When we write, we open doors.

Doors to worlds that aren't entirely our own.

Subtle markings and patterns from others left in the ways we describe, annunciate, impress, format, and proceed.

New procedures, designed and tested, distributed to others. Dreams of scale, meaning, and profitability.

I think prose is a kind of code, the first kind of software in a way. Our biology, the hardware.

Over time, the lines between prose and code will blur and obfuscate, but biology is biology – and physics is physics.

The hard work, that which yields scale, meaning, and profit, comes from realigning our experience of language and how it propagates to others in different places, in new ways. Ways we have not thought of before.