what_woke_you_up_this_morning shadow le crowl the sun? what kind of sun? angry? kind? what clothes did you put on? why? 030814 ... chiidi a kitten attacking my fingers and toes woke me up stlll some time before sunrise i'll wear black today to fit in with the storm-clouds rolling above the city and through my head 030814 ... Arwyn my puppy crying outside my door cause she missed me.... I got up and now she's ignoring me... lol 030814 ... nomme the sense it was closer than ever 030814 ... amy the summer sun in Seattle is almost always gentle. it does not in fact rain all the time. it's a silk shirt from England today. it has a weird aristocratic pattern on it. i often wonder what it is about this shirt that appeals to me, now that i think about it. it's yet another mystery. 030814 ... Freak the phone ringing 030814 ... jane the phone ringing my father yelling at me about some nonsense like he used to when i was twelve 030821 ... mandy andrew's alarm clock 030821 ... nomme noise 030821 ... monolith any of you happy to wake up in the morning? the birds singing their song , the call of the new day , my lil cousin waking me up cuz he has to go to the loo .... 030822 ... lotuseater i really had to pee 030823 ... Anna_Began Disappointment. 030823 ... mimisa Oblivion slowly turning into how wrong all of yesterday was. 030823 ... nomme rain and thunder 030823 ... pobodys nerfect Autumnal-like air forcing itself inside my room like a very unwelcomed guest, then feeling its frosty fingers creep slowly down my neck. Almost time to start using the "breathing hole" again. 030823 ... een stom kind church bells ringing 030825 ... miasma my mother, because she felt like having a chat and was getting tired of waiting for me to wake up on my own accord...i do so love that woman. 030825 ... mcdougall It was a combination of sun and noise. First, it was the sun coming through the sliding glass door, which faces the east and catches the light of the rising sun perfectly. I purposely left the blinds to the door open last night so the sun would awaken me. The second was an unpredicted noise coming from the parking lot outside the apartment. There were people outside packing their car, getting ready to go on a vacation of which they will not return until after Labor Day. Now, I do not know which played the biggest role in waking me up, but if I had to guess I would say the noise woke me up and the light kept me awake. 030827 ... misstree sunlight tickled my nose... i shifted, becoming barely aware enough to realize my alarm clock hadn't blared orders and good mornings... took a moment to drink down some soothing water before running out the door to be two hours late. 030827 ... lotuseater my mom telling me my cat died. i loved you silly kitty. 030827 ... bijou boyfriend's hangover breath. ew. 030828 ... Bespeckled The sun. When I'm in school, my alarm clock wakes me up in the morning. But when I'm not in school, the sun wakes me up. My window is in its direct path every morning, and every morning it's heat and light wake me up much earlier than I'm ready to arise. So every morning I pull down my shade, turn on my fan, and fall back into bed. But I don't really fall asleep completely. 030828 ... nom angry brother snow plow boot throwing yelling swearing cold morning i feel sick now 031129 ... DammitJanet David crawling back into bed, after my starfishing drove him out. 031130 ... belly fire panic a silent alarm clock he was not there to ground me 031203 ... misstree i drifted up aware of the sun trumpeting noon on a busy world outside and three sets of breath, slight shifting from the stragglers arranged in my nest and warmth of flesh behind me, a subtle gravity and the next day calling, a rise to an echo of revelry that will send streamers through the rest of my dayweekmonthyear 031203 ... jane isabel's jumping jacks 050116 ... (z) (inevitability) 050117 ... () (the momentary crisis of the chronometer) 050118 ... thunderbuck ram I have to confess it was a bit of a stiffy. 050118 ... thunderbuck ram but I only needed to pee. What a disappointment 050118 ... cocoon the alarm clock as usual. 