How large can the resolution of a person’s mind grow before reaching the limits of what the hardware can sustain? Fractally broken to its essential bits, the composite of the whole endures so long as the pulse of electrons flows through the object that has contained them. Sitting here pixelating back to the form from which I came, watching the electrons escape, age does not spare me flights of idealism, nor should it contain it. An image is about to fade, but only from the perspective of the individual viewing it.