they were excited to be here, laid out their
clothes before the first class—not because it mattered to them but they thought
it might matter to someone else. now, in their seat thousands of miles away
from anyone else, the familiar warning sweat prickled down their back and in
their armpits. they spoke up, equal parts participation and avoidance, refusing
to acknowledge their hands shaking on the track pad and their pulse blaring a
disjointed rhythm in their neck. as their mouths moved they tracked each face
on the screen for any sign those listening noticed that they were different,
strange, other. the screen faces revealed nothing but they filled in the blank
anyway— low voice, full of themself, closed off, every beat of their heart
counted off another impossible claim. finally the next screen face spoke and
everything unclenched; they felt like they had run a mile too fast, they felt
dizzy. it was intoxicating sometimes to be surrounded by faces that look like
yours and feel an imposter anyhow.
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