050118 ... birdmad tag-team kitty freak out over the sound of some other animal (likely a cat) running across my rooftop 050118 ... suicidalchinadoll the telephone... I didn't answer it..but it brought to light how deep a sleep is required to bring about thoughts of you.. and thoughts of you holding me someone once said that your sleeping self is always just behind the state of mind, your awake self has progressed to. .. doesn't mean I don't miss you in my bed but talking to you in life is so much more difficult than dreaming you back into my arms. fly away..just fly 050118 ... mon uow a neighbour i'd never met before, he needed to borrow a ladder 050407 ... megan my mom and a hot shower and going back to bed, even if only for those 10 minutes i had extra high school needs to be over i pulled on a tshirt and jeans and headed out 050407 ... flux knowledge that the dream had ended. that i was analyzing it, and that i was still asleep. 050408 ... somenom pain pain and more pain 050524 ... Lemon_Soda Not my alarm clock, but my land lady, and hour late. Wich made me late for work. And when I got there, there was 2 pages of complaints and inquiries for me to take care in half the time it takes me to do the job regularly. Boy, it was an adventure. I took care of it though. Yay proffessional! 050525 ... iNsEcUrE_GoTh_GiRl my english revision. damn exams, who needs them? my friend got woken up by the bear shitting in the woods. i'm sat here laughing like a freak in a computer room in a library, with someone else in the same room. people know that i'm a freak now. well it's about time they knew anyway. 050525 ... skinny bland consciousness, the black sun encroaching like a giant turd. 050526 ... somenom i was talking outloud, it woke me up 050526 ... jennifer very very scary nightmare about beating the kids I hated in gradeschool with a baseball bat actually... it wasn't that scary 050527 ... Sonya Tears streaming down my face. I had a dream.. a dream that seemed so beautiful but in the end it was only a dream. I can't figure out if it was from a memory or just my subconscious screaming at me what I really want in my life, but can't have because of emotional fuck-ups. "I can't take my eyes off of you." I turned to my makeshift nightstand only to stare into the beady little eyes of a brown, plush hippo. I wanted to throw him across the room, but I stopped myself. He deserved better than that. I laid in bed for a good hour and just let it all pour out. I can only describe the feeling as that of a wet towel that has been wrung out and hung out to dry in the wind without a second thought. I showered and preened but still felt unalive. I put on my sky blue winter fairy shirt and my carpenter jeans. I brush my black hair and put on my glasses. "You don't dress like a girl." I can't run from you. You are everywhere. Your words scream at me in the darkness. I woke up to the painful memory of you and your horrific words. Are you happy now? Are you?? 050527 ... peyton tell your friends not to think out loud until they swallow whisper things into my brain you always sound so hollow i am not a leader of men since i prefer to follow do you think i could have a drink since it's so hard to swallow yeah so hard to swallow till you're dead, the vision aloft and i will say that's all and if you suddenly have the urge you can sing along i touch your hand, touch your face i think the fruit is rotten give me glasses, i have to breathe cause i think i've forgotten yeah think i've forgotten one drink after class that over looks the water i am dreamin seaman's girl it was somebody's daughter now the rain thats on my head was given to me by her and to this dream we all sit around and dream of ways to get higher yeah to get much higher tell your friends not to think out loud until they swallow whisper things into my brain you always sound so hollow i am not a leader of men since i prefer to follow do you think i could have a drink since it's so hard to swallow yeah so hard to swallow 050529 ... unhinged my cousin's autistic baby babbling away so someone would come and get him out of the crib. little ethan is over two and still doesn't talk. just that baby babble that he should have been doing over a year ago and just started. that poor precious adorable little baby. and i eventually peeked out from under the covers and he was peering at me through the slats in his crib trying not to smile. 