The Book

I sit here looking at the screen as my words start to flow from my fingers into intelligible thought. A thought for you to consider; thought for thought. I tell you of the pros and cons, adventures and desires of the characters that until here recently you knew nothing about. I create thought with my fingers, they weave through your lobes with the snaps of synapses and move you from this world to the next without missing a beat, dodging missed romances and dropping bombs. You may spy on histories immortals and gods as they walk among us unnoticed with the flip of a page. Here you will see what I see; you will be who I wish for you to be I control you. I am you and you are I. My fiction shall be your fact without your knowledge I will conceive a plan and hatch it in front of you. I am all you will think about, festering in your subconscious. My seed planted for only us to see, it is an intimate occasion for us. Curled with me in your hand your fingers roll through me as you live my highest highs and rock bottom lows. I make humanity’s triumphs and atrocities clearly apparent and disappear with the blink of an eye. However, you will use me, to escape your own atrocities and send me away just as quick once the end has emerged. So as I sit looking at my screen I realize that my fingers have circumvented the process and now I sit alone with only this thought and it flows from my head into space never to be seized again.