So far as I can tell, by the reckoning of my devices and pneumatometer, the beginnings of the world is not the atom of Leucippius. To say that the beginning and bottom of all things (the hen kai panton of the wretched but genuis Spinoza) is without division does not appear on my scope.
The penumatometer allows me to delve deeper. It would be worth noting that Mr. Locke should have had my scope since I can still see color this far down (it should be a primary quality). At this point, I can go further as the lines of all things keep going.
Nothing is indivisible. There are no atoms. Only steam, continuous and flowing, depth of color and shape beyond shape.
Who can plumb these depths? What end can be found if that which is smallest is hardly small at all? It seemed that as I searched downward, I was actually traveling up. This steam seems to be give height in its depth. Strength in its fragility.
And this steam seems to stir in ash, dust, and even sound in it.
I do not think Thales or Leucippius had it right. There is no uncuttable, no pivot on which to stand. We are this steam -- we are from it and in it and through it. Epimenedes. Paulus in Acropolis.