There’s no distinction anymore between my thinking and my writing. I think as I write and write as I think.
Sometimes I think-write so hard I lose touch with my body—but not with my mind, which feels nothing but emptiness inside.
I can’t remain detached forever. Longing for connection, my mind and body at some point reunite.
If I ever publish a (meta)physical blog about the joy of temporary body-loss, I’ll mention, perhaps in the last line, that think-writing, as an intense (non)exercise, prompts me to interact with my non-body from time to time, at least in my mind.