Posts Tagged ‘Sleep-based’

Vs. Sleep

September 15 2011

As we are all aware, sleep is a pretend construct built to explain what is actually a combination ghost infection and society-wide mass delusion/pan-cultural rite.1 Yet while this is common knowledge, there has yet to be any true concerted effort to fight this oppressive regime. The murderous kleptocracy of sleep, at the altar of which the equivalent of over 2 billion2 people will be taken from us in our lifetimes, must be held culpable.

The following is an excerpt: 10 days from the diary of one very brave individual. A warrior of a kind– not the type with guns and training and impressive self-sacrifice– but a soldier in the war against the tyranny of our own false premises. And in the end, isn’t that just as heroic?3

Come. Let us learn from this shining example:


SATURDAY        August 27

2 to 3 hours slept
Cognitive function: adequate; 2 x 2 = 4; 4 x 4 = 16; 16 x 16 = well I didn’t know that to begin with
Physical function: unremarkable; rode exercise bike 10 miles in 36 minutes.

They eventually got me. : (  Had erected a defense network: entented my bed in pink and blue cellophane Easter basketwrap, as we all know holiday anticipation is their #1 weakness. But, apparently, at some point I started suffocating on it. In a fit of pro-survival panic I must have torn it all down. When I woke up my teeth was lousy with Easter grass. Will try harder tomorrow…
SUNDAY        August 28

5 hours slept
Cog: slightly daffy, but present; think I called Albert’s mom ‘Aunt Miriam’ at some point. (note: I do have an Aunt Miriam, who she does look like)
Phys: fought a couple bouts of jimmy leg, but otherwise inside normal operational parameters

They tricked me. After failure of  Easter basket bed, wore last year’s Hallowe’en costume around house at night. Unfortunately, the video game conference in town rendered my Clyde outfit technically cosplay and therefore non-holiday apparel. Sleep had its way with me and I woke up with my eyes crusted stuck to the inside of Clyde’s blue plastic peepers.


MONDAY        August 29

9 hours slept
Cog: Real good, I guess; ugh 16 x 16 = 256; 256 x 256 = 54,036 (if it’s not right I at least had the reserve confidence to assert that it was without hesitation)
Phys: I accidentally did a double backflip; like two backflips in the time it takes to jump and then land. I mean, I’m pretty sure the accident was the fault of having slept so much…

New tact: pure wallpower. Laid there on my bed, protected only by the power of my own mind, taunting Sleep. Taunt accepted.


TUESDAY        August 30

1 hour slept
Cog: like an intra-office network– generally functional with bouts of extreme slowdown. For an hour or so, vice versa.
Phys: for the first two hours I was awake, could not grip pen to write; some drool.

This time, unplanned, ended up distracting myself to the point where I didn’t even consider Sleep. Started a game of Civ 4 at 9:30. Next noticed the time at 6 in the morning. A rousing success marred only by the meagerness of the victory celebration: spiked mouse, did air six guns, a 360 (well, 1440) running man into a fell asleep on my feet. Awoke still standing up. Didn’t know that that was a thing that could happen. It can!


WEDNESDAY    August 31

net 38 minutes slept
Cog: 7 second delay. The time loss isn’t so bad as much as trying to parse the echoes. Bonus: no cusses.
Phys: a lot of trips and stumbles; 11,000% increase in pratfalls.

Distraction worked so well last time. Thought to do it again but started nodding off in 1-15 second snaps. As in my head would fall and then snap right back. Pressed through, though. Made it through the night having only head-bobbed 217 times.

It is possible, though unproven, that all these head-bobs may have (perhaps) created a lag or skip in my consciousness leading to the 7 second delay experienced throughout the day.


THURSDAY        September 1

0 hours
Cog: 7 second prelay. I can see into the future, but only 7 seconds. Just enough time to feel bad about what is to happen and to gird myself, dodge.
Phys: after adjusting, the smoothest moves this ex has ever laxed.

