Everything's of those things however something different also, something I can never fully characterize. He's praising something he stows away from me, and I'm commending something I can't disclose to him. Best I can tell, we're commending proportional cool. We feed off one another, making more than the number of our parts. Despite the fact that we don't have to hang out – inevitably, we can't tolerate being together – we actually talk about one another, mirror one another, and appreciate our own appearance in one another. I'm the dilettantish punky one, he's the really young-looking maverick. Because of me, he has an atmosphere of out-of-control bohemian. Because of him, I have a whiff of enticing risk. Every one of us the other's humming and glinting neon corona: it's our unsaid understa
