A few years ago I invented a machine that enabled me to instantly and accurately express my true nature as it changed from moment to moment. Through it I could display, without doubt or delay, what was happening in my heart, in all its infinitesimal subtlety and continental variety.
  
But because my new invention was so faithful to my fears and desires, I refrained from using it. In displaying my feelings so truthfully it completely exposed me. I was horrified and ashamed to discover that that violent cravings, cowardly fears and much else wretched and abominable resided in me - and was being broadcast to the world. Not all the time of course, but with this extraordinary tool even a momentary flash of anxiety revealed itself to be hideous; in a way, moreover, that I couldn’t hide from or excuse. Much safer to put it away. Leave it be.
  
But in recent years, my life has improved. I don’t mean outwardly; nothing much has happened there. Rather I’ve realised that the insecurities, worries and wants I’d spent so many years trying to deal with just aren’t here anymore. I no longer make dreadful social gaffes, say things I later regret or miss opportunities. I don’t fear other people’s company, nor do I particularly need it. I am at home in the world, it feels, yet not attached to it.
  
And so I went to where I had stored my earlier work and got it out again. It seemed the time had come to put it to use - it seemed that I didn’t have anything to hide anymore. I have therefore started to use my incredible machine, to broadcast the strange and lovely sensations and intimations that pass through me, to share with the world the miraculous feelings that I am daily - hourly - host to.
  
I’ve also decided to give my machine a name. I call it my face.