The problem with distracting yourself is that you know that you are doing it and are therefore hyper-acutely aware of every action you take I tried so hard and became so minutely in tune with every part of every process occurring in my body and in the world around me that – at some point – I ‘flipped the swing’ becoming so undistracted as to first transcend all external stimuli and then ‘swung back’ landing in front of all that happens and now seven seconds in the future I was able to leverage my foreknowledge to effortlessly outstep every molecule of Sleep they had no prayer


FRIDAY        September 2

0 hours
Cog: only produced false memories
Phys: gained powers of flight, an unquenchable thickness.

You guys! I met the most perfect girl. Her name is The Brunette and she also likes the bottom of the sea. I’ve not seen her face, no matter how many times I try to turn her around, but if it matches the rest of her body it must be incredible, delicious.


SATURDAY        September 3

0 hours
Cog: could not distinguish between our thoughts and the thoughts of others; after an hour, notion of Self ceased to have meaning; you see loss of one subjectivity, we see gain of 6+ billion subjectivities.
Phys: acted as instrument of the collective whim; got hit by a car making dinner for a Paraguayan family of eight.

The burner would not light because the stove was actually a stormdrain.


SUNDAY        September 4

Cog: I have mastered the Sleep; I now dream waking.
Phys: upon contact, the Sleep explode, expose their ghosts for my control

I am the Dreamchief. As dreams are the exploding ghosts of Sleep releasing their unborn thoughts, my absolute mastery of Sleep has translated into a corresponding   flawless calligraphy with dreams. My penmanship is unparalleled. To forge your haunted past, to ink your most intimate desires, to … typeset, I. I’m the DREAMchief, not the prose captain. Now kneel before me and I will allow you to make recreational with [Ellen Page] AND let you in-dream finish.

No pre-coital wake-ups, no desperate bids to sleep perchance to return to the exact same dream you were having when you’re pals with the Dreamchief.


THURSDAY        Thursday

Cog: N/A
Phys: Thursday

Where I am it is Thursday Now. Was Thursday now will be Thursday, where I am.



2. 1/3 of your life spent sleeping times over 6 billion lives on Earth
3. Probably not.



