Oh, wow, I hadn’t even noticed I’d grown darkly handsome. If I have grown darkly handsome, that is – I really haven’t noticed.
If you went backward through the car wash, would you come out pale and homely?
It is possible for me to imagine this resonating with me if I were darkly handsome, I could indulge that thought. If I were ever to think of myself as darkly enigmatically handsome in the eyes of others - which is possible to imagine, though I’m not sure why I would - I’m just getting on with being myself and existing in the world. Well, doing more than anything else - isn’t that what existing is? One does things. Not imposing, though, that’s far too brutish. Perish the thought. Just doing what so clearly needs to be done, in the way that it needs to be.