Pajolo Cam

I am scattered and I am dispersing. I have always been my five year old self; engulfed in (!), fixated on (!), and deeply treasuring (!) the new curiosities to be gained from our bedroom television. And she had always been me; a gender abomination and a scientist studying its unexpected amalgamations: the bane of binary—oh, she thrives in contradiction! I know all of time exists already, for the way I am, will exist inside of my older self (as the way I was, lives within me). She finds neglected pockets in my memory to store her satisfied collections of information, and I repurpose her research to rebuild her residence.