September 12 2011

A. I can’t fall asleep
A. I can’t fall asleep
B. unngh. Ghwuh, I. What?
A. I can’t fall asleep
B. Yes you can.
A. No, I can’t.
B. Prove it.
A. I am.
B. Sure, you’re awake now. But in six hours…
A. Six? That’s not fair.
B. You said you can’t fall asleep
A. I mean, can’t right now. Not can’t ever.
B. So what’s the problem then.
A. I can’t fall asleep.
B. … so, half hour? An hour?
A. I don’t know. There’s no way to tell.
B. Except you definitely know that it’s not six hours.
A. I’m not going to just lie here sleepless for six hours. If it gets to that point I’ll just give up.
B. Also in six hours you’ll have to have been at work for… 40 minutes or so.
A. Shit. Really?
B. Yeah.
A. Ugh.
B. So why not try and see if you can squeeze 4 hours out of it.
A. … I have been trying.
B. Well, try…
A. Are you going to finish that sentence or did you think better of it.
B. Thought better. But, seriously though.
A. What then. What is it that I should do.
B. Huh.
A. What are your best secret sleep strategies to help me conk right out
B. Hm. I always just fall asleep on my own. It’s really easy for me.
A. That’s not helping.
B. I know. It’s just. I don’t really have anything helpful to offer here.
B. Maybe, count sheep?
A. That doesn’t work.
B. Did you try it?
A. No. B-
B. Well, you can’t know unti
A. But I’ve tried in the past. On Christmas Eves. Or on the nights before we’d go to Water Country or Disney World. I’d get to the forties or fifties before the mental image would break down, become meaningless.
B. You were as excited for Water Country as Disney World?
A. Probably moreso.
B. You’re a weird kid you know that?
A. We didn’t have a pool!
B. Yeah. Well you also didn’t have a Teacups. Or a Thunder Mountain. Or a entire canon of costumed Disney characters.
A. …I like waterslides.
B. Aw.
A. What.
B. Weird kid.
A. If liking waterslides is weird then you are sleeping with but not asleep with the Crispin Glover of kids.
B. Weird. kid.
A. Don’t drift off on me!
B. Can’t. help it.
A. I’ve got ways.
B. No. I’m all. wore. out.
A. Not sex ways, sicko. I just mean I can keep waking you up each time you fall asleep.
A. Like with pinches. Or shaking. Or frenching.
A. Hey. HEY.
B. No.o.o.
A. You can’t sleep until I can sleep.
B. That’s not. acceptable.
A. You don’t have a choice. I’m your own private Guantanamo.
B. Bo.o. Atti. ca.
A. Count yourself lucky that it’s just deprivation and not angry dogs and hot fuck stacks.
B. Hot. fuck stacks?
A. Those nude pyramids
B. Ugh. Not cool.
A. I’m not the one who did them.  Take it up with Lynnie England, and just Lynnie England, and maybe a couple other bad apples, but nobody else.
B. No.o.o. Too late. for. politics.
A. And even if you definitely could take it up with a bunch of otherbody elses, we have to look forward, not backwards. Past is done. Punishing people isn’t going to change what’s already happened. Why bother? Except terrorists. And protestors.
B. I’m not a terrorist. Can I go to sleep please?
A. Don’t care. No.
B. Ugh.
A. Hug.
B. Is … this a stress position?
A. Just hugging on you. To keep you awake
B. I don’t think. It’s.
A. I just have to squeeze a little.
B. Wrrrk.
A. Aw. I squeezed a li’l ‘wrrk’ outta you.
B. Wark.
A. Hm. It’s not as good when it’s from concentration.
B. Wrrrrrk
A. Mm. Fresh squoze.
B. Stop. You’re making me hungry.
A. Maybe we should go to Denny’s.
B. No-o. To sleep. We should go to. sleep.
A. I can’t fall asleep.
B. Go to sleep.
A. I can’t.
B. If. you can’t. fall asleep. maybe you can. maybe I. I.
A. Hey
B. Mm?
B. nn.
A. Don’t make me pack you in an ice casket.
B. z.
A. Ugh. *shake*
B. Nnn.
A. ever forget my inability to sleep.
B. Serious. stop.
A. Just. I think I can get there. I , need your help though.
B. No you don’t. Just. do for yourself. what you.
A. Hey.
B. Yeah?
A. Please?
B. ok.
A. Finally.
A. I mean, thank you.
B. Yeah. well.
A. I just need you to talk me through it. I know it will work if you just, talk me throughit.
B. Ok. Well. You’re getting sleepy.
A. Not like a hypnotist.
B. Like what then?
A. I don’t know. Just , normal.
B. I don’t think. I’m capable of. of that. now.
A. But with a story. With a drift to it , that I can follow to sleep.
B. Like a lazy. river.
A. Yeah! Exactly like a stupid lazy river.
B. And this bed. is your. water. country.
A. I actually did fall asleep on one of those once.
B. You’ve excaped Guantanamo. You’ve.
A. At Water Country, even.
B. You’ve made it. to the , past Cuba. To , some own. private. spot.
A. It was towards the end of the day and I was young-ish, like 8 or 10,
B. all the sand is white. there.
A. and I must have been tired out
B. No. Black.
A. so about a quarter mile in the tube left the shade for the sun
B. It’s a lake now. In , New Hampshire.
A. and I had to close my eyes just to , block it.
B. Or, I guess. A river.
A. and I could still see the sun behind my eyelids, though
B. And you get in. your tube. and you start to. just. drift. out
A. it was just the color red , and sometimes pulses of neon green or red
B. The lake. or the river. takes your tube like a ride but there. isn’t one.
A. So I close them tighter, and tighter until , it doesn’t help. So I turn over
B. You’re just , at the , mercy. Of it. Of the river.
A. Not flip. Just. A sleeping position.
B. Or the lake.
A. And I fall asleep.
B. Time is also not certain.
A. It’s not deep , but it’s not shallow.
B. Later. you’re so much further down the river.
A. A sleep I can remember sleeping.
B. But other laters. not so. much.
A. Maybe I wasn’t even asleep.
B. At some point. there aren’t banks anymore.
A. Just tired. relaxing. content.
B. The river. the lake. opens up.
A. Not either. all of them.
B. The sun. it’s not in the sky anymore. but. it’s not dark.
A. The lazy river winds me around itself. I must do six laps.
B. the light doesn’t come from anywhere. but.
A. My parents , so scared. When I wake up
B. you can still. see . all of it.
A. I wake up to my name repeated. over and over.
B. You’re somewhere you’ve not ever been. Not on , the lake.
A. Over the loudspeaker. I recognize it.
B. Somewhere else. somewhere.
A. but by now. they’ve found me.
A. More angry than afraid.
A. Almost had it.

