outwait outrun outwit


an archive of pleasures, wounds, sublimations
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Friends posted photos of the pink moon and wrote texts in praise of its beauty, as they do every full moon. Nights are often moonless in this ever inclement and overcast part of the world. Still, a moonless night is strange. Something is missing, something similar to a steadfast friend or a treasured memento you've taken for granted. For the moon is always present in our darkest hours, even when shadowed by the sun. The moon is generous to everyone who looks at it; it does not care for your crimes, poverty, or lack of ambition. Everyone looks at the same moon, and the moon looks the same to everyone, luminous and transcendent in almost all its phases, like all your dreams and memories of it, so that every photo of the moon aspires to capture its elusive genius.


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