We’re talking about mattresses and their needing to be recycled, and this is small lunchtime talk, and I don’t know if it is even worth mentioning, but it’s nice. It’s one of those conversations that features a good deal of ranting and raving, and it mentions hostile imagery featuring tissue boxes and used beds, and now I don’t know as to where I am going with this, so I don’t know as to where I am going with this.

Anyway, I think that there are other things to consider, and beyond those considerations I think there are other, OTHER things to consider, but I don’t want to consider those or the other ones. What I want to do is finish this rambling scrawl and then get back to work. There is work to be done and I am the doer of the work. I am the doer and the ender of the work.

Alright, so where was I going with this? Where was I going with anything? It is difficult to tell, but maybe in the telling there is the doing, and maybe in the doing there is the telling. How am I supposed to know?

Perhaps what I need to say and do is something that makes sense, where the doing component is making sure it all makes sense. Little of this makes sense and I am slowing down a bit, but maybe I can pick up the pace and if I pick it up enough I can make even less sense.

What I will actually do is cross a desert and in doing so, under the stars and in the exceptional cold is look for someone or something, and I will work out how to interact with whatever it is that I am looking for, and perhaps it will be a computer of some sort and it will have power, even though that wouldn’t make sense, but who cares? It’s all fantasy at the end of the day.

In that fantasy perhaps I will hold you aloft and then you will do the same and hold yourself aloft, and we will cross the heavens and witness it all. We will see all the vile, heinous acts and we shall see them as they are washed away by the good times and something enjoyable, and we will see innocence grow and we will witness it all as we move further toward nonexistence, and then maybe I’ll wake up next to you and we’ll enjoy the day, and that will be that.

However, all of this is some sort of wishful thinking or something, and maybe it’s just not wishful in the slightest and I’m just letting myself crap on for a while in order to find some sort of meaning. I don’t know if I can truly find it,l but you keep on searching and you keep on hoping for the best and you try and try again, and sometimes it’s all good and that isn’t the worst thing.

The time it took to write five-hundred words: 05:43:65

Yeah, it’s not great. This was being written whilst having a conversation and it threw me off, and there was no recovery so I just kept going instead of stopping.

Written at work.