We exist as imperfect diagrams, porous and gushing in continual co-production of each other. We constantly and effortlessly un/do our bodies—metabolizing and metabolized contiguously, drawing the interminably viscous social body from our own effluvia.

“Human beings are magical. Bios and Logos. Words made flesh, muscle and bone animated by hope and desire, belief materialized in deeds, deeds which crystallize our actualities…And the maps of spring always have to be redrawn again, in undared forms.” (Sylvia Wynter, “The Pope Must Have Been Drunk, the King of Castile a Madman”)