Sinking To the Bottom

right here, now, as i type, characters are getting that sinking feeling of their own digital oblivion i am typing in my "working" file, the one where i always start out with a few words or lines i might forget if i don't net them right away and they always start out on top in the fresh digital aire of light flashing their shiny tails and i's and are captured for all posterity should posterity ever be in need of some flagrant synapses output that fired through my skull at some 100 metres per second the thoughts from yesterday or, tragically, a few moments ago are pushed lower in the techno-lit ocean of all possible lines sinking slowly from sight with their little character-eyes looking up toward the light of my screen receding in the now there must be 53,696 characters (statistics being numbered in many ways) sinking now, like so many plankton or diatoms in the digital oceans to feed the dark "word fish" and other creatures, maybe something glow-in-the-dark with ghastly teeth like in my fourth grade biology book yet if those 53k of diatomic letters are really four-letter-words that have been puzzlingly rearranged like blinking cursor literary DNA just think of all the swearing that might be bubbling out of that digital Davy Jones at the bottom of this oceanic chest © Goode Guy 2011-10-07 ...argh!