26 restrictions

Rhythmic clattering on black keys as the symbols appear and make meaning. Slowly at first as the idea is born, slowly gathering speed, becoming more urgent as the flow of thought starts to take shape and become one coherent whole. Brief pauses between structured lines of black on white.

Symbols arranged in seemingly random order, relevant only to those that have been taught to decipher the meaning of each individual letter, and the combined meaning of endless possibilities, well approximately: 403291461126605635584000000 combinations.

The author makes his way through the endless combinations, dictated to him by the great authorities of his time. Oh, Oxford you wondrous bastard you! 1,010, 469.7 words to choose from and still sometimes his is unsure of what to type next, unsure of the way the words must appear on the stark whiteness in front of him. Because somewhere out there in the swirling mass of information, someone might just happen to glance at this attempt at creation. A feeble attempt at creating, making something out of nothing more than a structured flow of consciousness ad 26 symbols. 

Clattering away the symbols become words and as the flow increases in pace sentences are formed, each different to the previous but somehow connected. Connected by an invisible stream of understanding, shared by all who are able to decipher the message. Not understood the same way, but understood none the less. Or so he hopes as he punches the keys and ends off another sentence with a period, or punctuation. Depending on where you are from...