a typewriter left for anyone to use became an interesting art piece

my friend audrey had people over to her apartment once. she and her roomies had their (and others') art on display. in the empty, back bedroom, there were two typewriters on a desk. there was also plenty of paper. the idea was that people would pass by, type something up, and move on. someone else then, would pass by, type something up, and move on. it was a living, real time art exhibit that we all took part in. i can't remember how many people added to it, but i copied down what was typed. here is just a portion. i only wish you could have seen the original (with its typo's and odd spacing).

there is a man there that tells you the way to the bridge to the underworld, and when you have been there life seems to be not so bleak as the worries of the day make it. the land of the dead is as dismal as the land of the hidden city is bright and full of life. so time stands still and you see the past laid out in front of you like a silk sheet. you can see the ripples that make up your daily struggles and when the sheet ends, there is nothing more than another sheet. and sheets make up the tapestry of untold beauty. you weep to see it. in it is those tears that bring you back from the edge of oblivion even if you've gone beyond it. once you've seen the tapestry of life and the endless valleys and hills that make it up, you no longer fear death.
i journeyed back from that land and when i resumed my place on ship, i was no longer the lowly seaman that i had begun the journey as. instead, i was the captain of my own destiny. and i have followed it ever since.

what are your thoughts? cheers . . ..