Iterations (pt 2 (pt 1))

February 10 2010


Do you like it when I kiss you here? [kiss]


How about here [kiss]?

Wait. No. Why?


Why do you need to know?


Is this some kind of ploy?

[kiss, kiss]

What are you planning?

All sorts of plans [kiss]

Am I just research for your masters degree in erotic cartography?

[kiss] Doctorate [kiss]

Are these kisses some kind of amorousness morse code?

[robot voice] M-O-S-T D-E-F-I-N-I-T-E-L-Y [arms robot slightly, kiss]

Are you collecting market research?

What market would that be?

The… getting-ki[kiss]shhd ahn[unkiss] market.

Oh, well–[kiss]– you found me out.

I knew it.

I’m a secret plant for Big Affection [face on hand on elbow, looking]

[girds self with balled hands up-pulling covers (slightly)]

My mission was to find out what revs the engines of {variable} females age 25-25 who live in {variable} and like to date {his own name}

Mission Accomplished, I guess [the ol’ pout and turn]

[wait 11 seconds then the sound of kissing]


Do you like it when I kiss you here? [on the back]

It’s ok, I guess.

[the scritch of pen-to-pad] How about here?1


My Dream Vending Machine

October 26 2009

My Dream Vending Machine


A1: Oatmeal Cream Pie (large)

A2: Gummi Bears

A3: Apple Fritter

A4: A perfectly ripened Plum

A5: Cadbury Cream Egg



B1: Nerds Rope

B2: Pistachios (pre-shelled, lightly peppered)

B3: A Snake that smells like my Dad’s Hands

B4: The feeling of tightly-packed Sand beneath my Fingernails

B5: Fried Dough



C1: A series of Invisible Trains that stalk the corridors of A Maze that there is No Way Out Of

C2: Candy Buttons

C3: M&Ms (Peanut)

C4: Falling

C5: Falling as a Direct Result of Explicitly Trying Not to Fall



D1: Circus Peanuts

D2: Circus Tickets by which the Clowns find a way into your Home (at night)

D3: Avocado & Chips

D4: The Police Car from Dr. Leong’s Waiting Room

D5: The Credits from Highway to Heaven ad infinitum / Dried Papaya (alternating)



E1: It’s my Junior High mashed-up with my High School, and I can’t remember (for the life of me) Which Period Is What Class nor Where That Class Could (for the life of me) Be

E2: Gym takes place on the Bank of a Particularly Brackish River and the Locker Room is only 6 Feet Tall (Slanting Down) but, spotted with Latch-Broken Chemical Toilet Stalls, stretches for some long forever.

E3: Grape or Banana Laffy Taffy (alternating)

E4: Your mouth forming Words in my Ear that I for-some-reason Can’t Understand; no tears, but in your eyes you are crying

E5: Butter Finger



F1: I am Crying, Begging my parents Not To Get Divorced; they have no idea what I am talking about But Agree To Stay Together Anyways

F2: Crocodile in the House!

F3: Did I Actually Kill Someone In Real Life? I wake up multiple times (in the dream) to find that I have in fact and that this is not a dream and that my life is irrevocably changed as a result of my Action

F4: Delicious Cape Cod Chips

F5: Peeing (on Accident)



G1: Peeing (on Purpose)

G2: You Fucking Somebody Else

G3: General Facelesness

G4: Lion in the House!

