There were lines in your reasoning that I could not trace. She is giving me two hours of mumbo jumbo. I wish I could do something about it, maybe create a vaccine. She could dance with the fullness of her womanhood. We sat on our hands and watched the witches dance. They seemed like such pretty little witches. I wondered about their extra nipples. They kicked their legs up high and made attempts to fly. How would they finish? Would they finish at all or would they spin on forever until eternity broke loose from the coils of time? She wants to believe in my smell. I am devoid of purpose, I have become absurd. This world does not make sense, yet the rituals of our lives are very entertaining. We laugh at their utter meaninglessness. You have mistaken me as someone who only wants to wait. You think of me as a gap between though and action. We begin with the living individual and construct our machines of war from these weak materials. You made a life out of fighting against the machine of war. I am a man charging a machine gun nest armed only with a sword. Sometimes life contains aspects that may appear to a rational mind to be absurd. The appearance is only because of ignorance, because of a lack of understanding from the view point of the other. The absurd is that which we do not know of or we do not understand. Is a soldier who throws his body on a grenade being absurd or being very meaningful?