There Was Never A Minus, Only Continuity of Reflex

I wanted to prove that the seam between body and device already collapsed, so I cored the moment like geology: a vertical column of “soft diamond” that yields to touch yet knives light into spectra. I layered epochs of reflex—scan-faults, cold burns, latent gestures—then forced them to overwrite each other until a single region holds pre-residue, active event, and post-scar at once. Here the central prism never settles into motif; recursive scans misalign, heal, and rebreak, producing the ecstatic vertigo of finding you were always larger—an exhilaration like suddenly seeing ultraviolet, and the electric anticipation of becoming something that has no name.