Leave negative space unchallenged and it overwhelms you. Try to fill it in and it fits into all the cracks; it is one part, then four, then it overwhelms you again. It is impossible and necessary. Proof of invention.

Draw a cross-section of the heart, ink in all the gaps. Imagine lines to stay within: one heart, four chambers, an infinite cascade of hemoglobin. Crimson covers the paper, and it is over. Did you expect it to last forever?

Nature recycles squids into ink, ink into drawings, drawings into memories, memories into people. In this moment between squids we spray ink at each other, confusingly, confusedly. Listen, watch: a stream of fused lyrics, lettering, crude figures, cave paintings holding down the squid across generations. A giant eye for the ocean of time.

Defend yourself from the darkness between recyclings. You have giant eyes and one hundred billion minds. Go.