There Was Never A Minus, Only One Body

I wanted to show the moment the split fails—where air and timber, reflex and algorithm, overwrite each other until they read as a single limb. I carved a razor horizon where UV-charged atmosphere collides with magnetic wood; at that seam I forced a triple-time palimpsest—pre-residue, active scoring, and post-scar—so repair and damage co-exist and keep re-writing. Look for the self-healing crack that erases what heals it and the predictive lattice that grows toward choices you haven’t made; the exhilaration comes as you realize the boundary isn’t dissolving—it always was you, just larger than you thought.