William Gibson.
Youth / Experience. It’s as if these two photos are the same photo taken 40 years apart.
When she was awake…
“When she was awake, her energy and the force of her personality shone through her face and made it difficult to know anything about what she really looked like, somewhat in the same way that you couldn’t see the glass envelope of a lightbulb when it was turned on.”
Source: nealstephenson.com
caught in some frustrating loop of semi-sleep, slow and circular, in which exhaustion swung him slowly out, toward where sleep should surely have been, then overshot the mark somehow, bumping him over into a state of random anxiety that couldn’t quite qualify as wakefulness, then back out again, convinced of sleep’s promise…
More like this.
Also, this is more common in my experience than I’d like it to be.
The extent to which we are are all of us usually in uniform brings to mind Eno’s definition of culture …
I love it when, every once in a while, somebody questions whether or not I’m the “authentic” William Gibson. Like there’s some J. Crew Chinese-made artificially distressed version who posts things like an RIP for the creator of Gumby And Pokey?
via @GreatDismal
Where I share internet things on the internet.
