Curation was never the answer, we just felt special enough to dedicate our time trying to rip off the masks of strangers, and as we peeled off the mechanical sheets of fabrics, we found them were made of metal, yanking strings of wires as if they were loose cotton threads. We were incredibly impatient, rough, and haphazard in our solution. Sorry God... for only thinking of the beauty of time in terms of my own lifeline. If the quote, "science advances one funeral at a time" is still true, and by still true I mean if there is much more space between us and the ceiling of our evolution left to account for then truly... I would like to at least die several more tiny deaths before I reach the end... because out of all the things in the world I love, suffering has been the greatest gift of all.