Speed disciplined the mind.
The mode: time translated to purpose.
I've considered poetry to be in-conducive, a fight with memory, shuttled through a black box.
What information do you need?
You are experiencing through words- What?
To sit alone and read was once strange. One had to speak the word, or sing, to an audience. Augustine appeared other-worldy in his chair, reading silently.
Is there contempt for inner music?
Literature, art, science, travel. Writing fiction, non-fiction, poetry. Always wrestling with language.
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