I hold out my hand and blood pumps through my wrist. I am the host of worlds of bacteria, viruses lay dormant in my cells, in my nervous system, or never leave or rest. My stomach, my second brain, is hardly me, or at least the me that makes sense to me. Its unconscious, subconscious, involuntary and most definitely not just “me”.

Man O’Wars are a type of Siphonophorae that, despite looking and often behaving as an individual, are actually composed of many specialized organisms. They are an “individual” made up of a colony. How easy it is to romanticize them. Imagine the closeness of this kind of existence. A collective moment,a collective existence, a collective death. Imagine when proximity is pushed beyond what our human existence allows. They also happen to be carnivorous, which feels important. But what of our inability to communicate with the other bits of ourselves, our silent cohabitants, or internal Other? Accepting the inevitable reality of cohabitation, must we also accept the silent communication which often feels more like miscommunication? Does the siphonophore communicate with the other bits of itself? Do the individual units comfort each other?  Or are they also stuck in this absurd if still functional deadlock? I push questions inside and swallow them . Hello? Are you there? Are you understanding what I write?