there was a way to walk and talk by catapult from tent village to stumbling grounds, from mist to bogfog, and it sprung from the pretty cloistered funk of a guy we were hanging out with, who said, yeah, the k gets you walking, cause it's so sproingy to be walking when you're in that way, and the c gets you talking, so when you're in this bank of fog, and you wanna bank to another bank that's maybe got a river snaking by its bed, and you wanna see your kinesthesia, and talk about it too, with people that're barely there (but you know them better than you thought you thought a second ago) at cosmic family reunions in corners of pockets, and view it all from a dispassionate vantage in the absence of the sensation of gravity, well then, you take a rucksack with you that's a mixture of two powders for a walktalk, or a talkwalk, a c&k combo, a walkytalky!
it was hilarious - a lingual collision of providence and portent that could not be untangled thereafter, but we all sort of glowed together for an instant like an idea bulb in a cartoon... yeah! he said, as it turned out, that happened at that shambles - that's where it was invented that time... you didn't just think of it now, it emerged from that fog, and almost as soon, sank in the bog... until now! until now, when one of us hit upon the walkytalky communication method across gulfs that shouldn't be gulfs by all reason, i mean, you're sitting across the room from me! but it's also like there's a chasm between our two familial units that splits the rug into a positive and negative universe, both being null-space, and me being okay with that, as long as i keep falling in this direction, or rather, any direction with a similar rate of spin, and/or "search for similar" as soulseek lets you do, and miraculously relay with electromagnetic people who are like family after so little! you think you were the only one who hit upon that idea, of the walkytalky? nah, remember, there's this non-local, non-linear causality where things you're gonna do are influencing the past, and it gets even fuzzier than that at certain vertices in this connect the dot drawing of telepathy tags
sorry, i should say, at one scale it looks like fuzz, at another a ripple, and there's no solid state ever, so, already, you're relying on theoretical dimensions for gauging anything - all i can do is type this type of thing, to even try and do justice to memories that are calling over baud connections, susceptible to future sun flares and skimming the misty surface
he said something about me lacking people skills, but never sleeping pills, at what prompting, i have no clue, while snorfling up the rails i'd graciously laid out for him - that was after he showed up at our house at 3 am looking for a party, cause he thought he could count on his brother, ol' faithfully fucked up - but this time brother was asleep, actually asleep, at night, to get up early for work - but me and luc weren't, so i didn't take the people comment personally, and i didn't let it ruin anything, or anything like that, or everything was in ruins anyway, and there was so much to be done among them
those were the days when we would watch videos in a little box screen in a hole in the world's margins, redundant videos given that we happened to be in a music video most of the time anyway, so videos within videos - and along with this guy was another little guy from the civic - it was the impossible, improbable, implausible creek street solid state of existence - i have the feeling it still could exist, if i'd let it, if i didn't let so much blood
i still have the capacity to sooth people in my pocket, when suddenly i'm deputized to describe why existence isn't such a conundrum - and i'm full of fear like you, and i get pretty black at times, and it's only the rarest of times that i can see that black as beautiful - but with you, and a solid state, and hi-gain, so high it anesthetizes me through audiophonic overkill and the consequent levitation, i can see how warm the absence is, how it pops up in the presence of this treble register waveform over there in a dream variant of the back to the future part ii plot - yeah, we were both born once upon a time, don't you think? you may not remember, but you can backtrack from this current cortex, can't you? so why not again? maybe we'll meet again, we'll have to de-learn one language, re-learn another, and all sorts of plural processes that add up to wishful thinking that is coincidentally true when you measure the velocity.
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