G5: Shark Bites / Gushers (alternating)



H1: Wint-o-Green Lifesavers

H2: Wint-o-Green Lifesavers (partially unwrapped)

H3: Wint-o-Green Lifesavers (that smell like my dad’s hands, pocket)

H4: Animal Crackers

H5: The Things We Did And Didn’t Do

H6: Lifesavers Classic 5-Color Roll

H7: The Synaesthetic Conflation of the Feeling of Winding my Childhood Music Box and its  Stuttered Strains of “You Are My Sunshine”/Wint-o-Green Lifesavers (alternating)

How We’re Rebelling Against “Finity”

September 28 2009

How We’re Rebelling Against Finity

Pre-empting the eventual degeneration of flesh by extreme scarification, hell of body mods

Making the best of no opportunities, forsaking all chances– keeps you unbound to any kind of ‘path’, therefore free

Bowin’ the shit out of the ol’ wrist fiddle

Split personalities

Cosplaying Borges

Shrinking down bulky, generator-sized perpetual motion machine into something the size, shape, and function of a pacemaker

Killing ghosts

Re-creating, in intricate detail, the same moment over and over. If dependent on outside collaboration, participants may be supplanted contingent on deference to protocol, fungibility;1 if reliant on irreducibly unique ephemera, try real hard to pretend it still feels right2

Speaking in a cropped vernacular – deploy a limited number of sentences, exclamations, and observations in canned response to all prompts; through chance, re-embark upon– through no will of your own– the same conversation-halves over and over

By traveling half then half then half then half then half then half then halfway to a onehundredtwentyeightway/Zeno’s Paradox? More like Zeno’s Pair-of-Cocks!

Vicious polygamy! Just really aggressive about keeping multiple w/lives, refuse to “Cool It Down”3

4 of Clubs of all trades, Jack of none

Don’t sleep. Nod, dirft slightly, snap back up; you’re awake now: don’t sleep. Nod, drift slightly, snap back up; you’re awake now: don’t sleep. Nod, drift slightly, snap back up; you’re awake now:

Make Multiplicity come to life: have Michael Keaton bang your wife4



1See “Vertigo”

2See “All Long Term Relationships/Love In General”

3But I require W-L-O-V-E to W-L-I-V-E!

4Why wasn’t this a sonnet?

When Can I Sleep?

September 24 2009

When Can I Go To Sleep?

*  Per hokey poet’s exhortations, not for another few miles or so.1

*  In five second snatches throughout the day. Cache it up!2

*  Can’t: still have ladies to skeeve out by having my half-drawn eyes incidentally fix on them while, on the bus, my body/brain goes limp, tongue juts out.3

*  Can’t: there’s an urethral blockage– originating in the seminal vesicles– that needs clearing before I can do so. Vigorous Clearing.4

*  Can’t: have yet to give you everything I’ve got for a piece of mind.5

*  Not until I clean the bathroom. Ammonia + Bleach FT(F,A)N!6

*  Not until I track down my wife’s killer. And get married. And my wife dies. (Of murder).7

*  Not until I tell them what they want to hear.8

*  Not sure– playing chicken with a fistful of pre-2006 NyQuil to find out.9

*  After and only After eating/drinking 1/3 of my paycheck.10

*  After the world explodes, crumbles, and I’m lying there in your arms, zygoma-to-ulna.11

*  Concussion joke.12

*  Not until I throw this spaghetti at a wall that doesn’t exist, has no taste for spaghetti.13

*  Only after and not until I’m frozen solid in a stupid hedge maze, the monstrous manifestation of alcoholism slayed, stayed– no risk of hangover, breath.14





1Eight, I think.

2Kirk Cameron + Tennis Shoes style.

3Like a kitten cat (that got misinterpreted as a pervert).


5A little smidgen, even. Ripping off Top Cat, you see.

6For The (Forced, Accidental) Nap!

7Not necessarily in that order.

8Couldn’t they just not torture and (just) dash off some forged warrants?

9Face down in the couch listening to And Then Nothing Turned Itself Inside Out, waiting to see if I’ll wake up.

10That is eating 100% and drinking 300%.

11Unfortunately, it seems my ability to sleep is mostly dependent on recreating fictional scenes, dying.

12Not until I’ve got 500 words, sequitur or otherwise.

13And the spaghetti is undercooked, anyways.

14In the book they were topiary, and the house blew up, and the dad looked more like Steven Weber than Jack Nicholson. Meh.