Sometimes_______.  No! let me start again (he says with an agitated sigh
for not being able to quickly enough find the right words, and began over,
clearing his throat)….
Sometimes i touch you. Though not aggressively. Or even dispassionately.
… No,  dispassionately is the wrong descriptive. What i’m trying to say to
you-, or rather describe to you, is a species of sentiment more akin to the
temper of middle-management, and the way in-which they (middle-
management) might touch one of their hourly subordinates as they swiftly
maneuver themselves past and around you in tight courters, with their
greedy little song bird eyes fixed to just one particular destination; [The next
rung up]!
And with that slight brushing of you to the side, they let it be known…,
unmistakably, (to you) without a word, that the next rung up is definitely
not you!
I don’t even touch you tenderly…. I “just” touch you.
what a disgusting word!…
what a disgusting abortion of an emotion, and an even more disappointing
way in-which to express oneself; Is with the use of a word such as “Just”!
It’s as if i were only to say too you…, that myself, as well as everything else in
this life, is “just” occupying some vaguely defined space while thoughtlessly
casting out only vaguely measurable shadows. And that every bit of matter that
surrounds me…, including you! is nothing more than “just” one of those many,
conditional, reducible calculations….

How thoroughly unfortunate and low cast our once beautiful language has be-
come… Don’t you think?
Specially when considering the elegance of its histories in intellectual elevation?

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