I like to think of my existence on the internet as something profoundly spiritual—glitchy divergences of selves that I have long outgrown and forgotten the passwords to. I wonder sometimes what Jung would’ve made of the the internet, what quips he’d offer forth about its pervasive insistence on ego, how the very existence of my avatar stands as intangible proof that externalizing our curated half-selves creates the kind of quantifiable discordance that can be mapped by the ridged edge of pixel. To build an untouchable, absurdly optimized mutability that isn’t altogether good or grand, that functions in place of aura / soul as digital tastebud is a profound use of our forbidden fruit knowledge.