I should just live like this. Abandon my ablutions. Let my teeth go yellow with rot, gums red and receding. Allow my skin to break out, forget exfoliation. Let the dead flakes congregate, create societies of zits on my face. Evil empires. I should let my hair gnarl together. Form a giant nestlike mass on top of my head. I could keep things in there. Credit cards. Snacks. I should develop a smell so terrible that no one will ever come near me. Create a force field of stink. Wouldn’t that be easier? To be left alone in my misery. To lean into what I feel, match my exterior to my interior.
