Teach your pitch: That phatic feeling

Not a found voice, not a lost one rather. Again, you may have all the proper words and orientation of thoughts, gather and etch them on lead tablets  and they are still untimely fluffy and specious. You recall O elaborating on textual identities and valences of hypertext. Like then, now you still believe, regardless of their medium, the simplest of ideas are incorruptible. You can illusion the eyes, muffle the sounds, but how does one ever suppress that phatic feeling of your mind?