Caffeine. the man pointlessly regurgitated thoughts, watching his mind roil. It made no sense; mind invented sense, not the other way around. He was exhausted from thinking.
He looked for a job.
He looked for a job the way a chicken with its head cut off looked for its head. he looked for a job pointlessly, directionlessly, without knowing what he was doing or why he was doing it, or even what he would do if he found what he was looking for. He didn't know what he was looking for. He was just looking around. Whe people asked him what he was doing, he struggled to sound purposeful.
"Oh, I'm just looking around," he would say vaguely. He was lazy, and stoned.
They all hated it, and thought he was lazy, which was a kick. He couldn't get over that one.
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