See My Sounds

Static, surfacing from some unknown place, has its way of undermining anyone’s sense of confidence, anyone’s sense of structure, anyone’s sense of reality, even; but perhaps that’s getting away with too much; perhaps that’s attempting to get away with too much, given the effects and implications of varying colors that lie just beyond; these colors may not beckon anything specific, nor would they impose themselves in such a way, in some vague conviction formed when all was primary, but instead concentrate on a coalescing cooperation conceived caustically, candidly, but all the same, contrived in its communication; a language that, it seems, speaks in engrossing invitations: tonal utterances employed so as to delineate and designate, all the while placating any anchored anxiety… we are anxious, addling, and alien, how about you?? …  but then the answer is obvious, caressing even the most reserved of fears and obviating any compulsion to purse an expression or parse an agenda (or lack thereof), gently encouraging a tension-induced relaxation; these are echoes you feel, these are caverns of sound where no absorption is averred, abstractly aching appendages and ankles, a, a, an, a, a, an act is all it is, but it convinces me nonetheless, slipping into some distant reverie that is devoid of banality and rich with compelled concerns that are in their own right, for once, devoid of apprehension; no, this isn’t a mood for a day, or how we approach such convention; no, it isn’t manifested in overwrought imagery of gates and acceptance; no, no, this is clarity that is excluded from the notion itself; it reveals something that is deeply personal, ignoring that obligation to the profound and favoring the specific way in which those colors abound, asking politely whether or not they are felt.