So I think I may have answered the phone this morning and I think I may have been told by the sergeant at the other end of the line that there was some sort of formation at some point in the future. I think he said I had to be there and I think he knows that I work nights. But it was all so hazy and surreal that I'm not sure if what I think can be trusted any more. If, in fact, I did get this call this morning I think they expect me to be there. Thing is I don't think I can recall the time or the place. I think I could get in trouble for not going and I think I don't really care. Who knows what lay in these thoughts of mine these days? My judgments and conceptions of reality have been askew since my days have begun at sunset.
The other day I think I heard two pigeons having sex outside my window. I think I was even woken up by their moans. I think I scared them away with a broom. I think I went back to bed right after and I still think i heard their moans. I think they shit on my balcony and I think that I want to shoot them.
I thought I was going to win Powerball yesterday for 340 million dollars until I didn't buy a ticket
because I thought that the cutoff was just before the numbers were drawn. Then I thought there would be no winner so I could try this Saturday. When I saw that there was a winner, I thought about going to Oregon and stealing the ticket. I thought the winner was probably someone less deserving than me. Then I thought, "Does anyone really DESERVE to have that much money freely given to them?" After careful thought I decided yes, me.
I thought "Dead Like Me" would be resurrected just as I thought Madden would be put in a grave. I thought the Giants were destined to win against the Cowboys and I thought the Yankees were saved. I think I'm starting to hate my writing but I don't think my professors do. It seems, I think, that my bullshit still sells. And I don't think my professor's see through.
My eyes burn with fury as I think I've thought too much for the day. I think I should have brought in a pillow. "That's not permitted" is what think they'd say. I think I've had enough. I think my
thoughts are barren. I think a thought that thinks itself has thought enough for thinkers.
The other day I think I heard two pigeons having sex outside my window. I think I was even woken up by their moans. I think I scared them away with a broom. I think I went back to bed right after and I still think i heard their moans. I think they shit on my balcony and I think that I want to shoot them.
I thought I was going to win Powerball yesterday for 340 million dollars until I didn't buy a ticket
because I thought that the cutoff was just before the numbers were drawn. Then I thought there would be no winner so I could try this Saturday. When I saw that there was a winner, I thought about going to Oregon and stealing the ticket. I thought the winner was probably someone less deserving than me. Then I thought, "Does anyone really DESERVE to have that much money freely given to them?" After careful thought I decided yes, me.
I thought "Dead Like Me" would be resurrected just as I thought Madden would be put in a grave. I thought the Giants were destined to win against the Cowboys and I thought the Yankees were saved. I think I'm starting to hate my writing but I don't think my professors do. It seems, I think, that my bullshit still sells. And I don't think my professor's see through.
My eyes burn with fury as I think I've thought too much for the day. I think I should have brought in a pillow. "That's not permitted" is what think they'd say. I think I've had enough. I think my
thoughts are barren. I think a thought that thinks itself has thought enough for thinkers.
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