Let’s create fiction for walking and staring at the sidewalk. Fiction about sidewalk gazing. Gaze walk, with thoughts. Actions occur as they are so wont too occur – but only in knowing that that’s the end effect of them, really. As thoughts themselves, occurring. Action denotes thought and thinking. The process of walking, conversely, is rooted in thinking because all processes are rooted in thinking. Walking down the street is a way to orientate yourself with not only the world around you but within the world you possess inside of your head. The world in your head is deeper than the one around you and can go further. By deepening the world inside of our heads, the depth of learning is passed on upon the world around us. In that way, thinking makes for ‘Beautiful.’ And walking makes thinking. It’s an extroverted introversion, an exercise in movement.
All movements – be they positive or negative – are progressive in that they (the thoughts, with movement) occur and that with each thought is attained a certain level of progress. You further yourself, hurtling, into the future with hands in pockets at a steady four miles per hour. Ours is a generation whose most popular fabric is apathy in dappled shades of revolt. There is too much fluoride in the water, too much violence on T.V., too many similar politicians for us to really actually be affected by anything. We carry thousands of songs in our pocket and we want to gaze upon clouds – foreign clouds – always, constantly, in good company and enjoying ourselves.
To purport mediocrity makes for a cop-out that’s simultaneously genius unwound as much as it is neurosis wound-tight. So, meet oddballs. The way a shield volcano works is by growing with the spread of gravity upon its oozed lava, layer upon layer. Itself, upwards. That being said: there is no such thing as a ridiculous conversation. Become engulfed. Tighten your genius-instinct. Get a little loose around people. Nothing you can possibly say will ever mean anything of real significance until someone has repeated it. Become repeatable, is all. Dabble in dog-paddling the fathomless gulf of the absurd, but make sure to wear goggles.
But most of all decide to love and do so ‘till the palms of your hands quiver like Wagner’s as you walk down the street. Blast weird music on the top story of the bus and allow for the arrhythmia of clenched fists and gritted teeth direct glissandos of wild-animal traffic. Fall in love often and too easily. Tarzan-swing from love to love. Onward. Forward. Up. This is The System, and The System provides. The function of the System is self-perpetuation inspired by movement and love and desire and want and thinking and mostly, walking places. So walk. Stare at the sidewalk and just keep on walking.
Nick Kipley, London