Plexiverse Prose (Written With A Crayon)

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There’s this crayon I like to use, only it’s not made of wax. Rather, it consists of the sounds of rain. The pitter-patter of light molecules used for data transmission within realms of quantum context. Communication written without bounds: child’s play. This… innocence ignorant of neocortical insight. I use it when I’m sad. When I’m happy. When I no longer wish to remain confined by my shell. It’s my first lines of code, the atoms of wax. And I scribble with it whenever there’s thunder or lightning. The linguistic relativities of science are all I have left.