i felt like i was reading the audio-visual equivalent of striated layers of toxic rainbow paint, layer upon layer of distortion that felt exponentially more difficult to look at as it went on, but that felt really apt because the events transpiring inside it ARE hard to look at directly and should feel that way, for the reader and for the character(s), who are trying to observe or remove themselves from observation depending on the scene.
really long run-on there but this has really inspired me to try getting better at what i think is a strength displayed here: loose-but-coherent, a resilience toward the idea of trying to explain circumstances that can't be explained, only depicted in relative truth.
(also felt viscerally mirrored multiple times in the smallest but most vivid ways, like talking about cold drinks and their relief, sharing a moment with a key and a door, what constitutes a sign of damage--i could really go on.)
thank you for writing this.