Electromagnetic forces are the interactions of atoms, and underlie all other chemical or biological functions or structures. When a fist meets a face, ultimately, the base activity is of electrons repelling (in repugnant fashion) one another; fist versus face, with face mostly losing because of the ‘softness’ i.e., susceptibility, of the face to a fist, or worse, an adornment of brass knuckles. Less intense, but no less dramatic, is the sense of touch when encountering a lover’s feather for the first time. As such, electromagnetic interactions could be boiled down to the binary in interaction, creating multiple layers of complex compilation. The endless ringing in my ears is the hyper-aware tingling of something dreadful lurking off in the distance. But I have no concept of scope, only a concept of concept, so the threat may be aeons awayin the past or even in the future. Perhaps a simple laying of a feather inside my ear would soothe my aching cochlea, and relax the vibrant cilia of my nuisance. However, I think it is not the “physical” mechanics of the dioarama that instigates the problem, it is instead a barometric pressing of meat or bone against nerve, so the incessant harangue of grating metal will never find alleviation. Unless I find just the right and perfect position to ease the eletromagnetic pressure of positive against negative. And even if found, my supposition is that I would be unable to /hear/ the freedom, but instead, conjure mythical memories of the sirens, who, half-attached to their rock, body partially expelled from the barnacled plot, they would sing to me of my own disease, beckon me forth into it, a remnant of the vigor of life they crave to sap. And, tree-like, snappable limbs of wicker, I call them my sun, and bend further backwards until all of my history is in the past. And all of my futures, too. And all the vultures who swivel over maidenhead, lusting after wreckage, without the will or way to cause. Once a day, far away, a Fairer day.