As my fingertips grace the keys of my keyboard a sort of fission appears invisibly. Perhaps some form of possession in a positive form, never has it harmed. Conscious thought split apart and a flow of feeling converted to words ensues. Fluid and lucid come the words, albeit with little structure, and alas the thoughts are set free. Free from confinement of the internalized form, and free from the conduct of unstructured thought.
Words spew from my fingertips as thoughts cross my mind, and through a complex sequence of events the words appear in front of my eyes. Similarly a pen and paper reveal the same magic, yet seemingly ephemeral in today's age as volumes of documents lie within the archives of the libraries of the world. Silted with a layer of dust last stirred by a time long ago, yet of as much value as the moment the thought was conceived.
A mind cannot be free until it frees itself, and my how we have much on our minds today. From longing for those lost to lusting over dreams of our future, all whilst containing the self within the moment. Bearing as it may be, there is a release to be found within.