Traveler Between Worlds
Identity. A name. An image.
Dozens, hundreds of stories about who I am — or who I once was.
I’ve arrived again in a world where identity matters, where the outside defines you, categorizes you.
But I…
no longer fit anywhere.
Dressed in what my mother would call “charity clothes,” no makeup, no dye in my hair, I ask myself:
Do I still have value?
…
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