you’ve finally managed to put on the real clothes and the expensive perfume, but you just feel like a ghost wearing a human suit. …

So I remain a silent, lethiferous shadow. …

It’s 2 AM and the crickets out here in the holler are louder than my own thoughts, which is saying something because my brain is basically a browser with fifty tabs open and half of them are frozen. …

I’m sitting on the cold tile of the bathroom floor at 2 AM because it’s the only room in this house with a lock that actually works and I feel like I’m losing my mind. …

ive been trying to write this paper for my anthropology class about cultural identity and i keep deleting everything because it feels too clean on the page. …

I mean really, does anyone else spend their lunch hour sitting on a cold steel Matco toolbox feeling the heat of the shop floor seep into their old bones while everyone else is in the breakroom… …

You reach a certain age—let’s say sixty-eight, though the number feels like a prank someone played on me—and you realize you’ve spent your entire life as a placeholder. …

I have five missed calls from my mom because her glucose monitor is "acting weird" and I’m out here drinking a sixteen dollar gin and tonic trying to remember how to flirt. …