Skydekkerix

Well it has been one week of not smoking and nobody really gives a fuck. This is ok. I have been spending my time working on a new routine so I can start writing again. It involves getting up at 1:30 pm, having a panic attack, eating half a pig worth of bacon, worrying about my weight and then generally feeling like a werewolf. Also it involves fighting giant monsters.

So when I haven’t had a lot of sleep and I’ve missed my pills for a couple of days in a row I get this one recurring nightmare. It always starts the same way. I wake up in the bed I am in and everything is completely normal. Except the door to the room is slightly ajar. Then I try to get out of bed. I am really clumsy and my hands are numb. This is normal for me so I keep trying.

I slide out from under the covers onto  the floor. Shit gets real. I am dragged by an invisible force towards the door which now slams open. I flip out. I wake up back in bed. After I calm down and check if I have shit myself I realise my hands are still numb. The force grabs me again and drags me towards the door. I wake up in my bed again.

Now is the time for pure panic. I try everything I can to wake myself up. First I pinch myself until it hurts. When it starts hurting I figure I have woken up so I stand. I am slammed back down into the bed again. I slam my hand onto the corner of my desk. I feel myself on the verge of waking up so I try again. My hand is stopped short just before the desk and is then forced back onto my chest. I am jerked up to a sitting position. I feel two thick tentacles rammed into my ear-holes and out of my mouth. I do the only sensible thing in this situation. I get an erection.

I start yelling now. Not screaming, yelling. Even in the depths of my darkest nightmare I am still worried about looking like a girl. So I yell like a saiyan and then something will happen. The walls melt away, leaving me floating in the dark. What happens next changes every time I have the dream. Sometimes I am transported to a barren lava plain where I watch a burning skeleton dance. Sometimes I am confronted with a giant version of my own head guarded by chainsaw-wielding versions of Thomas the Tank Engine. Sometimes I have to fire a laser out of my forehead at a giant cross between four elephants and a giant squid. This time though I am just left floating in the black.

I wake up slowly. I can tell, like every time, that this is really waking up. It is something about the air, probably that I  have to breathe it. I sit up for a second, then ease myself back down. I close my eyes and breathe. I get a text message. Without looking at who it is from I read it. It says: “This is the only reason we asked you.”

I get up. Head out the back and reach for a cigarette. Then I realise I have absolutely no craving to smoke. It is entirely gone, at least just for this morning. The end. I do not know if there is a moral. Maybe it is “Take your medication you fuck why do you even do this”.

Also I am doing a reading for my friends at Stilts for their second journal launch. Here is the link: https://www.facebook.com/events/137294676392180/ . If you are in Brisbane you should come check it out and watch me have rough chuckles.