Seeking

In my office at work hangs a printed flag, the print is of a window pane set in stone. It's adorned with a lovely flowery window box. This flag hangs where a window would go, if a window was in my office. I didn't put it there, a co-worker felt I needed it.
This is how I have been feeling recently, it is as if there is a printed image where the real Emily should be: Clearly, I'll be riding the identity crisis roller coaster for the rest of my life.

This kind of mental image masturbation reminds me of when PETA ran an add campaign in 2003. The campaign called "Holocaust on your plate" compared holocaust victims to slaughter house victims (chickens and pigs). I was pretty sure I was Jewish the day I saw that add. It was the first time I was angry enough to actually write multiple letters to the PETA people, their response was of course a generic e-mail sent to anyone who ever made a PETA related complaint. I obsessed about the differences in the two scenarios. I kept thinking about how chickens are not haunted by their own images. I am pretty sure they have no ability to recall either. I kept envisioning myself as one of the few remaining holocaust survivors staring at an advertisement comparing my experience at the camps with that of pig in a slaughter house. In one of the campaign posters (which has magically disappeared from all internet searches) there is a picture of a shell of a man staring into the camera wearing his concentration camp attire side by side with a inserted modern day picture of a pig in a cage. Did I mention I don't keep kosher?

I am not sure how the fake flag window, my identity and "Holocaust on a plate" all connect, I just know my head is filled with images weighing me down.