differences.

there are certain disparities that ride shotgun
with a brutal case of norepinephrinated
fight-or-flight plight-inciting insomnia.
the biggest is an increased awareness of
the difference between cool and super lame.
that's real.
fun, cool, exciting people stay out and up,
and don't turn in until 3 a.m.
whereas,
insomiacs maybe get a few early hours of sleep,
and then rise and shine at 3 a.m. all alone at home.
and that's super lame.
getting up, going down, getting off.
sometimes that sh!t sounds sexy.
but, lately it's just a circadian pun.
getting up...too early.
going down... to sleep.
getting off... to bed.
in fact,
even the sunrise can't really lift my spirits,
since the east is obscured by trees, houses, and mountains.
i can't see it until it's already happened.
and when the whole point is that it's all really happening,
it's sort of like missing out.
and who ever really wants to miss out?
yeah.
i can say that my book collection is growing steadily.
there's no sense in wasting time,
even if it's down time, in the deep dark,
in a fairly remote location,
with no signs of habitable hospitable human activity
for miles in every direction.
and so,
another night,
another book.
another 'nother puffy-eyed purple-faced morning.
awwwwwwwwwwwwww, man.
***********
duders,
what do y'all know about a hunger strike?
like,
a precision SOF surgical tactical mission....
personally,
i'm experiencing more of a hunger smiting.
c'mon.
loss of appetite is a F*ed up thing.
especially for a brutally compulsive professional eater.
neighbors,
i'm shedding those fat cells faster than i'm dropping follicles.
and that's some crash course intensive action, for sure.
it's a farewell to all of their stored energy.
it's like evaporating the past.
i'm reaching a very ichabod crane-ish fighting weight.
which makes some sense.
i'm getting a little hollow,
just not one bit sleepy....
-
i'm like that ugly, skinny, president from back in the day.
y'know the one.
the one with the honesty and the beard and the assassination?
only,
i'm on that emaciation proclamation jauns.
the emancipation seems inevitable, anyway.
*
what?
oh, stop it.
i'm not diminished, duders.
just concentrated.
boiled down to an essential elan,
triple distilled to the basic building blocks
of really realness.
trying hard,
paying attention,
and knowing stuff.
that's what's up.
we all get a choice-
just be dope,
or F* right off.
ninjas,
you know which one of those options
goes to eleven in worthiness,
and which one is not even really anoption,
right?
wordimus prime.
i've got bloodshot lightningbolts blasting
both of my honey-hued orbs,
but my eyes are open, muther-'uckers;
never quiet, never soft.....