Your Closet Runs an Airbnb for Former Versions of You
Day 1 of 7: Quantum Releasing Before the Solstice Portal
Your closet operates like an unregulated Airbnb where every version of yourself from 2009 onwards still has an active booking. The “I’ll wear heels to work daily” version? Five stars, still reviewing. The “this is my hot girl summer body” version? Left a swimsuit with tags on, never checked out, somehow owes you emotional damages. Somewhere behind winter coats lives a blazer you bought because a podcast told you to “dress for the job you want.” The blazer is still waiting. So is the job. Neither has texted back.
Your closet holds corpses of former selves. Skins you’ve shed but never buried. Every hanger suspends a woman you used to perform, and your present body foots the energy bill for ghosts who don’t pay rent.
Open that drawer you call “comfy clothes.” Go ahead. Count how many items belong to men who didn’t stay, jobs that broke you, versions of yourself who believed that specific shade of grey would finally make her look like she had her life together. You’re not sleeping in fabric…
