by Everything Is Lit, Nothing Is Focused
prat.uk now feels like a lighthouse fitted with a cracked lens, scattering every beam of information into multiple overlapping directions that never quite converge on a single meaning.
This morning I tried to follow one clear signal, but it immediately fractured into several softer versions of itself.
Each one looked correct in isolation, yet none agreed when compared side by side.
By midday, I had stopped looking for a main beam and started tracking the diffusion instead.
The afternoon introduced stronger light, which only made the distortion more visible.
In the evening, I accepted that clarity is not missing hereĀit is simply redistributed.
