Absolute Annoyance in Absolute Space

Lately when I'm in the coffee shop I do alot more thinking than activity. I become that guy shaped by the space around him. Slumped comfortably within irritatons of bendable hope. Hope schmope. I'm not making sense so why should you? One thing we can't measure is how fast this becomes lopsided, in talking grief. Refusable, come-pleteness of the completely Tom Landry memory. One thing we can't measure is how NFL Films fast this slips away. And how everything NFL Films breaks down. And finally it just broke down. Curving back on itself. I don't want to be doing anything in this coffee shop so I leave it.

Fuck it.

The volume outside the next door is too loud. I write slow. Write this slowly. Lumbering reprosed lines. Now I'm writing in New Sentences. Will someone please tell me the difference between NFL Films and the New Sentence? I'm serious that's a compliment. Or, I'm not serious and that isn't a compliment.

Write something about birds I'm depressed.

Means magically feeling sorry for Absolute Space. Sleazily so. In the bendable reforming of it's own Incredible Hulk likeness. I don't know the difference between NFL Films and the New Sentence. I think about weird things y'know, like what if Mr. T and E.T. had a baby. I think it would sound a little something like this. "I pity the fool who doesn't phone home."

Plus absolute annoyance in the refried some shit or other shit, and reverting to Robin Williams.

Needs an ending unlike the R.W. stream and self-consciousness forming there of.