3:00 AM

`~,,~`

3:00 AM,

The cravings hit,

Plus I needed the fresh air, and to stretch my legs,

After 77 straight hours of studying

I was losing my mind,

Information stopped processing

We headed out to IHOP,

I have cravings for waffles and hash browns

When we sit down, I panic and order the burger and fries,

Like I always do,

It’s… Safe, it is structured, it’s well ordered

It provides a closure to my open circuits

A familiarity to my world,

If, My Dear God, if it were open

Who knows what spirits and familiars would wonder right in

Food gets here as I am writin down thoughts on the napkin

I wait 3 minutes to eat, as I always do

To let it cool, plus it’s safe, 3 minutes,

My God, 3’s for everything,

Daydreaming,

Daydreaming and wondering about freedom of thought

The chains of life that bind me,

Chains, and what ifs

And about next time,

What if next time I order the eggs and hash browns

Would the total randomness of it invite in chaos supreme,

And destroy the carefully structured order of my universe

I end up drinking most of her coffee and water,

She drinks most of my built cherry Pepsi

I take to writin down these past actions in my notebook,

She asks why I carry around beat up notebooks to write in,

Without blinkin a lash I reply

Because every word and circumstance must be recorded by me, for posterity

Or I won’t be allowed to sleep,

She looks at me and laughs in disbelief, at this fool of a man,  

When I’m still her little boy lost, oh how I take myself so seriously;

```~~~...~~~```

A little old guy sits down next to us

Consecutively and directly behind me

He orders the same ol’ thing every time

Coffee & toast, with his cigarettes and paper

Same old thing he can make at home

But he comes there

Not for the attention or to be served,

But because it’s the last way he can still be part of society

And then quietly go home

I get it,,, I get it I feel it,

…I dig…

Its brightly lit, the music on, bright and cheery,

And the buzz electric of society & street lights are in the air

Row after row, everything is sweet and ordered – its in the air,

Row after row, table after table, all the silverware are tightly wrapped,

Tightly & cleanly within white crisply sharp napkins

The shiny clean coffee pots all setup uniformly in order

The music is flimsy, bouncy and always on loop

Aint been a fan of modern sounds in years

I started softly singin Visions of Johanna to myself,

I take a sip of my coffee, close one eye & scratch an eye brow

And put my right hand on my chin, and sit and think,

I do it every time, for some reason

```~~~... ... ...~~~```