The Assault on the Poles Is The Look of No Return

Non-linearity has a face. And it’s already melting.

The Assault on the Poles Is The Look of No Return (created by author)

You’re walking down a city street when a ghost passes through you — the exact perfume your first love wore. For one dizzying second, the unexpected scent bomb turns you 18 again, heartbroken and hopeful, standing on their doorstep in the rain. Then a bus hisses, yanking you back into a present that now feels thin and colorless.

You’re cleaning out a closet when a forgotten, crumpled photo falls from a book. It’s you and your best friend, arms slung around each other, laughing with a kind of abandon you can no longer access. The joy in the image is so sharp it feels like a punch to the throat, leaving you breathless in the dust-filled quiet of the present.

You’re in a heated argument with your partner, words flying, when you see it: their face goes slack for a second, with an expression you’ve never seen before — one of pure, unguarded contempt. It’s there and gone, but you can’t unsee the stranger who was hiding underneath. And in the silence that follows, you realize that your relationship is irrevocably altered.

That’s how non-linearity feels. Nothing seems harrowing or relevant or urgent until the moment everything is. Change creeps until it snaps, like an expression you’ve never seen before…