You're reading this... telepathically, non-consciously.
If you look carefully at these words, you'll realize that I'm actually saying something else. I'm not actually telling you about the several reasons why I enjoyed watching Naked Lunch - about the impeccable writing, the film's strange sense of humor; about the metaphors, the social commentary.
This is the first Letterboxd review that I've written in longhand, placed my words down on paper - the paper you so delicately hold in your hand - for a particular form of emphasis, a specific highlighting of the language used, and accentuated via utilization of pen.
The truth of the matter, the deeply rooted thought whose seed was planted long before you opened your eyes to take in these arbitrary signals, these intricately (or not so intricately) woven symbols, whose legitimate meaning is nothingness, but nothing less... is that you notice something strange about my handwriting, don't you?