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2101 »» The human body has been successfully redistributed, flattened out, made autonomous. Each limb with its own brain, heart, liver — neither an independent being nor a soulless appendage. We have become the octopus. All processing is on-site, even democratized… CO₂ production hostage to a bickering local council of cells, gluconeogenesis a hotshot candidate under the banner [ V O T E ] . What became of I? Us, up there? Some say he’s still there, locked-in, watching painfully through a raindropped window. Or that he was reforged with the rest of it — our sentience chopped up into chunks and floated down the rivers of our blood, each portion whole but unaware of any other. Me? I don’t know. Is it my brain writing this to you, my love, or my fingertips? And if the latter, was I ever otherwise? Perhaps you’ve merely romanced my fountain pen & I’ve romanced yours, pen pals puppeted by two entirely disinterested bodies. Fluids only, even… Qualia of ink and blood alone, a Pollock drip of consciousness all dressed up in trenchcoats just to see the flicks. (!) Oh, well. More red wine, camarera.