Here are some later free writes from the Prosthesis Unit. Sometimes when nothing is coming to me, i use a persona to address the topic:
How I Fell in Love With My Prosthesis:
It makes me inhibit myself just so that I could/can get a clear image of what I look like so that I can someday form an identity. What DO blonde girls wear these days, (and what don't they)? Who are some role models folks can recognize me and my beauty by, like signposts on a highway I wake up and correct my features- into a certain pattern, a certain colour, a certain size, so i can say hello! there i am again. Lines become clearer and darker others less so. My phantom glasses all come in little tubes and bottles that half the population is pushed and the other half prides themselves in knowing what I do with them. Or else they consciously don't want to know. Thats women's business. He likes me clean. One attraction, one daily, on recognition, one identity for another. I tried to give it up once. It was unnecessary, I convinced him he convinced me. But I couldn't I was unprepared for my day. My face wasnt facing quite yet. Don't shy away from your senses, girls. Wearing the face that I keep in a jar by the door is anybody fooled, is it i who is fooled? Am i one of those girls with an entirely prosthetic face? Have I been made an example of? One day I will say leached and bruised, ugly, yes, but at least its honest. An then I'll see Amelie or a magazine of my brother's and say "I could look like that".
