When a boy…discovers that he is more given into introspection and consciousness of self than other boys his age, he easily falls into the error of believing it is because he is more mature than they. This was certainly a mistake in my case. Rather, it was because the other boys had no such need of understanding themselves as I had: they could be their natural selves, whereas I was to play a part, a fact that would require considerable understanding and study. So it was not my maturity but my sense of uneasiness, my uncertainty that was forcing me to gain control over my consciousness. Because such consciousness was simply a steppingstone to aberration and my present thinking was nothing but uncertain and haphazard guesswork.
yukio mishima, confessions of a mask
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the anatomical venus: wax, god, death + the ecstatic - joanna ebenstein (2016)
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A velveteen French Bulldog compact for face powder (Germany, 1926)
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One of the many love letters recieved by ted
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