The Automatic Game

What would you end up writing when you don't plan to say anything? That's exactly what I want to find out. I have no plan, no idea why I'm writing this, or where it will go. I am as clueless as you reading this, as to what comes next. Serious. 

Ok, maybe there is a little editing that has gone into it, but it is only so far as to make the narrative more coherent and slightly more bearable to read. No words have been added during the edit, as have no extra thoughts found its way into this passage. It is strictly what they automatic writing. 

Or stream of consciousness.

I have always been fascinated with words and thoughts like these. I mean there must be something holy about spontaneity. Don't you think? Something which comes straight from the heart or whatever region in the body, without adulteration. Without the baggage of social conditioning, without the weight of civil and social mores, without any sort of political correctness. There was be something in such words, no matter how lame or stupid they may sound, that has the potential to save humanity. 

I am actually surprised. I am surprised to find that even though I hammer away at the keyboards, I am still able to make sense. I am surprised at the pace at which the brain can gather thoughts, rummage throught it and come up with something that is intelligeble. This is fun, too. It's fun because it's a game. A game where I'm trying to guess what my own brain is thinking. 

I have to stop here, because I have rewritten this line a few times and that means I'm forcing it and it's no longer spontaneous. I guess the brain caught up with me. So, that's it. 

Game Over. 

P.S. The title came later.