Fly

My mind is going to explode. How do i get this all down on paper? How can i write feelings, record, emotions. My fingers try to fly, and in so doing stumble over themselves, pinky over thumb, half the speed of normal in all their angst. The angst of my mind. Life is beautiful, oh so beautiful! I want to scream it from mountains, from valleys and rivers and oceans and medinas and kasbahs and life! Life from life from, oh, my life! God? Who God, he God, she God, transcience, but its all so clear! I am flying flying flying flyingd lfinyinh flginye, fsdlkgjtsoifgjoir

Dig it! Dig this life, kid, dig! I can think. Can I think? How can i think? How can my mind process this. What is this? Who knows, who cares? How do i exist? Check it out, check out life. Dig dig dig man dig. Dig woman dig. Where did I come from? How were humans created? When did we begin to be able to speak? When write? How does this key board work? Look! When I hit a ´b´, a b shows up. Always. What is that process. Dig dig dig. A fever has got me and I cannot shake it. Where ever I am, whenever I am, I can still dig. When I run out of my energy, you ask? Well, I lie in bed, and dig the bedsprings. What metal are they made of? How are they shaped to maximum effiency? What is it like to sleep on a bed of straw? Why and when and where and what and and and

If I were dropped in the middle of empty space and time, say a jungle at the beginning of human existence, what would I know about how to make the world like it is now? Nothing! Metals and alloys, copper ages, technology? Automobiles? Teach me, learn, me, ask! Curiousity killed the cat, but no no no curiousity can´t kill me!