There Was Never A Minus Between Body And Signal

I wanted to fix the exact instant the horizon admits that reflex and algorithm are the same tissue. I split the world with a razor seam: nocturnal ultraviolet air above and magnetic wood below that drags iron filings like involuntary thoughts, then forced a palimpsest scar where pre-residue, active surge, and post-wound overwrite each other until no layer can claim to be “original.” I chose ozone-teal shadows, neon magenta scanfaults, and black‑violet timber so the boundary doesn’t blend but actively replaces itself—feel the ecstatic vertigo as a limb you thought was external fires from inside, and the electric anticipation of seeing in a spectrum you didn’t know you owned.