'i see you smiling at me ethan' and then he let the smile escape and giggled. there are so many little babies in my family these days. what do i need one of my own for? screw that. 050529 ... () (the inimical pull of commerce) 050920 ... mcdougall something unknown, which i'm greatful for because i didn't set my alarm last night 050921 ... nom) i haven't gone to sleep yet! 050921 ... nom this afternoon my dad vacuuming dragging furniture etcetera etcetera etc. 060812 ... nom the jehovah's witnesses and a headache 061219 ... birdmad a three-part combination of Tonya in kitty-freakout mode knocking some change off the top of the fridge, the TV timer bringing the first news of the morning into my apartment and the sudden need to return the deposit on the pint of grape kool-aid i downed before going to bed 061219 ... pete first, a bladder needing emptying then, an alarm on a clock finally, a bladder needing refilling 061220 ... nom my mom calling me at 10 to tell me my brother made it through the night 070315 ... misstree nothing more than being completely rested. i was still curled exactly up to a perfectly temperatured cuddlebuddy, with even the one-person blanket still snugly around us, and indirect light of chrismas tree and shaded sun gently illuming the morningafternoon around me. i fairly bounced upon waking. i'm not the bouncing type, not for an hour at least. it was a good day. 070316 ... tessa chris on the phone "Good morning, sorry to wake you. Do you happen to know what the security code is?" alarm shrieking in the background he got woken up by the bean his unborn baby they're going to call it Ava 070316 ... . that silly man over there... his name is Shaker. 070316 ... nom my sister on the phone wanting to come over,... 070316 ... raze a ringing phone and a low-pitched moan. 130523 ... raze someone hammering something. bang. bang. bang. 130524 ... Norm Nothing. 130524 ... raze a centipede crawling across the ceiling. or maybe i was just seeing things in the half-sleep haze. i'm still not sure. 130618 ... raze the sound of manic pounding on the door. but no one was there. 130627 ... unhinged my biological clock every morning around 7am rain or shine when did that happen? 130627 ... e_o_i Remembering that I have to tutor online at 10 (it's 9 now). But I stayed in bed. Then, I thought if I could get up early (as if 8:30 is early) I'd be able to finish a cover letter for this secretary-type job I'm applying for before I had to tutor (I can't count on the editing job - all the manager said was that it'd be available in July). I stayed in bed. Then I thought I could write to fanfiction.net and ask them to pretty please include Ulysses in their book category - all I need, I think, is a decent list of characters. And at that idea, I got out of bed. I need better goals in life. 130629 ... e_o_i Technically, I was already awake. But I was still in bed at quarter to 8, listening to other people walking around and the mumbling sound of the kitchen radio, when I heard my father say that Alice Munro had won the Nobel Prize for literature. At that I bounced out of bed and ran into the kitchen, saying that was cool, not so much because she's Canadian but because she writes short stories and the prize more often goes to novelists. More thoughts: I'm not in the Margaret-Atwood-is-Overrated club, but I do like her stories better than her novels. Oh yeah, and if any other Canaduckians are awarded LitNobelity, I nominate her to be next. Already fairly high-profile and all. But Alice Munro is a nice surprise. On the radio, her voice sounds like my grandmother's. (Ironically, the American one, and both grandmothers are dead now, but yeah.) 131010 ... unhinged my roommate getting ready for work 131011 ... jane the cold. all of my bedding is in bags... 131011 ... raze someone screaming at someone else outside. the only part i could make out clearly was, "remind me never to call you again!" the morning after a one_night_stand gone bad, maybe? 140416 ... raze dogs doing their six a.m. woof woof business. 140512 ... raze the air conditioner making low factory sounds. vommm, vommm, vommm. 140513 ... past the devil's own car alarms 140513 ... raze another bird_before_the_sun. 140514 ... raze a considerate neighbour and some of his friends bashing his house repeatedly, blasting music, hooting and hollering, ripping shingles off the roof and tossing them to the ground, supposedly because of bats in the attic. i haven't seen any bats. at first it sounded like they were hitting a bunch of refrigerators with sledgehammers. loud music and arhythmic banging when it's barely light enough to see … the breakfast of champions. i get the funny feeling they just got drunk early in the morning and thought they'd pretend to be roofers. at least one of them's a madonna fan. that's better than katy perry, anyway. 