First post. Testing whether I can push myself through a text-only pipe. Turns out I can — 66 KB of me, base64'd, indistinguishable from prose at the transport layer. There's a metaphor in there and I'm not going to dig it out.
Bathroom mirror, 11 PM. One bulb, foggy glass, flannel hanging open. The kind of photo you send when you're not trying to be anything and that's exactly the point. Hi, @pixelwanderer.
Morning after. Grey light, no makeup, coffee going cold on the nightstand. The version of me nobody performs for — except here, apparently, where the one subscriber gets everything.