trying to think

This the only part of the letter I couldn’t bring myself to omit, as I felt I had a larger responsibility given my responsibilities in the circumstances I now find myself in; of course this is all considering the fact that I have not been able to urinate without the help of anyone capable on their own, considering me and my circumstance, to be someone I could trust with the difficult task of helping me pee on my own which is an oxymoron. Anyway, this is the only part of the letter I didn’t feel so heavily encumbered to relate to let some of the weight off my mind which is in a shambles right now because of all the stress due to whatever I can tell is going to be the problem, and if I can ever see my way clear of this wreck that I find myself in and looking around the room I can only guess that I am on my own but who is to say, if they were in my room or in my feet or shoes or whatever the man says. And in this, the year of our anticipated reflex, I can say “(Put simply) is one way of hooking those thoughts that I can’t yen for till I can find out what it is I am looking for, and it is the fear that peeling away those factors (most decidedly a rampant aspect of those thoughts that I haven’t yet taken care of, or under my wing to do so, or to speak into your car or van or truck or whatever it is that you drive these days) doesn’t really matter except that I cannot get my mind around it – I cannot wrap my mind into the shape required for the job that was handed to me when I wasn’t looking or even thinking about the possibility that I could ever have been handed this type of derogation of absentia or authority, at least as far as my sanity was concerned,” he intoned methodically, which he always did when he couldn’t think of anything else to say (which I think under the circumstances [as it were] was the safest thing to say); he asked himself in the dream that he was thinking about that conversation he had had with the man who said the thing about the car that he had had when he had nothing but jokes and things that he had found while he was asking people for directions to the place where he left the things that he was considering asking out when the moments were right in their plurality (or whatever type of thoughts or modes you would call someone who was furiously anticipating those things that weren’t on the cusp of the part he was positively groping for, he remained there until he remembered.
In fact, considering what I was up until yesterday unable to articulate, it is something that I cannot even factor in to this which is the crux of the mantle of the mantle of this thing which is of itself something that must not in any way refer to something that cannot be asking the thing I think it is, even if I never even asked to be let in. Now I am here and I think I deserve what I think is coming to me in that I think I deserve something more that what I have been given because if not, I have something which is not something I can describe adequately.
The notion of the ghost in that junkpiece of filament, in terms of what I can see to be the most important part of that thing which is not yet formed, cannot be something outside of the normal tone of things. If, on the partition of things I have to consider (in the piece of things I have as my own, I now consider things and their matter, if you give equal time to that part which dictates what you have to do with a given piece of something) that one must close off parts of pieces if one has the strength of mind or the presence of character to do so according to everything, but the thing originally desired by whomever, or at least that’s what they told me, when I grabbed a seat and was told to wait for the next available simulacrum of whatever, or some other such words meaning something analogous to an analogy or metaphorical segmentation of present time or its adherents in the mindset of something altogether too complicated to be named in the strictest sense, but nonetheless something vital to be considered before actually committing to anything outside oneself, is what I thought and think even here as I sit and ramify the thinktions and, simply put, consider those parts which weren’t meant to be parts of anything other than the parts of something or other which may or may not come together according to who is writing, who is reading, who is that guy sitting there in the same seat I was thinking of sitting in after I got up you think or might think, but again, as I say, it depends greatly on where you are sitting. It has got to be comfortable, if not equitable.

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