gadji beri bimba glandridi laula lonni cadori

Today in class you probably thought I rambled on and on with no direction. In all of that mush and misunderstanding and cut-off phrasing was actually "something" inside of my head. Maybe I would've been better drawing a picture or writing you guys a poem. How do you know if what you heard was what I meant? You don't. How do you know that I knew what I wanted to say? I don't. How do you know what I wanted to say was REALLY what I wanted to say? You don't, and I really don't. All of what I (and I hope people, in general, otherwise I'm heading towards a dizzying future) say is just riding on a hope that we stay in some sort of horizon of hoped understanding. Thats what I think horizon is. Am I wrong? Are all the sounds we produce just a hoped possibility that the paroles will turn into a formed langue? Look up "Hugo Ball" on google and you'll quickly find out that "elephant turnip paperclip" must have some sort of meaning! It comes from a brain (or a brian?) and all of those neurons, they work together, well, if not in some sort of order! Nothing is random! I guess then I would say that there is one (very complicated) original meaning for a text that we can never really comprehend nor ever figure out, but it is there! It is the intent of all of those cells working and processing together, in a moment, for the work of writing, and once it's out there, there go all the other brains of the world into which it dissolves to be processed, moved around, and spit back out--for a brand new work that emerges in all that processing!