That’s the problem, see, whenever I try to write something about it, my mind suddenly empties. Flashbacks of words and dashes and points – a certain rhythm inside me but still like a rock on the outside. Is language a problem? Does it stop the going with the flow? or is it too much going with the flow already? so much that it’s all transformed into cosmic energy and it doesn’t belong to me any more. I don’t belong to myself any more.