this upped dosage has me shakin'

that's right, like eddie money.

i'm in a hostile sleeping situation this week.

i'm in bed, staring at the ceiling and the glow from the bar out my back window. thinking about songs that pop into my head and the words and what they mean and what the writer was thinking about when the words flew out onto paper or a cocktail napkin or onto the wall in the crayola color burnt sienna.

and then i toss.

and then i get really bored. so i open the lap top. and wish for something to happen. there is a world happening. and i am in my bed. watching the clock. wishing for a knock on the door or the phone to ring or maybe wishing for nothingness. blankness so that i can go to sleep. i have to work early. but there's still time to sleep if my brain would shut it's big fat mouth and decide it's time for sleeping.

what the hell's the name of that velvet underground song that i love that talks about 10 gallon girls. and why can't i think of the song or the obvious name.

pisser

and my face feels a little like there is clay on it. from washing it. and my toothpaste tastes a little bad. and it's probably a good thing that there is no one kissing me goodnight because maybe they would think it tastes yucky too and then i'd feel silly like "i just brushed them!"

and then i wish that my room was clean. groaroaoroaroaoroaroaroaoroaroaroar why didn't i clean it tonight, i didn't even go out. i watched crappy television and read this nabokov story that made me want to hurl the book across the room. and smoked cigarettes that make my lungs hurt and didn't drink enough water.

why didn't i clean

this place is a pig sty.

and what the fuck is all of that random product on my dresser for. i hate hair care products. i never use them. i collect them so that i can pretend that i have glamourous pampered tresses instead of boring brown hair. and there is so much perfume and powder and mustella wipes because they smell like babies and i like to blow my nose with them.


one voice is clear above the din.


dammit.

why can't i sleep.