Sleep has no home here

I’d been told to kill everyone at home. It was a clear message with its intentions stepping in my own souring mental state but it didn’t come from within me. Someone or something else had advised me to do so. This only gave more credence to the idea. Waking up to the room bathed in harsh red tones and even harsher sounds of the wind droning loudly, localized entirely in my skull.

I wasn’t really at home in my head, I came partially back to reality mid dream (I don’t dream) and then felt a small spark of murderous intent through the limited faculties I was viewing the world with at the time. I remembered where the knife was in my room. I think I was so tired I took a backseat and let whatever was giving the orders take the reins instead. I had fallen asleep flat on my back so I must have invited my sleep paralysis demon in.

As I rolled over to see the TV on in my room, the winds dissipated, I only noticed a blank screen, my room still felt lit up but there was no source. Soon after I was greeted by a pulsating old friend, in the Void on the screen. It brought with it a soft soothing drone. As it spun and grew in size it also changed from a softer colour to a sharper blue. Trying to tell me it was a friend.

After hyperventilating because the hole in my head manifested on my TV and told me to kill my friends, I had a short, cold sweat drenched, quiet moment before screaming. I’ve screamed in the middle of the night before so this was no new occurrence to the other occupants of this small flat. No one came to check on me, no one send a quick text, hopefully no one fucking heard and I can just get back to having a dialogue in peace, with whoever is telling me to kill them.

Maybe the reasoning is sound. I mean if its not I can easily dissuade myself from following through if their plan doesn’t have legs. I stood up out of my bed only to notice I still had my headphones on. Helped to explain the oppressively internal droning which was beaming into my brain. Staring out the window this late usually grounds me pretty well, like an inverse to apeirophobia, the scale helps me settle my place. This time as I peered over the ledge to the outside I caught a glimpse of the cityscape before it was swapped out, or rearranged into a darkening forest stream. Like a cheap trick, of placing a photo in front of CCTV, but this one didn’t even make sense.

It didn’t even alarm me, just mildly perturbed that I didn’t see what I expected. At least I thought this to myself, as my body recoiled in horror of this act of visual treachery. I think it blamed me for this but I wasn’t in charge of my eyes, that was his domain. As I crawl back into bed out of “fear”, I feel almost lured there, as it provides a place of normalcy from the distortions outside, the conversation then goes back to whether killing everyone is the right idea. So it was a trap to get murder back on the cards for the night.

I try to settle in facing away from the TV but I’m physically jolted back towards it by some unseen tendril. Clearly there is more to discuss. There isn’t really a whole lot to talk about or anyone to talk to, but clearly that isn’t an acceptable answer and this cognitive sideshow has to go on for my sake as I’m too pathetic to really do much besides fantasize. I ask what other worldly scenes it can procure for me. I’m just looking for more things to stress over right now rather than deal with real problem of the fucking break down of reality I’m having.

How much of this am I actually recalling from earlier in the night and experiencing now. I’m not alone in my home, in my head, and I wish to be completely done with it all. I’m trying to remedy one problem by creating another. Or I’m creating a fictitious problem to solve a real one. Is this boredom or a fucking break down. I can go on, and I will, to avoid letting anyone in. I’ll make fake conversations to fill up my skull and placate whatever small part of the brain still wants social stimulus.

I conduct these rituals far too often now. They give me both a fresh new obsession to hold dear and help me distance myself from the ones closest to me and most likely to strike. Unless I strike first.

Another offering to the hole in my head.