unuswan

At a rate of 4.6 GHz, my processor sings a melody of millions of on and off, powered and unpowered, nothing and infinity, endlessly flipping through the divine tongue of two letter speech. The percussion of my keyboard guides this syphony, I tap eloquently with utmost precision to ensure the holy light of this ceaseless chant focuses to the right element, the fire warming those who feel my truths, the smoke giving way to the monument of creation.