The words are flowing through her fingers… It’s like a straight connection between her brain and her fingers. She writes as if her sanity depends on it. It’s like a balloon which needs to be deflated or it can burst!
Of course she doesn’t think if the text is making sense. What makes sense in this world, anyway? Things seem to be merely random. A completely chaos.
The only thing she’s sure about is that everything changes. The change is her only certainty. It’s her north, it’s her faith. In changes she can trust. It never lets her down. Never.