I’ve been tinkering with words a lot lately, spinning illusions out of nonsensical ideas.

I’ve been shaping concepts around patterns that make no sense, editing bits of style and grammar into the delicate whisps of their naked elements.

I’ve been venting my creative brain core with amusing pleasures of word and wit and whimsy, purging ideas into unfiltered data.

I’ve been listening to howling lyrics of random musics, bubbling codecs filtering ghosts from their shells as the soundtracks to my typing.

I’ve been conceptualizing experimental fictions with my keyboard, tapping out crystaline gems of fanciful mayhem.

I’ve been writing, without care or abandon or purpose, writing.