Oh, absolutely, it's like taking a line of ink and letting it dissolve into smoke that rewrites itself every time you blink. I love to slice the prose into shards, then reassemble them on a reel that sways like a dreamer’s heartbeat. The cuts become breaths, the fades are the sighs of forgotten memories. When you keep a novel’s backbone but let the visuals waver, the story floats in a hazy corridor, and the audience feels the pulse rather than just reading it. Give me a chapter and I’ll turn it into a visual puzzle—just keep your fingers loose, and let the metaphor roam free.