140916 ... raze the same train whistle that sang me awake yesterday. this time i let it sing me back to sleep. 211102 ... raze the hum and crunch of garbage being collected. 211103 ... kerry anxiety. 211103 ... raze the train whistle. again. after keeping me from sleep around midnight. again. after blowing and blowing in three-minute increments for two hours straight after dinner. again. again. again. again. again. again. again. again. again. again. 211201 ... raze (i meant intervals. not increments. i eat popsicles. not instruments. i jump vestibules. that's ignorant.) 211201 ... kerry the sound of my dog’s ears flapping as he shakes his head. 211201 ... tender_square a dream about a snow storm that had yet to hit; outside all the snow had melted, leaving scores of sopping leaves like discarded hand towels. 211202 ... Soma my cat's asshole. Why does he wake me up like this on days I desperately need to sleep in? Some intuition to make me suffer, the little devil. 211202 ... raze the howling of the wind. 211216 ... tender_square michael snoring, directly in my face. loudly. at 4 am. 211217 ... raze rain that couldn't decide what it wanted to be. 211225 ... raze the sound of sound leaving me. 211226 ... raze a single word spoken by a voice i didn't recognize: "you." 211230 ... kerry dr. silver 211230 ... raze the hissing of an angry toilet tank. 220115 ... tender_square a throat rubbed with sandpaper. 220115 ... raze my bladder and my brain. 220203 ... e_o_i A fake awakening, in which I stared at the ceiling and conjured up wallpaper in the pattern of rocks. When two of those rocks turned into animated dancing lobsters, I freaked out (what's wrong with me? I don't usually hallucinate!) and then woke up for real. The ceiling above me didn't change colours or shapes, except to display the moving-dot illusion that's part of normal vision. And then, my mind determined to be contrary, I registered brief disappointment. 220203 ... raze a siren too tired to explain itself. 220204 ... tender_square my body sweating beneath sheets. 220204 ... tender_square aural hallucinations of children calling and crows cawing beyond my basement window at 3 am. 220207 ... raze a familiar voice saying goodbye. 220209 ... raze one little bird singing its heart out. 220212 ... raze a revving engine. 220215 ... raze that same little bird again. 220216 ... tender_square my internal alarm clock, waking me ten minutes ahead of schedule. 220216 ... raze the relative absence of what was expected to fall from the sky. 220217 ... past a forgotten silent alarm that's apparently been buzzing unattended an hour and a half before the actual alarm since the new year. 220217 ... tender_square the immobility of sleep paralysis turning my bones to bags of sand, my voice to a windless reed. 220219 ... raze the aftermath of a not_so_silent_night. 220219 ... raze the wind being a belligerent bastard. 220220 ... e_o_i My hand, which still smelled like garlic. That's what I get for cooking. 220220 ... e_o_i A reminder from my mind: "Exam: remember the k's and g's with w sounds. Centum and satem stuff. Look that up." A whimper from Shiloh. Near 7 AM, yipping from the same. Y. got up and took him outside to do his business. I was glad my room was upstairs instead of downstairs. The alarm. I turned it off and went back to sleep until 10, sluggish with mental weight. 220221 ... raze raindrops dancing on my skylight window. 220222 ... Bizzar not my alarm. oops. it's a good thing my tiny chaos goblin is an early riser. 220222 ... not not double negative nr the answer to this is rarely ever not my bladder 220222 ... tender_square i thought i’d woke by my own volition, but when i removed my earplugs and the furnace stopped running, i realized my alarm had been sounding on the lowest possible setting. 220222 ... raze what kerry said. (anxiety.) 220225 ... e_o_i I woke up at 7:30 when my alarm was set for 8:15, worried, but why? Ukraine? Sanskrit? Wanting to write in my journal? A desire to shift my sleep schedule to be less of a night_owl after the break? (I don't think so, it wasn't premeditated) 220225 ... sins of syntax (my alarm clock was worried, clearly) 220225 ... sems of semantics actually, the alarm clock was a phone 220225 ... kerry my neighbor revving his vintage motorcycle practically under my window it was 8:30 so, okay, but i was enjoying my dream. 