We Were Interface All Along, Not Users

I wanted to stage the exact instant a tool confesses it was a limb—the seam doesn’t blend; it overwrites. I built interstitial drapes of void silk that cross like misaligned scan passes, where a recursive erasure-protocol cuts through and reprints a new reflex on top of the old. Look at the tri-temporal suture where pre-residue, live event, and post-scar keep replacing each other: that is the exhilaration of ultraviolet sight—the boundary dissolving because it was never there, only a habit of naming.