I’d like to hear the depths of it, spoke in your voice for as long as you care to explain it. Your book, or any other cogitations my Talik’s got wrapped in himself. Whatever I do or don’t catch hold of, truth is I’m eager for hearing what catches in your thinking and all the ways you tell it. Truth is there’s nothing you can tell me I won’t value, and nothing you hold that I’d not follow you through.
Aye, and can’t deny I’ve, eh, let’s say appreciation for the follow through on moral obligations where grand scale harm’s at hand. Grand scale or smaller, true, point being there’s causes of destruction can’t be borne.
No fault to yourself there being particular exemplars of bloodied malfeasance.
True to say I’m sure those exemplars wouldn’t see it so, but fuck em thricewise for thinking themselves above denouncing.
Eh, was going to else what else you may’ve writ, but I’ve got this power of web search at my fingertips, and my supposition’s you don’t make much a habit of aliases.
Related to the matter of nonexistent and existent aliases, fact is I couldn’t hold onto that query and put the screws to Senan David already. Makes sense anyrate, he in his argumentative philosopher punk glories, good for him and good for yourself both, that collaborating.
[ … ]
You ever meet his mother? Asking only as her name came up with Wilco, and you’d’ve liked her. Eh, anyone’d be hard pressed not to, and maybe what I mean’s I like to think you’d met her so here I’m asking.
[ … ]
Right so.
Thinking it’s not necessity telling you you’ve got me on that cause for my malaise. That’d be one of the mains, aye, far as causes go.
The others, eh. Likely you can guess their shape as well. Got a lot to do with why there’s not much else in the way of locales I’ve inhabited. Not speaking evasive here, only that’s another set of tangents and there’s the immediate for discussing now.
It ain’t strange to me, what you’re speaking. In logic’s terms, it’s no far stretch believing there’s a fair number of eh academics walking around head up the arse spouting nonsense. Open up a headline or fuck help me so much as catch a glimpse of any program purporting news, you’ll hear plenty from them on the daily. There’s cases where academic titling means mostly a shite opinion’s apt to be taken with a weight it’s no cause to keep. Case in point Ursula fuckin Hancock with her five degrees and a handbag full of columns for titling her malignance sound sense. Boggles the mind, it does. Or would were it not for knowing the loudest contingent of this fuck of a country’s its most rabid, any case. Fucking ‘Britain losing the next world war on account of it’s too woke to fight’ rot.
Aye, but logic and knowing’s one thing, feeling and knowing’s another, particularly in the, eh application to one’s self. Which I’d wager’s nothing strange to you.
Something for you and I alike to hold for one another, could be? Assurance where the self’s uncertain. Assertion for what circumstance and outside radges have played against. Malaise and moods’ve got no chance holding up against ourselves, I’m thinking.
[ … ]
A fact for you. That last message I sent, just after eh, first looking at those links you sent. Spent a lot of that one second guessing what it was I wrote. Deleted near as much as I let stand. Dwelt too long on what to say and how to say it, and whether I was, eh, putting on some fronting.
No fault of yours, goes without saying but I say it anyway. Fuck of a trip a mind’ll play on a bloke when it starts its gnawing.
Point I’m coming to is I’ve done none of that here. No rethinking and no hesitations. No falling to the eh jaws or maw of worry, and that’s a fast turnaround for myself, and credit speaks to you.
You’re a good man, Talik. Good in the ways many claim without reaching, speaking ‘good’ in ways more ought aspire to and work toward.
Good for your Vevay, that’s so. Speaking with you, thinking on you’s breathing fresh life and turns the world wider again, and welcoming.
Far as comforting goes, you’ve given that in spades already. Won’t say I’ve not got my self doubts still, but they’ve gone quieter. Significantly so. Hard for em to speak so loud when I’ve got your voice talking acclaim upon me, assuring all that’s well and drawing thorns out from my heart.
There’s that for you, as well, that you’re a good heart’s keeper, and better far than ‘good’ can compass.
Wouldn’t say no to your hold or your arms, and I’m in agreement with you there, that there’ll be no doubts left for knowing once I’m with you, near and up against you. Words’ll bat off worries, and it’s truth your words comfort me further than any speech or touch I’ve known before, simpatico’s what you are with me or I with you, but there’s much to be said for presence, eyes and hands and heartbeats.
