An Unguarded Moment
There were times when your pulse raced. There were times when you forgot to eat until 1:30 in the morning and stumbled to the car, stomach devouring you. There were times when, though the entire force of your will was bent upon it, you couldn’t stop laughing. There were times. Now they seem curious, like an oil painting of yourself hanging in a gallery, by some Renaissance master whose name you can’t recall because he’s not famous enough. There are thousands of these in your gallery. Gallery of times that you now know were just a lull.
Like it was just us
“In rare (and increasingly rarer) unguarded moments on Twitter, typically late on a Saturday night, I sometimes post something anxious, something about my life, something that’s not my professional face, but a glance at what I really think about.”
Akin to Silence
All minds were spotlights to him. All heads, mirrors. All mouths as loud and constant as the horns of fire engines; all eyes their hoses. To attract attention was to set himself ablaze, so on tiptoe he went. To lurk in the eaves of bridges, to scramble behind the disused, to whisper names to gods akin to silence: that was his nature. But in the end all flesh is fuel.