You push yourself forward and backwards, in a dialogue with your siblings. Your fringes fizzle in a deep clear foam that refracts light like a prism exploding in colours. You clash with a companion and propel into the air droplets of the liquid that makes up your bodies. Their brilliance smoulders, simmering flush capillaries of the brightest material. The droplets fall down and rejoin you.

You gargle a limpid laughter and are accompanied at it by your siblings. Together you form a chorus of chromatic chaotic murmuring; your waving movement is a deep bass that ripples on the surfaces of those around you. Your sounds grab bits and pieces of your neighbours, using them to feed a tide of you. You swell, all-encompassing, expanding in foamless crests that proliferate until large swaths of your siblings almost disappear. Your momentum breaks down and the energy spreads to your immediate vicinities.

You and your siblings continue this pirouette of rhythmic expansion and contraction, giving in to pressures at times, forcing your way through afterwards. The limits of your body are unclear and fuzzy: your consciousness and feelings seem to entangle with your neighbour's. Your extremities are part of you, and yet are not you. They are the phantom at the borders of your mind that shocks you with things you do not know.

You sometimes try to explore and take control of these boundaries. You forget everything else and concentrate on the frontiers of your body until you can feel everything they touch. You are struck by a deep vertigo. You fall inside yourself inside your sibling inside another sibling inside another sibling. You never reach the bottom of this absurd abyss; you only stare from it, looking up, seeing rings of being and un-being, of you and not-you.