slipping away.

time is running out, duders.
this pre-dawn awareness activation
that i've been insomniac attacking isn't
really as productive as it could be.
i mean,
nothing is open,
nobody is awake,
and i'm all by my lonely,
except for the littlest singing birdies
providing backup vocals to my internal dialogue.
that's some sh!t.
i've got to get ready, get set, set up, stock up, and get going.
when the going gets tough, friends,
i know that that's just really real life,
doo-dooing what it does best.
hard styles for miles and miles, kid.
just sayin',
neighbors,
in just a couple of days i'm on the road again,
and in the air, again,
and on a vacant space station of vacation.
again.
and this time, instead of anoles in the house,
guess what's up?
centipedes, apparently.
yuuuuuuuuuuuup.
...and they bite.
obviously.
does that SO flippin' figure, or what?
are you kidding?
it's like they're spiders through a kaleidoscope.
or, as i would prefer to consider them,
unreal venom tubes of nightmare made chitinous flesh.
F* that tropical insect interaction intercession
i thought the time difference would
screw up my sleep patterns,
but not as much as feelie-boppin' bugsnakes will.
oh, man!
*
i'm shavin' off activities i'd have liked
to get rad on before my trip.
there's no time.
i'm NOT shaving my beard though.
other stuff can happen or not,
but facial hairiness is non-negotiable.
for all the scenes being cut from this section,
i'm still reppin' some more family togetherness
with my connecticut peoples before i travel across
the barriers of here and now,
over to there and then,
for even more family togetherness with
my travel-sized pizza manly man and his lady.
that's traveling to travel with some traveled traveling in between.
yeah.
that's some mighty major move making,
and it's all about to be really happening.
today, however,
it's hack jokes and hacking coughs and trying to maintain
the ability to hack it through the bleary-eyed blase banter
of another 'nother tattbombing sunday afternoon.
i'm sick of not sleeping,
and i'm sick of being ill,
and i'm sick of being unwell in all those other other ways.
ninjas,
i need a break,
and a need a mend.
and i need 'em quickly.
that's a breakfast and a mendfast, y'heard?
c'mon.
that's real.
***********
i got the mad farmer poems,
by my man wendell berry.
i ordered it a while back.
it's dope.
really dope.
it has a poem in it that was read at my wedding.
that's right,
i had poems and sh!t at my wedding.
i like romance and jauns like that, y'all.
i dunno, yo.
but that dude wendell knows what's up.
i've got bags to pack, kids,
and parcels to post,
and berfday presents to purchase.
so much to do,
so little time;
never quiet, never soft.....