The interface: my body, my senses, the world flow in and I flow out. I’ve waged war and wreaked havoc, scorned and tortured and hated this skin, these bones, this mass that curves the fabric of the universe, for the crime of what it is not. How silly (how utterly sad) of me. Once with this body I catered death. Now with this body I run toward life. With this body I will love.