So here I am, not there but here, sitting down and looking around to see some sort of countenance that envisions the whole fish that floats in space on the way to the potato factory as it does the dance toward the rainbow extending toward the road on which people in small vehicles race along and occasionally through various items at each other in order to be the best, but so long as the colour orange does not overtake blorange (in this case, that is blue orange), we shall see the dawn of another morning reach toward the end time of the zone, for there are taxes to do and taxis to take and tantalising treats to tackle along the tedious tower that tenuously takes timid turtles to the trees.
Well, I could do that, or not, depending on what view you take, but there is a space that eats the eagle as it glides onward and backward, for there is a light that will never go out, unless it does go out in which case we all say goodnight, for the planets rotate along some sort of circumference and the dancing rain eats that which is not known, colouring the world another shade of hat and the hat does the thing whilst winking at something else and then does not do the thing that which it was going to do.
If there was an elliptical orb that we did not perceive, and yet could only feel on the perception of its being, then I am sure that if we all drank tea and wrote in the rock of the earth, bearing our natural nature for all to see as long as the screen was pointing to the left, then I am sure that there would be more that would happen and yet probably not for the monolith rises to the occasion, guiding us along a path of great justice in order to judge us and act as some sort of network of shoes that can only open up and have hands holding guns in them , cornering our heroes in order to make threats become clear and just, but only if we really know the truth of the matter which is sometimes an asshole is just an asshole.
If I were to count on all my fingers the many ways in which there is no way to get away from the day in the hay so long as I lay in a tray full of pay, then I imagine that there would be many ways to count the tie in the die so long as I lie and cry in the sky as the pie rises to the bake and make the mistake of steak puns coming out of its pastry.
Well, that’s all for now. There may be something else to say today when I lay in the hay.
No. I think that now I will put a stop to all this, so long as I fight more fish.
The time it took to write five-hundred words: 05:40:27
There were times when I was trying to do something, but I think most of this might just be random gibberish.
Written at work.