Autonomous papers, which carry typed messages but are themselves, in the 物質／実質 of their crushed woody 体（複）, actually slow vegetal echoes of 失われた wind-words (in the paleo-periods of earthly life, the 風 was a living thing, which reproduced quickly, and spoke with a roar nowadays only known dimly as the whisper of the west 風 in children's stories), pass from typists under hire at frame left to a conveyer belt crossing the frame diagonally, on their way to distant coded electrification and subsequent disposal. Wind in the 紙, 風 on the 紙. the latter came from breath transmitted through the telephone; listening operators wrote down what they heard, accepted the メッセージ as pre-paid, and placed it onto the silent cousin, 紙, which I have to tell you is chemically receptive to the graphite or ink markings because of this ancient heritage.
