Fingers fat and sluggish with this pent up motion, yet somehow words spill with a deft neatness from the pen's tip.
The gleaming strand which connects mind to paper, once taken for granted, now decrees an almost holy reverence when it arrives; indecipherable with sheer possibility.
Mind moving at the speed of light as ideas are conceived, pondered and sorted in miliseconds. Words flow as blood through arteries, and the world slows as they leak from the wound.
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