Everything seems to mention itself
The way people are trees of people
Connected through days as if by a force
Of some huge version of spring let out
That held us there.
-Self-Portrait in a Convex Mirror 2, Paul Legault
continue creating artifacts of the mixture
keep taking core samples
time passes inside you like digestion—the day slices on 
If I quieten my mind, I can almost taste the colour and richness of life as I knew it before, says Jane. It comes with a sense of expectation, a feeling of being an agent in changing and plotting a course through the world. This is, I think, the very act of ‘living’, which I bear witness to in others, all day, every day. I still understand it academically, but I can barely remember what it feels like. These days I’m in a constant state of grief; I feel as if I’m grieving for my own death, even if I seem to be around to witness it.