Life is hard, and this year is especially rough for people like me who have had to use the Panoramic to explain why I haven’t made friends in college. Lately, I’ve noticed more voices in my head, so clearly I’m doing well. By well, I mean that the voices got loud enough to block out the screeching on Comm Ave. I have so many friends up there it’s getting hard to remember all of them at this point — I constantly get mix up Victoria and Frederick because they’re both so loud, and Jared, love the guy but he’s so distracting — so I took the liberty of naming them all for everyone’s (my own) convenience.
Male or female, we all have a wild frat guy in our head that only thinks of sex. Getting a COVID test is a thrill for this guy — all the swabbing, the audience, the terrifying number of glass surfaces, he’s a real freak like that. Like with most of his lectures, this guy just shows up when he feels like it, and, wow, does he make life interesting when he does show up. Honestly, I’m worried about Jared. All these thoughts about getting down with strangers next to the Rhett Bench, honestly I just want him (me) to settle down and find someone special to have these thoughts about for forever (or at least for like a month).
This seems normal, I am of course a Swiftie, so this makes sense right? Well actually, she’s a pyro This bitch always wonders what it’s like to burn down a forest. I picture her as another great Taylor: Taylor Dooley (Lavagirl). She is a real girlboss, pink hair and all. Truly, I don’t think she could get through an orgo lab because there are way too many chances for her to just light everything on fire.
No Vicki or Tori for her, this queen goes full 19th century. Always fun to chat with, she is responsible for all those thoughts that tell me I am the hottest thing on the planet. She can be a bit of a drag too, since she also takes over those “well dear, that outfit is just dreadful” and “Alas, we cannot all be the fairest sister” feelings. Her duality really keeps things interesting, and I count on her for also being in charge of my terrible British accent, love.
This pompous ass takes control of all those imposter syndrome thoughts because of course a man is telling a woman she’s not worthy of where she is and what she has in life. We’re really not on good terms, me and ol’ Fred. He’s a big yeller, and I am not emotionally stable enough to handle that 24/7. I’m realizing now that I may have just amplified some unresolved daddy issues into this disembodied voice that says I’ll never amount to anything, so let’s pack that up for now.
Well, really glad I could clear that all up with myself. Now I really should go, I can tell Victoria is feeling very— “pardon me, if I may interrupt, what was it that you were going to say, you listless wench??”