I’ve been making copious amounts of copies of myself lately.

I feel as though I peel bits of myself at work. I make copies of the Work Eunice. I have to leave Life Eunice outside the doors.

Outside those doors, I make copies of Outside World Eunice. There are many versions, you see. I have the Confident Sorority Girl Eunice copy, the Smart WashU Graduate Eunice, the Artsy Slam Poetry Eunice, the Passionate Social Justice Eunice, the Party Woohoo Eunice, and the Smiling Midwestern Girl Eunice.

And I find that I leave copies of myself here and there.

When I return home, I feel stripped. I feel empty. I can’t figure out who the Real Eunice is. When I look in the mirror, I barely recognize myself.

I’ve learned to make copies of myself that fit into a situation, morph into the appropriate mode. I change depending on who I am with. I’m not always good at figuring out when I need to whip out which copy, but I still do it.

I’ve made so many copies of myself, that I can’t figure out which is real.



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  1. Mike

     /  January 20, 2014

    Yep. With the ink fading a little bit more each time.

  2. Mike

     /  January 20, 2014

    As the Ink fades.

    • Mike

       /  January 20, 2014

      Here’s the problem with Gravatars and not showing a timestamp on comments: nobody knows that I was intoxicated and it was 4 AM.


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