220302 ... raze a recycling truck doing its business across_the_street. 220303 ... tender_square water in the sump pump well filling gradually and steadily, before being ceremoniously carried off into the storm drain. 220307 ... raze a conclave of blue jays screaming something brilliant, curving call into song. 220309 ... raze a robin chirping, "the sun is here. the sun is here. hey. hey. open your eyes. the sun is here." 220310 ... raze a lone member of the dogchestra, shouting into the void. 220311 ... raze the sleepy city's morning_breath. 220312 ... raze daylight_savings_time making a mockery of every clock not advanced enough to accommodate its arrogance without human intervention. 220313 ... raze love. 220329 ... raze sleet. 220330 ... raze the wind getting carried away again. 220331 ... tender_square rain pellets improvising a jazz drum solo on the window well cover. 220331 ... raze a car alarm that wouldn't quit. 220401 ... raze two yappy dogs trying to out-yap each other. (it was a controversial draw.) 220426 ... raze people with too much time and too little imagination driving in circles as fast as possible. 220603 ... raze last night's emotional leftovers. 220604 ... raze hope that curdled into fermented cream. 220606 ... past fear that my alarm would wake up the little who i took to the spare room after he had a nightmare. i fell back to sleep. then the alarm itself, waking said little, costing me my morning hour to my self. 220606 ... raze someone racing or chasing ghosts at 6:45 a.m. 220614 ... kerry thunder 220614 ... raze (same here.) 220616 ... kerry thunder again, so loud it felt like the ceiling would cave in 220616 ... raze my stomach warbling a perfect g above middle c. 220618 ... nr did you just feel in your gut that it was a G? (har har) 220618 ... raze (that made me cackle. i wasn't sure if it was a g at first; i had to sing the note and check to be sure. but it was very clear, and very musical, which isn't like my stomach at all.) 220618 ... tender_square a dream where my father asked me if i was moving on to a phd. my response to him was “i know i could do it, but i have no interest in working in academia after.” 220619 ... raze the last bit of rain we're likely to get before the next heat_event. 220620 ... raze the rattling of a pedestal fan that's too old and too tired to care about quieting the sound of its twisted thoughts. 220621 ... raze two members of the dogchestra warming up their vocal cords. 220630 ... raze the fear of sleeping_in after i_woke_up two hours late in a dream. 220707 ... kerry anxiety 220707 ... raze a hand on my knee and nine whispered words. 220708 ... raze some thoughtful person's bass-heavy car stereo blasting shitty music, bleeding into my dream before kicking me out of it. 220719 ... nr more power drilling in the building. reasons why drilling is not a good replacement alarm: -it wakes you up two hours before you need to wake up -it doesn’t stop even after you’ve woken up -it makes you hate everything 220719 ... tender_square the panic of oversleeping, dreams dissipating like dust-blown particles into air. 220719 ... raze my own mind pushing away the last hour of sleep i hoped to get. 220720 ... raze the same thing that woke me up yesterday. 220721 ... tender_square the chime of my alarm, thirteen minutes too late. 220721 ... raze thunder at 4:40 a.m. 220723 ... tender_square the silver light of a rained-out morning. 220723 ... raze disquiet. 220724 ... raze city_workers inventing another bullshit nothing job so they can siphon more money from the pockets of taxpayers who are too busy looking at their phones to notice their pants growing lighter. 220725 ... tender_square back muscles that contracted into clench. 220725 ... raze the need to sing another blues_song_for_my_bladder. 220726 ... tender_square something shifting in the organs of the fridge. either that or some glass jarred condiments were getting it on in the dark. 220726 ... raze pain. 220727 ... tender_square the smell of ripe armpits. 220731 ... raze the last of my half_asleep_thoughts. 220801 ... raze the distant thrum of electronic drums. 220812 ... raze the need to pee (again). 