The writing is completely spontaneous, I bought the typewriter to just frantically and unconsciously key in these random, fierce, unknown thoughts that arrive at the beating of the mechanical parts and the rolling of the drum and the bell reminding you of something, not quite what (sic).
You can pretty much see the line you are typing and nothing more, and the sensation of blankness, whiteness and coherence is all but gone. It's entirely manual and wrong and lucid, and you got to give your little fingers freedom devoid from inhibition. Slowly you notice the blunders and don't care about them, and you decide to sketch in this your primer of ideas, there's no way how wrong it will get.
So I played with the patchiness of it all and went for a different language, kind of a broken English on a sweaty paper.
