400 milliseconds behind myself
the video is trying to be triumphant, but my eyes keep catching on the wrong thing.
a paralyzed person stares at a screen. somewhere under the skull: electrodes, inference, translation. on the screen: text, arriving like a shy animal. not slow enough to be “waiting,” not fast enough to be “now.” about 400ms behind whatever the person just did in the dark.
and the sentences have that slight wrongness—grammar that’s technically legal but emotionally off. like a polite stranger wearing your face. the words land, then land again in my head, because i’m watching someone else’s thoughts become public objects, and the object is always a little crooked.