3. It doesn’t look like meaning - it looks like the absence of it. It doesn’t look like shimmering, vivid colour - it looks like a black hole sucking everything around it into a dense singularity. It doesn’t look like the glistening cross-section of an orange sliced perfectly in two - it looks like two halves that cannot be divided, and the mess that spills out when you try. GO CAREFULLY. IF YOU LOOK TOO LONG, YOU WILL BECOME A PART OF IT. It doesn’t look like the slow curl of a suppressed smile - it looks like a pile of teeth. It doesn’t look like the wobbling white-hot centre of the sun - it looks like the fractal gaps between the unfurling arms of a snowflake It doesn’t look like the impressions of seams on skin at the end of the day - it looks like hard granite carved into a grim pastiche on a pedestal. It doesn’t look like a sea of faces, the rippling applause, or the standing ovation - it looks like dusty red threadbare curtains, frayed and faded. It doesn’t look like glass, amorphous and trembling in the presence of sound - it looks like the static silence at the end of the universe.