Rochambeau...

its 8-fucking thirty and there is no fucking going on

the biggest decision Ive made today is
which convenience store was going to
sell me dinner
wonderful...
I
know

no fucking, no dinner
at least not yet
dinner will consist of
vegetable soup
a turkey sandwich: served in a whole wheat tortilla
with
artichoke & spinach hummus
and american cheese
and
a delicious diet dr. pepper, 2009
a very good vintage
or at least that's what I was told

not feeling lonely
or alone
but almost like
I've run out of friends
or that
my life has taken a turn
towards full on mundane
and in addition
I've unknowingly taken up
residence on the moon

so many ways to keep in contact
email
twitter
facebook
IM
cellphone
landline
motherfucking skywriting
and part of me feels
like
no one will
answer no matter
how loud I yell

electric ladyland
providing brief reprieve
from
ho humming myself to sleep
wishing for time machine
or maybe just
a
lobotomy
so I can be happy
knowing I have a full belly
wearing pants that fit
without having to ask permission
to go to the bathroom

I want you to update
and you
and you too
to communicate
to admit to people
feelings & emotions
have not gone the way of the buffalo
or VHS
or dial up connections

to be more than
a fucking abercrombie/walmart/chevy/beer commercial
to want more
than everything being
force fed down our
throats
to
grab a warm drink
on a cold night
in a comfy sweatshirt
hold hands with someone
and watch a clear fall
night sky

I hope you all are well.

Cheers,
JJ

The Wayback Machine...

when I was a young boy, young like
four years-old, not like my mid twenties
my parents, grandparents and various other family
would give me books that came with a play along cassette tape
yeah, I said cassette tape
I'm that old

anyway...

these books on tape, I think put out by Superscope
not only fostered and helped grow my love of reading
but also helped me to not hear the voices in my head
even at such a young age

in my teen years
I fell asleep to the white noise of am/fm radio
or whatever music I was listening to at the time
or quite possibly...I could have passed out
from the sheer exhaustion of high school
and later on, working 90+hours a week

when I eventually got to college
I was fortunate enough to have a roommate
who could not fall asleep unless
“Dark Side of the Moon” was on repeat
I swear I learned the lyrics to that disc by osmosis

when I had my own room
it was other stuff
jazz
instrumental
gregorian chant
whatever I could find to
expand my mind and be enough of a distraction
to get to sleep

and here I am
at thirty-something
still in need of silence
be it mental or otherwise
so I go to bed
with headphones on

and I'm drawn back to my childhood
'cause I'm still listening
stories
books via mp3
podcasts
still needing that voice
reassuring me things will be ok
that I can go to bed
get rest

that I've done a good job
and deserve to rest for the day
be it for an hour or four
or on the odd night twelve

I've tried going to sleep sans headphones
failed attempts on more nights than not
make me wonder how I'm
ever going to
fall asleep in
the big boy bed
should I ever be tall enough
to climb up...in...and under the covers

I hope you all are well.

Cheers,
JJ