I was digging around my abandoned files and found the following. I have no idea when it was written or, for that matter, who wrote it. I think it's probably written by me. And I'm wondering if I wrote it while watching television. It reminds me of being a teenager and television, I have no idea what it means. If I don't know what it means can it possibly have meaning? Assuming, of course, that I wrote it.
Phone rings, she tries to answer, but the someone who was there was not patient enough for her to get to them.
Conspiracies abound and alternate between being ineffective or treacherous. Drivers drive unsuspecting people like pawns.
Mountains and fields. Where in God’s name am I? Especially in all of this. There is a town in one direction or another but I do not know which trace of dust to follow. It is not as if I can fix anything which has been broken. It’s not as if I can make a difference in this world of cabs and passengers. I am no sense, no sense to know what to do and they come at me, they come at me looking like saviors or villains in matching suits and exhaust breath. Habits, strain, breakdown but it’s not so bad.
Definite conclusion.
Illness.
Sicker to fee.
Opinions are sensible. Reason is a bit unhinged.
She’s pretty without knowledge, and dangerous with humor.
He had a goatee one day and none the next.
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