Crazy backward alphabet dreams aren't allowing for much restful sleep.
I shuffle outside and onto the porch steps at about 6 AM, half-asleep-walking, I'm not aware of what's going on. I drift in and out. Sometimes my legs kick out spasmodically, a fucking riverdance to nowhere. I can't quite keep my head from flopping side to side, freakish and voodoo-like.
Trying to sneak out of the dreamwalking I drag it behind me into the light of day. Dream toiletpaper stuck to my dreamshoe. I see visions, places I've never been, I have ridiculous conferences with useless friends I never want to see again. If you should die inside your dream, it's still just a dream. But if you have to go real bad, the stars explode and no one leaves you alone. No justice, no peace, no time to drop trou in relief.
I stopped trying to figure it out. My mouth is so goddam dry, why don't I creep to the refrigerator and pour myself a cold drink instead? Some part of my mind is betraying me. Brains best get with the program. Conscience, stay out of my room. Revenge. The hemispheres must be put in their place.
I heard this funny rumor about a girl who had too much to drink and confessed out loud that fucking is the only way she knows she's alive, then she became hysterical and knocked all the booze off the table. How absurd! I know I'm alive because I'm dreaming the world into existence.
I shuffle outside and onto the porch steps at about 6 AM, half-asleep-walking, I'm not aware of what's going on. I drift in and out. Sometimes my legs kick out spasmodically, a fucking riverdance to nowhere. I can't quite keep my head from flopping side to side, freakish and voodoo-like.
Trying to sneak out of the dreamwalking I drag it behind me into the light of day. Dream toiletpaper stuck to my dreamshoe. I see visions, places I've never been, I have ridiculous conferences with useless friends I never want to see again. If you should die inside your dream, it's still just a dream. But if you have to go real bad, the stars explode and no one leaves you alone. No justice, no peace, no time to drop trou in relief.
I stopped trying to figure it out. My mouth is so goddam dry, why don't I creep to the refrigerator and pour myself a cold drink instead? Some part of my mind is betraying me. Brains best get with the program. Conscience, stay out of my room. Revenge. The hemispheres must be put in their place.
I heard this funny rumor about a girl who had too much to drink and confessed out loud that fucking is the only way she knows she's alive, then she became hysterical and knocked all the booze off the table. How absurd! I know I'm alive because I'm dreaming the world into existence.