Most of my eighteenth year was spent in dramatic revelation. With every rejection and every inspirational YouTube video, some thickness of outer skin shed and a slimy new creature would crawl from the crumpled folds at my feet. At second glance, Id find only the ground and old skin still clinging to bones. Introspection is grasping the coattails of a fleeting, hallucinated self.I squint my eyes to see if this is really change. Its dark. Julia Soboleva made this picture. I imagine myself as the red and the suited.I'm not sure which levers to flip.