it’s very easy to be a narcissist in this place. everything we surround ourselves with should be an extension of ourselves, but herein lies the interesting part. “ourself” is never tangible. there is no specific visceral mass within our bodies that can be named “ourself.”

“ourself” resides in the spaces between tissue, and even within them, it is not so much its presence or absence, but the formation itself, and not the building, no stone or lattice, but the way and manner it was presented before “ourself.”