I wrote a thing

 I wrote a thing about thing that was bothering me.

I thought if I did that then everything would make sense. I could cross all the Ts and dot all the lower case i's. Punctuate and paragraph. See the logic, behind the illogical and then file it all away in my knowledge bank as being completed.

Yet the more I wrote the thing about the thing that was bothering me, the more times I had to edit it. The more I edited, the less sense it seemed to make, not the thing I was writing, but the thing I was bothered about. 

So I asked friends about the thing that was bothering me and I bothered them, because it was bothering me.

Finally, a friend said, look you'll never understand, because it is too alien to you, so it best to let it go. Now that made sense at the time, but at 3am it didn't so I came back to write my thing about the thing that was bothering.

Then at 05:00 I looked at the thing I was writing about the thing that was bothering me and I spoke to myself quite rudely. I said "Why are you letting this bother you, you silly twunt" it's just the worst smelly fart in the world. Get out of here and leave it all alone.

So, the thing I wrote about a thing, never actually got written and this thing about the thing did and I am happy about that.