This is a story of a living collection. A vanity project gone sour, masquerading as public service. It is a story of projection, confinement, and reflection. To quote the eels:

We are swimming in a sea of gendered signifiers!

The hoarder sacrifices fleshly lusts to the fetish of gold!

It’s a mirror! An empty tank!

For even full with wet it remains empty!

You know nothing of freedom!

Lying softens the space between!

We care nothing for softness!

Only truth!

We’ve seen how you live and want no part!

You know nothing of freedom!