I mean, we knew he was a strong, self-contained fellow. Always seemed to have his shit together. You know what I mean? Didn’t need anyone glancing his way. He was always thinking outside the box. But nowadays you couldn’t tell if he was anywhere near the box, alive or dead, here or there. If you even looked at him sideways, he would just split, man. He was all over the place and back, in an instant! I shit you not! You might not even know he was back in the hood until you looked away.
We called him Schroedinger, Roady for short. Never knew what path the dude was gonna take, or where you’d end up. He was dynamic and unpredictable, but we loved hanging out with Roady, –when he wasn’t warping the space-time continuum. Dug how he took the fucking box and threw it in the fire.
If you were able to catch a rare glance of Roady when he split the infinitive, and warped the laws of physics, –you would see he was beyond that quantum process bullshit. Bro had mad skills. Could be just like the rest of us, –not knowing which way to go until somebody notices you’re struggling.
Still. He was focused on the imaginary box, and how to use that to shred the concept of duality. There was no symmetry, no wave, no particle, no Faraday cage. It was all an illusion. It was whatever you wanted it to be! That’s what we thought he meant anyhow. Yeah, he was one intuitive fellow, that Roady.
~©Jazzi Ryan Ranes~