typography

i feel like a child must feel when confronted with letters for the first time. all these social contraints i've left behind. i've shed all my diapers, beneath my pants you'll find an arid landscape. i can bite, oh yes, but i'll only bite my food i must chew before i swallow. and i must leave those childish vices behind, my clubhouse in pinebranches. oh! how the cold clenches. coats all around, the snow is too frigid for us to remain out too long. and now i read and i combine typed syllables to language to purge me from languid play and subsistence. i repent in an instance of fright and delight all at once.