Daiv - I can't think here

     I just read some magazine that they distribute on the space station.  Well, I thumbed through it.  I found that it was hard to care.  I could appreciate the articles, and how well-written they were, the graphic lay-out, the feigned professionalism, and I just didn't care.  The articles didn't appeal to me much, and it is hard to take a publication seriously when there are sex ads in the back.
     The transgender alien is still sitting to the left of me.  Its purpose seems to be to annoy me.  I wish it would shut up.  He/she is doing a good job of bothering at least two people.  It was fine before he/she sat down.  Now I have to listen to its pedestrian concerns.  The drama with some people underwhelms me.
     You know, you really can tell the difference between people who read a lot and people who talk a lot.
     All I know is I am tired of hot air.
     When I was on Earth, I lived in L.A. for a time.  I had enough hot air there to last me a lifetime.
     I am glad I am on this space station, far away from my home solar system.  There ain't nothing for me back there.  I think I have burned all of my bridges.  The problem is that I am going to have to start building some new ones.  My resources are drying up.  Some investments haven't worked out the way I was hoping they would.  That is sad.

     The alien was talking up a storm to an uninterested listener, and I had to bear the brunt of the noise.  It sounded more like therapy than about anything being said.  It was a major inconvenience to the tranquility and reflectiveness of my thoughts.  It was unfortunate.
     I now feel that I am distracted, and I am considering leaving, to go back to my ship, to continue my work there.
     I don't feel like I have finished my work here, though.  I feel there is more I must do, but I can't seem to think straight with the barrage of emotion I just had to endure. 
     Maybe another cup of coffee would fix me up.  Maybe it would just make me irritable, and give me a sooner reason to piss.
     He/she has quieted down now, but is still prominent in my peripheral vision.
     Nope, he/she has started up again.  He/she sounds stressed out, and it is irritating.
     Who you are inside doesn't matter with the shell on the outside of you.
     If you alter your shell, you still have to deal with the inside of you no matter what.  Other people have to deal with you, too.
     I'm just minding my own business, and now I have to deal with this thing.  It wasn't my fault, I was just sitting here.
     Now I am forced to leave.  It is as if reason and thought has been thrown out the window, and I can't think in this space with the rules changed so much.

     I prefer my drama on a television show.
     At the cafe, I just want peace and quiet.

     Yup, I am out of here.

     I just can't think here.