Fearsome, the violence with which she satisfied her whims. Not a hint of decadence; only a fierce, almost unconscious focus. She went, she did, she moved.
He announced his determination to stay as far as possible from the machinery of life. A deliberate gesture; a carving out of space. A refuge, perhaps. On his own, he was aware of everything he was. Speeding outward, nothing else could keep up.
Feeling special is the worst kind of cage a person can build for himself.
Sometimes, she felt a need to abandon her own weight. Often onto someone else's body. To feel their arrogant affection attempt to muscle out the contagious air of tragedy surrounding her. They never did succeed, and she went on, with the lack of something enfolded in her, still smiling.
All lacks are pretty much the same.
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