On the internet, I didn’t have a body. It was like astral projecting into a secret treehouse with other non-embodied weirdos.
It is not enough to be pretty. It is not enough to be obedient, or deferential, or useful. Being not a problem is not enough for a person to live on.
In this strange territory of dorkiness, role-playing, and absurd props, there is something like real magic, and it makes me shiver.