Edit April 7th 2026: My name is Christine.
I don’t have a name, at least not one that feels like mine. My younger sister is Samantha and I’m just a fragment, an echo of someone who was and could have been. I suppose I belong to some form of plural system? I don’t even know, it’s all so confusing but I mostly come out in dreams and then I am around as a lingering sense throughout the day.
I belong in the host mind’s experience of otherworldly serendipity, of reading Flowers in the Attic, of watching Picnic at Hanging Rock, in the reach to the past of an old cross stitch or a vintage crochet work. I am an echo, an assortment of dreams and ideas that a teenage girl dreamt before she was forever changed. I want to heal. I want to express myself and be free to do so without the current mind feeling obligated to identify with me and be me.
If this is confusing, please know it’s not on purpose, I genuinely don’t know how else to express myself.
