I need to tear my away away from the screen as I’ve been glued to watching numbers cycle.

I seem to have slowed in my typing, but only by a smidget.

We’ll see how that all pans out over the next few days.

It is a day of work. We had the air con being as loud as it could for a few hours. That was fun.

It lead to some sort of swathe of symphony that I could not comprehend, for the sound was as audacious as it was beautiful.

My head was carried along and smooshed into something and the sound was bouncing around me leading to some sort of leading to something else and the eyes could only peel back as far as possibility would allow, but you know it’s all oil when we get down to it and the static head reaches out to beat the brow back from thee sweat as I’m talking in circles about what is going on, but it is all stretching out and compacting and I’m left here wondering where the symphony will lead but I can’t even see or feel myself anymore and I’m disrupted at the subatomic level and all blurs around me, so now I’m flying off on some sort of journey as all is a blur and it all stretches out looking for some sort of reasoning, but the low droning hum keeps up its attack and attaches itself to my being and suddenly I’m no longer feeling or hearing the sound, but instead I have become the sound and I can’t even tell which way is forward anymore but my cheeks know how to do the tango and down I go onto the ground and it’s all tingling static that my face can embrace in some sort of darkened zone so long as I close off to all that is around me whilst the ground melts away and I am just there. experiencing whatever the droning experience that produces such abrasive, yet such beautiful sounds that I cannot even begin to fathom.

My ears have decided tor arrange themselves and I can only go toward some sort of thing as it all blasts around and through everything and it’s all becoming a haze of sound and notes and it all rearranges and reshapes so fast that all I can do is wait it out and appreciate the experience that is grappling with my very being and shaking me to my soul for the fear of sound is as much as the lack of fear of sound and balance must find a way, lest I be struck off and onto something else.

Then it all ends and I am back in my seat at my desk for the sound could only go on for so long before it would cease and the air conditioning resumes being its usual, non-obtrusive self and I am ready to do my job and discovering something in the memory of the sound.

The time it took to write five-hundred words: 06:33:54

Very much based in reality.
For the first few hours this morning the air con was running far louder than it normally would.

Written at work.