2/3
Aye, and can’t deny I’ve, eh, let’s say appreciation for the follow through on moral obligations where grand scale harm’s at hand. Grand scale or smaller, true, point being there’s causes of destruction can’t be borne.
No fault to yourself there being particular exemplars of bloodied malfeasance.
True to say I’m sure those exemplars wouldn’t see it so, but fuck em thricewise for thinking themselves above denouncing.
Eh, was going to else what else you may’ve writ, but I’ve got this power of web search at my fingertips, and my supposition’s you don’t make much a habit of aliases.
Related to the matter of nonexistent and existent aliases, fact is I couldn’t hold onto that query and put the screws to Senan David already. Makes sense anyrate, he in his argumentative philosopher punk glories, good for him and good for yourself both, that collaborating.
[ … ]
You ever meet his mother? Asking only as her name came up with Wilco, and you’d’ve liked her. Eh, anyone’d be hard pressed not to, and maybe what I mean’s I like to think you’d met her so here I’m asking.
[ … ]
Right so.
Thinking it’s not necessity telling you you’ve got me on that cause for my malaise. That’d be one of the mains, aye, far as causes go.
The others, eh. Likely you can guess their shape as well. Got a lot to do with why there’s not much else in the way of locales I’ve inhabited. Not speaking evasive here, only that’s another set of tangents and there’s the immediate for discussing now.
It ain’t strange to me, what you’re speaking. In logic’s terms, it’s no far stretch believing there’s a fair number of eh academics walking around head up the arse spouting nonsense. Open up a headline or fuck help me so much as catch a glimpse of any program purporting news, you’ll hear plenty from them on the daily. There’s cases where academic titling means mostly a shite opinion’s apt to be taken with a weight it’s no cause to keep. Case in point Ursula fuckin Hancock with her five degrees and a handbag full of columns for titling her malignance sound sense. Boggles the mind, it does. Or would were it not for knowing the loudest contingent of this fuck of a country’s its most rabid, any case. Fucking ‘Britain losing the next world war on account of it’s too woke to fight’ rot.
Aye, but logic and knowing’s one thing, feeling and knowing’s another, particularly in the, eh application to one’s self. Which I’d wager’s nothing strange to you.
Something for you and I alike to hold for one another, could be? Assurance where the self’s uncertain. Assertion for what circumstance and outside radges have played against. Malaise and moods’ve got no chance holding up against ourselves, I’m thinking.
[ … ]
A fact for you. That last message I sent, just after eh, first looking at those links you sent. Spent a lot of that one second guessing what it was I wrote. Deleted near as much as I let stand. Dwelt too long on what to say and how to say it, and whether I was, eh, putting on some fronting.
No fault of yours, goes without saying but I say it anyway. Fuck of a trip a mind’ll play on a bloke when it starts its gnawing.
Point I’m coming to is I’ve done none of that here. No rethinking and no hesitations. No falling to the eh jaws or maw of worry, and that’s a fast turnaround for myself, and credit speaks to you.
You’re a good man, Talik. Good in the ways many claim without reaching, speaking ‘good’ in ways more ought aspire to and work toward.
Good for your Vevay, that’s so. Speaking with you, thinking on you’s breathing fresh life and turns the world wider again, and welcoming.
Far as comforting goes, you’ve given that in spades already. Won’t say I’ve not got my self doubts still, but they’ve gone quieter. Significantly so. Hard for em to speak so loud when I’ve got your voice talking acclaim upon me, assuring all that’s well and drawing thorns out from my heart.
There’s that for you, as well, that you’re a good heart’s keeper, and better far than ‘good’ can compass.
Wouldn’t say no to your hold or your arms, and I’m in agreement with you there, that there’ll be no doubts left for knowing once I’m with you, near and up against you. Words’ll bat off worries, and it’s truth your words comfort me further than any speech or touch I’ve known before, simpatico’s what you are with me or I with you, but there’s much to be said for presence, eyes and hands and heartbeats.
Twelve days, Talik, twelve days.