Author Archives: Joseph Kyle

About Joseph Kyle

Somewhere in Texas. Loves life, love, and Mike Love. Needs a date to the prom. Tries not to write in cliches. Owner of and semi-professional talker to people.

A Stylus Stuck In The Cerebral Cortex, Part III: A Primal Scream From A Beset Bedsit (No No No Yes Yes Yes)

(Click the links for Part 1 and Part 2 of Joseph’s “stimming” saga.)

“Why?” Yoko Ono & The Plastic Ono Band, 31 Listens


Hi, my name is Joseph Kyle, and I am currently shut down.

someone entered my solitude space
without my permission
bringing a stranger, no less.
i don’t ask for much
just please stay out of my room.
respect my space
it’s all i have.

everything feels like it is going in fast forward, while i know that everything is actually going in half-time.

unlike many of these attacks, i saw it coming.


“No, No, No” – Yoko Ono, 31 listens


it feels wrong—and perhaps it is wrong—to gravitate towards a song written out of anger and sadness towards a dead spouse as the focus of my own petty personal problems in relation to a bully, but that’s how my mind works, and i cannot control it. i’ve never and will never feel her pain, and yet her ability to so poignantly express her feelings provides me an outlet too powerful to ignore.

these are the genuine, raw sounds of pain. these are the sounds of confusion. these are the sounds of a world screaming and the singer screaming back in the deepest primal rage.

sometimes i imagine that the world is cardboard and my words are razors, and it makes me afraid. afraid of cutting someone. afraid of offending. afraid of crossing the line,

i think i fired my therapist. Continue reading

A Stylus Stuck In The Cerebral Cortex, Part II: Waitin’ 4 The Frogs 2 Fall Down On Me (Long Strong Eyes and Deep Blue Thighs)

Hi, my name is Joseph Kyle. I am 42 years old and I write about music and art on my website, The Recoup. I have Aspergers Syndrome. As part of this,  I am affected by an issue known as stimming. It makes life different and difficult and beautiful and weird and awkward all at the same time. I wrote a piece over the summer that introduced you to my issues with stimming, and people liked it, and I’ve wanted to share another piece about it, but I just cannot sit down and write a piece about the experience; it has to come directly out of the combat experience of my daily life, and that is exactly what happened to me today. I hope you enjoy it.

Hi, my name is Joseph Kyle, and this was my afternoon……

“Frogs,” The Flaming Lips. at least 20 listens in 95 minutes 

So I’m standing at the bar of the green-sealed Sumatra Satan, eagerly awaiting my cold creamy coffee concoction,  I’m playing it cool, though, because hey, this is a public place, the server girl is extremely cute and very generous with the smiles. Then suddenly, I feel it. There’s something stinging the back of my neck, the back of my back, and straight into my heart.

I turn around and see this stinging-source, and she is beautiful, she is looking right at me, and she is smiling. And I am smiling right back. Is it because the intense therapy session I just had is putting me  a place of openness towards the inhabitants of this planet (not mine)? Is it the blood loss from a doctor’s visit earlier in the day? Or is it kismet, cupid working his magic at 3 PM in the afternoon in Tyler, Texas?

I quickly look away. We mustn’t stare, Joseph. (How do people meet one another on this planet? I’ve not the foggiest, though the Seinfeld answer of “Alcohol” sure makes sense to me.) I am elated that this beauty has even acknowledged me, period. I’m feeling chuffed, and good about myself–which never happens. 

And then the unthinkable occurs.

I hear it.

Continue reading

A Stylus Stuck In The Cerebral Cortex; Or, Being The Amour Fou Of The Spectrum Set PART I

Whenever I listen to music, I run the risk of engaging in a very painful, very frustrating, and very emotionally hellish battle. I am unable to simply listen to music. I am often drawn into a songs orbit, and if Im lucky, I can escape the tractor-beam hold it has on me.

Sometimes, though, I dont want to do that.

Sometimes, I let the song win. But I let it win with great hesitance, as I know that its hold on my soul might engulf me for longer than is necessary.

Let me clarify a point: when I saylonger than is necessary,were not talking about one repeated listen, or two, or five, or ten. Were talking hours. Were talking immense, intense listening, with me hitting PLAY automatically for an indefinite, undetermined period of time, until something inside me has had enough.

To fully comprehend the seriousness of that last paragraph, lets take a look at several examples from the past few months:


Voices Carry,by Til Tuesday. 23 listens.

Thats nearly three hours with Aimee Mann, and thats nearly three hours within the confines of an emotionally abusive relationship. Yikes!

Continue reading