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PIS

September 19, 2015

On a day like another, the realization came to me, while in the barber’s chair, that my anxiety had melted away. Unlike in other social situations, there was here someone to tell me just how to hold my head, to prompt me with hands or fingers, words or even the occasional grunt, in short, to orient me in a way which I sorely need when confronted with people and find myself uncertain as how to position the various parts of the thing I call a body.

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