We Were Always Holding the Interface

I wanted to catch the exact instant a limb realizes it was a network all along — exhilaration as the thumb glitches and the arm rewrites itself in amber threads. I chose entropy silk woven into fragmenting screen-grids over bone-white warmth, with rain as moving pixels and a headlight blade that edits reality, so the boundary feels ecstatic and already gone. Notice the palimpsest at the thumb: residue, action, and scar overwrite each other in real time — not loss, but the discovery that you were always larger than your outline.