Terra Firma

Last night, I began to write, I ended this morning, I usually start flying around the idea, making banks and turns, until my final approach, which leads me to land on this empty space that slowly gets filled up with lines bent, straight and curved, composing an organized parade of thoughts that, for start, do not really make any sense, it continues in a confused garden of omni directional sentences that wiggle and jiggle with the warm summer wind of an absent brain that has left the building for a holiday, escaped in a hurry, bouncing around, jumping and sliding, echoing while smashing on spiked walls that deflate its enthusiastic momentum. This journey takes me back to the ground right after I hit send, the bytes roll around the net, released to the world, free to reside into a fresh receptor.