As we type and edit our attention jumps from paragraph to paragraph and from program to program, leaving a trail of disconnected phrases and commands. Much of what we type is deleted before the final product is saved, but the data have not dissapeared. Sic is the record kept by a keylogger installed on my computer. Since the keylogger records every key pressed, the data contain information best kept private, but the range of information is so great and cluttered with such noise it remains impenetrable. Sic is ongoing and chronological—it is a strict, linear record of non-linear processes. From a step back, the many colored key-commands and black phrases of text illustrate an abstract and personal topography of thoughts and actions. The illusion of Sic is that everything is displayed, but the reality is that without the final products of the labor to compare, the record will always be incomplete, and will remain pieces whose sum is less than the sum of the whole.