Sleep Crimes

I am committing one right now by being awake at 5:32 AM for no reason beyond being, inevitably, an insomniac. I guess I'm one at this point? Or perhaps it's just the wild sleep cycle I've been putting my body through has finally caught up to me.
This morning I woke up and laid in bed for a long time and listened to the new Animal Collective album for the billionth time. I watched the sunlight coming through the window disappear slowly as the time passed through each track.
It was very peaceful, but that also goes to show that my morning has now reversed itself. I wake up when the sun sets and I will probably go to sleep when it begins to rise.

I swear I swear I'm going to post art next time. I'm just too lazy to deal with getting out my sketchpad and scanning it and uploading it... It's such a hassle. I'm not cool enough to have a purely art blog. Whatever. But next time. Next time!

I had a very interesting but really frightening dream/nightmare while in the suburbs. It was on a night I actually slept before 5 AM I'm pretty sure.

It began fairly innocently. I was looking for a new house to live in next year, and I was in Mt. Airy or some suburban town near Philly. I went into a large frankenstein sort of house-- it had all different shutters and window panes. Inside it was set up sort of like a wooden playground-- you had to navigate upwards through wooden beams and ladders and past turrets. It was bizarre. There were a lot of people living in the house already; I think it was something similar to a frat house or sorority, but it had both sexes inhabiting it and the people who were actually renting it was a man who was about 40 or so and his wife. The first room I encountered was a green room. An entire wall was mostly just windows, the rest were painted green, and in the corner was a fire lit in the fireplace. There were a bunch of girls sitting at tables and lounging on couches reading. Green shrubs and cacti were sprinkled about the room.
As soon as I entered, I knew if I shut the door we would all be locked in. A girl even called out to me, "No, don't shut it!" But maybe a moment later a different girl said, "Oh, can you shut the door behind you?" And so I took a step in and shut the door behind me on command. All of the girls stood up and the room exploded in cries, "OH NO, NOW WE'LL NEVER GET OUT! WE CAN NEVER ESCAPE!" And in all of the confusion, I simply opened the door and left.
The next room was... bizarre. In every sense. I think it was bizarre to me mostly because I had visited that room in a previous dream at some point. When I approached this room, the renter guy was there next to it and said,
"No one can enter this room. Ever."
My mind flashed to when I first approached the house and saw it from the outside; all of the shutters were open save for one window. The shutters were green and closed.
I replied to him, "Yeah, I know. I've been in that room. That room is hell."
Then my mind flashed to when I was in the room before. The walls looked like this:
Except the drip was like a living creature that writhed and started to pollute the hallway as well. Everything was decaying and in disrepair. The bed had a sunken in area that was shaped like a human.
We talked to each other about the history of the house and how there had been multiple murders in it. The serial killer who had used to live there slept in that bedroom.
He said to me, "I wondered what it would be like to sleep in that room, since it's so hellish. I slept 3 nights in there before I couldn't take it anymore."
I wondered what what sort of toll the room had taken on him.
I continued to talk to him about the house; I forget what we were saying at this point, but his wife came up to his side and all of a sudden there was a barber's chair between the two of them. She helped a third man of about their same age into the chair and began prepping him to get a shave. The renter man had barber's clothes on, and we continued our conversation. The renter man put his hands on the other man's shoulders as his wife took out the shaving razor and proceeded to cut the man's throat as deeply and as roughly as possible. It was almost a sawing action, but not quite. There was no sound. In no time at all, blood was thick and dark on the man's shirt. The woman had blood running down her mouth and neck as if she had lapped it up like a dog. The renter man's barber's outfit was splattered with blood; he resembled a butcher more than a barber. They all turned towards me, their cheeks pulled back into smiles and their eyes completely white.
What was the most disturbing aspect was the flap of skin hanging down from the one man's neck. It still was spurting blood.
They continued to smile as I turned away and ran.



WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH ME.