Here is always nowhere in particular, except that someone pointed and said here. Here is just the coincidental meeting of a finger and an utterance. Here is a sequence of events, of accidents, of circumstances. Here is only there waiting for the sun. Here is only a there waiting for someone.

We collaborate across temporal spans by inhabiting positions we imagine others to have once claimed. Our bodies become spaces for the habits of others. This is how we work. This is how we love. This is how the machine goes and how it breaks. This is how we break. — Christopher Marcom Being Dead, Alan Turing Contemplates Emptiness As He Encounters A Series Of Boys Thus Arriving At The Possibility Of Computation