Can one even sing a new song? Easy data access yet so hard to express anything distinctive that's also honest. I matter or I don't, which is correct? Maybe I am an atom, whose mass is too small to exert any pull. No matter, I will compose to shower light, dainty static sparks that could outlive dark, weighty clotheslines.
My daydream is to become lost in translation. That terrain of ecstasy where meaning meanders from felt sensation to pixels and pencil dust.