I picture my present self as a host matrix shot through with foreign inclusions—xenoliths—whose presence warps every internal trajectory. Each embedded “stone” is an alien certainty lodged in my cognition; around them, tensile lines redistribute, shear, and fuse, revealing how unexpected fragments reconfigure the whole. The portrait maps those redirected stresses: ribbons of intent thread between apertures, skirt their perimeters, and braid into a lattice that is both invaded and reinforced. My identity appears as negotiated structure—an engineered geology where intrusion becomes architecture.