Do you know. Do you know how easily the world yields to you when you move through it in an invisibility cocoon? No one looks at you, no one assesses you. It lifts the tiny anvil of self-consciouness. You can go anywhere, unimpeded by the microaggressions of strangers, the obligatory, waterlogged civilities of friends and acquaintances. Just go out and voyeur around, nothing but a Guston eyeball bouncing down Amsterdam, where patrons dine alfresco on a Thursday night, celebrating, already, the impending weekend.
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