From the archive

What if nobody ever finds out how fucking amazing you are?

You go somewhere that looks good in photographs. Order something that looks good in photographs. Then spend half an hour finding an angle where you look good against the backdrop of your good-looking day. That evening, someone asks how it went. You show them. Can you tell them anything, though? What do you remember besides the light? What did you feel before you started deciding how it would look from the outside? Sometimes it turns out you were busy maintaining a memory you barely had time to make.