reading is as sinful as my computer screen

it is an objective truth that the only good and moral experiences are those that reaffirm our corporeal presences. exercise and sex and sleeping and eating are all acknowledgements of the limitations of our bodies. without constantly feeling, a stretching of the skin or a straining of the limbs, there is doubt that we continue to exist. all other activities are inferior, merely distractions from the utmost truth and beauty that is the privilege of living in this physical world. one who lives in words and ideas is nothing without a connection to nature and to science. meaning can only be prescribed through senses: acute and colourful visuals are best, a marvel of evolution; hearing and touch are necessary; taste and smell indicative of fine culture. but no description exists without prior knowledge. ideas are fundamentally tied to personal history, which can only be experienced through the senses. to participate in bodily recreation is to reconnect with the origin of mind. my screen is no less pure than your book; molecules of ink are the pixels. both describe ideas but are fundamentally worthless without both a previous understanding of and a pitiful reliance on the physical. ideas are never purely communicated but transmitted through a visual or aural translation, paragraphs and line breaks obligatory for comprehension. we are never lifted from these material shackles, and to attempt so is sinful. i write this poem in one line and resize the text editor to make it more appealing.