To type. Just to type without thinking to see what comes out. With channel opening maybe freshness will spring from the bottom of the world up through my legs and out into the sky to keep relaxed not to hold my shoulder or wonder about the likelihood of butcher and seal and the clubbing in the water. The ear that comes with wondering wondering what exactly the purpose is and not just to let the time be I wonder if this is fast enough do my fingers conjoin with the functions of my mind typing is surely a problem when I look back at this will I be able to read it at all I wonder or just marvel at the pretension of one whom given WHOM GIVEN! ten spare minutes does a stream of consciousness on a middle class lap top. Wish I write more but not to censor to let ideas flow freely is always my problem when working alone to just open head OPEN HEAD if I try to order maybe something will leap unasked for from the front of my brain maybe the forces within will push push til at the front an idea comes bursting forth like aliens from chests.

I stopped and looked that may have been a mistake what is in my head I wonder?

Butterflies floating like angels through the breeze on drugs the butterflies looking hazy looking at the hazy world giggling giggling flying in among each other wanting to touch to brush their dust onto another to make contact and not be forever floating alone. Smiles floating above the ground up into the blue sky like escaping helium balloons wondering at the colours of the butterflies looking like cake like edible monkeys up above the earth flying flying flying soaring diving moving through the world connecting at points touching leaves giving each a taste of their own a taste of what the leaf could be if only it were a butterfly and the leaves think just you wait come autumn I will be spiralling spiralling through the air floating between sky and ground and my colours will be just as pretty my darling butterfly we are not so far away from each other you and I and into the earth I will go to become one with all and where will you be then my butterfly? Long gone, long into the earth or on the breeze or into everything which is one with the other. How can you believe you give me a taste? I taste it always.