I've been told I have the gift of the gab, and I've essentially just written down a stream of consciousness as I would speak it. Sorry for the silly turns of phrase. I'm from the treeline in the prairies, we talk funny here.
Madness string 112800
It is an impossible sofa. A great mystery, unquantifiable, unsolvable. We all have them, little things we find that simply cannot be and yet they are nonetheless there, before us, taunting, tantalising, jarring our very perception of reality. There is no reason, no explanation, no hope of understanding. They are simply impossible. And they are sofas. And they are what make the universe worth living in.