Over And Over, Again

I have sat here

In this same spot

Hundreds and hundreds of times

I have sipped from countless drinks

Written thousands and thousands of words

Line after line

Night after countless night

I have watched hour after hour on this same tv

And listened to so many jazz albums

That my brain would not even register a number

As tall as it is

And what do I have to show for it all?

I now own a couch, with a depression

I have spent too much money on drinks

And had to wash too many glasses

I’m left with countless unpublished works and writes

My trusty old tv is still working

And is still used to fill up the dead hours

As far as the jazz goes?

Every night, from the early to the wee hours

Some things are done because we’re used to it

Some are done for the comfort we get from it

I really don’t have the answers


That I do very few things here, but

When I do them

I have no idea when or how to stop

Damn you, comfort

© Dicky J Loweman 2015


  1. It is such a normal human thing, finding comfort in routine. That being said, I had someone tell me earlier this year if I was going to ever get the things I really and truly wanted I was going to have to do things that made me uncomfortable. I’ve been doing a lot of uncomfortable things lately. So there, I’m fucking uncomfortable…and still waiting for the pay off.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. My feeling on this, is find what makes you comfortable, first. Then go out and get it, but get it your way. A way in which you can be as comfortable as possible. It’s not always easy, but fuck everybody else. Do what’s best for you first. People say I’m selfish, but fuck them. It’s a big bad world and nobody else will look out for you, if you don’t look out for you, first. Maybe I am an asshole, but this works for me.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. well thank you for that, I’ve been called a cold selfish bitch quite a bit as of late for trying to pursue my own happiness. But I know I have to go through some shit, be uncomfortable, be sad, be scared for a bit before I can get to that comfortable place again. Before I can find some old worn indented sofa and fall back into it with a sense of peace. And i have not had peace for a very long time. It is time.

        Liked by 2 people

                1. I’ve tried, but they won’t budge. Something about being the only friends I have at times. Which is fine, because they can sift through all my bullshit, yet they still manage to enjoy my shows. That’s more than I can ask of most. So I just let them stay.


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