Bethany Startin Minus World

The traveller learns to expect identical moments. The predictable motion of fireballs, the foliage repeating in the sky, and eight castles balance out the seams. But you are stuck on forward motion; walking backwards has always been an impossible feat. Look how air becomes obstacle, or how you attune yourself to flagpoles. The way into a subtracted landscape carries with it the intention to alter what is possible. I know the desire to tilt reality.

We urge linearity. We cannot in good conscience recommend further exploration.

Entry into negative space stands for a dismount. The same coral reefs recurring and the only way past the mirror is to break into it. All other exits lead to breathing in water, an accumulation of tiny deaths, a seasoned traveller preparing for sacrifice. You are so small and underwater: this means, you are ineffectual. You asked for a killing place. To walk through the wrong pipes is to say, yes, take all of me, collapse my last lungful.

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