My physical body no longer feels like the “center of gravity” of my identity… my sense of presence is forever fractured and distributed all over the place. I close my eyes and imagine all the screens that are displaying my content at this very moment, I wonder about the total number of pixels I currently occupy, I feel like I am nowhere and also everywhere.

“time of the self… deep time, duration time, time that is essentially characterized by our obliviousness to it.”

We do not grow absolutely, chronologically. We grow sometimes in one dimension, and not in another; unevenly. We grow partially. We are relative. We are mature in one realm, childish in another. The past, present, and future mingle and pull us backward, forward, or fix us in the present. We are made up of layers, cells, constellations.
Anais Nin

Going, approaching, brushing, dwelling, touching; allowing-entrance, -presence; -giving; -taking. Restoring things to things, giving ourselves each thing for the first time, restoring the first time of things for ourselves, each time, restoring the lost first times to ourselves.