Miscellaneous being in all-ways motion.
I am not a great swimmer and I don't have a driving licence, I don’t particularly like flying, so let's say
I like to take myself for a walk. 
(with/in new)
I drum books, sing prints, doodle dances, eat mind movies.
(Here. Verbs make me blush.
All of the linguistic architecture does) 

I walk through visions and associations. They either become matter, vapour or some (quite a few) land on others’ cheeks and chins in the form of odd comments (bad timing is my key). Often I feel like a Pandora vase. Limbs, and hair, and organs, water of images and thoughts, billions of them cascading off my occupied space, going into space, disobeying gravity.

A current that becomes stuff.
I move my body about them, my brain about them.
At times I have to draw my borders, to see and hold this flying flesh.  
The landing?
Bursting this out in outer space, flat and voluminous.