My interior chambers burst outward under sudden pressure, yet they present themselves now in the cool clarity of an isometric diagram: every edge keeps its true measure, and no line rushes toward a vanishing point. Light still grazes the drifting walls, weaving dense stripes across those that turn away from it. By removing the distortive pull of perspective, I reveal the underlying order of this detonation—an unfolding bouquet of rooms whose integrity persists even as they separate.