Cutting it down between repetitions is amputation. You’re going to lose functionality. It depends where and how we make the incision, but we’re either going to bleed out the gaps and thin the pacing, or sever the cadence and infect the tonal complexities, scabbing over emotional resonances. You will be asking me to change the size of a formed organ, grown under gravity and cell structure to perform for your internal mechanics. You can ask me to carve out more space in your ribcage. You can ask me to clot your loose ends and sew together the joints. But it will be messy, bloody work against the seamless logic of nature. My hands will quiver, while yours lay limp with lost feeling. Maybe you’ll fit someone else’s vision of the world, but you’ll shatter your offering with your redundant shape, like a full length mirror folded into a suitcase.
Quit Vision 