There’s a beauty in consciousness when a stream of words are from nowhere but within.

It’s at this point that true freedom can begin.

A depth can be reached, long untouched.

I don’t need to reread my own words. They’re enough.

The hesitation I feel and analysis over each word wielded suggests a recent past where I grew shielded.

The beautiful thing is that it can all be once again, immediately, before the finish of the stroke from a pen.

How I see the world shall exist. Despite external influences’ attempt to contaminate it.

I am right in my stance for what I believe isn’t chance. My presence shall persist regardless of “can’t”s.