while i travel through times or spaces new to me, creation happens spontaneously. things slither out of me right through my fingertips. i see colour, light, details. patterns emerge. i connect with gestures, with smiles. i hear voices telling me stories. i remember fragments of books, ideas i've heard. i'm alert. i transcribe.
while i stay stationary, things close inside. my heart contracts. every word is a possible enemy. gray. things are diffuse, ideas sleep.
while i stay stationary, i dream of moving.
while i stay stationary, i do not bond.
movement is everything,
but what will i do with this new self inflicted freedom?
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