JaxPsychoGeo overlays the map.

JaxPsychoGeo invites all wanderers—Londoners, Seattleites, Israelis and Israelites, Muscovites and Alabamans. The Mayor of Jacksonville, Florida should have JaxPsychoGeo memorized, or be impeached.

You should go, you should go to JaxPsychoGeo. Lose yourself there, and find yourself.

It’s the capitol, the HQ, the first city and the last.

Because JaxPsychoGeo is a place on earth.

And JaxPsychoGeo is a piece of writing, an ancient scripture, a hypermap, a lovesong-and-hatesong, a literary text.

JaxPsychoGeo is a literary text.

Marcel Proust’s novel In Search of Lost Time, À la Recherche du Temps Perdu, is seven volumes long, and 1,267,069 words.

Joe Gould’s An Oral History of Our Time, supposedly, stood seven or eight feet high.

JaxPsychoGeo is 885 mi².

JaxPsychoGeo is 885 square miles laid over the city of Jacksonville. Steer your pontoon boat through JaxPsychoGeo. Fall in love in JaxPsychoGeo. Be murdered in JaxPsychoGeo. Find your life purpose in pursuing social justice in JaxPsychoGeo. Trade your sex for a fix in JaxPsychoGeo. Find God in JaxPsychoGeo.

But whatever you do, JaxPsychoGeo.