and me, i can't stop sleeping, easing into strange dreams, movement, waking up wandering mission control, i watch some late night infomercial on a new mathematics program that can make your children mindless automatons who know all about numbers and yet have the personality of a vacuum cleaner. i moan silently, is this the fucking future. anyways late night tv is insulting me so i switch it of return to my book, a story about a time machine repair man, set in perth, it's not bad, not good, i'm indifferent to the whole thing. i eventually return to my dream where things are never as they seem, i don't recall it now, there were a lot of people in it, lots of movement and energy. i get up early and haunt the small sleepy town, looking for a hot drink that is not coffee or tea i settle on a hot chocolate, read the newspapers, walk the dog, we end up back at mission control where i close my eyes and fall asleep again. sleep sleep sleep, there's to much sleep in my life, my dreams are better than my waking life, which is just work work work, my head hurts, my body is storing fat again, perhaps it knows something i don't. i see the internet is filled with end game scenario's. we all know where its headed, seems like little point in waking up sometimes.