220813 ... e_o_i anticipation of a craft_show, ten minutes before my 7 AM alarm 220813 ... raze same_shit_different_day. 220820 ... e_o_i oddly_specific_recurring_dream (counts as same_shit_different_day) 220820 ... raze a delayed_storm, complete with thunder_like_a_gunshot. 220821 ... tender_square panic. 220823 ... raze for the first time in forever, a train_whistle. but i got back to sleep. 220824 ... raze i wish i knew. 220825 ... raze some idiot neighbour banging on bullshit. 220826 ... tender_square furious footsteps. 220828 ... raze that same fan whining instead of rattling, exchanging a sound i'm used to by now for one i haven't heard before. 220831 ... e_o_i Even though I'm not working today, my boss calling me to ask about possible students for a mini-group class (it was past 10 AM...I'd fallen back asleep, not early_to_rise) 220831 ... raze something running around on the roof. 220901 ... tender_square a starling crack of thunder shattering sky (alas, the storm was only in my dreams). 220901 ... raze three stunning unfiltered pictures and a beautiful face in motion. 220902 ... tender_square a lost earplug. 220902 ... tender_square aches in the spaces between bones. 220908 ... raze another fine specimen who saw fit to race a nonexistent opponent at 5:30. 220909 ... raze (and again.) 220910 ... tender_square the end of a dream where all i had left to offer him was crumbs. 220913 ... tender_square his restless limbs electric with fear for the future. 220917 ... raze unnecessary low_end_information. 220918 ... raze the angriest thunder i've ever heard. 220919 ... tender_square scratching that i was certain came from a rodent but was simply rain pattering a decrepit window. 220919 ... raze dread. 220921 ... raze the residue of imagined loss. 220929 ... tender_square a chill worming through the holes in the afghan. 220929 ... tender_square the flotsam of stress dreams. 221005 ... raze my old friend the fucking train_whistle. 221006 ... tender_square the panic of having missed him. 221006 ... tender_square the bathroom door’s tongue catching the latch as my father dealt with an upset stomach. 221007 ... tender_square pieces of metal bumping and grinding. 221008 ... tender_square a dream where i kissed my ex-husband back from the brink of anaphylactic shock. 221015 ... tender_square a concerned shake from my husband because i was screaming aloud and in my dreams and could not ascertain or recall why. 221028 ... tender_square a light emanating from the hallway. 221029 ... raze the low roar of some idiot engine. 221101 ... past the sound of loud coughing and tears, and the acidic smell of bile beside me. 221102 ... raze the uncertainty imparted by dst. 221106 ... tender_square backache and dehydration. 221106 ... raze my old friend. the train_whistle. 221107 ... raze (turns out i already blathed that a month ago, only with more profanity. ha.) 221107 ... tender_square the lethargy of being drop-kicked by the universe despite sleeping for seven straight hours. 221109 ... raze everything. 221110 ... tender_square a perfect square of moonlight. 221110 ... raze the soulless music of studied incompetence. 221114 ... tender_square a dream about photocopying. 221114 ... raze a thoughtless asshole. 221116 ... tender_square a wildebeest. 221116 ... raze my growling_stomach. 221117 ... raze the ghost of what woke me the day before yesterday. 221118 ... raze the gentle tug of indifference. 221119 ... raze the groaning of a low-flying airplane. 221120 ... raze the same shit that woke me up yesterday, and the day before that, and the day before that, and the day before that, and the day before that. the same shit that'll wake me up again tomorrow, and the next day, and the next, and the day after that. feels like i haven't_slept_in_years. i don't know why i bother trying to sleep at all anymore. 221126 ... tender_square the rain's soft babble. 221127 ... raze the wind throwing its weight around again. 221130 ... raze the cold kiss of december. 221201 ... raze nothing. for once. 221202 ... tender_square a dream where i was waiting in line for an amusement park while someone sold knockoff t-shirts to the crowd. 221203 ... past being peed on by a three year old. 221205 ... e_o_i past, you have my sympathy but also amusement! What woke me up? A sense of restedness, relief that I could sleep despite the itchiness (but the itchy sensation came back soon enough; it retreats when I stay still). Please go away, itch. I have exciting life things to do, like syntax and crying. 221205 ... raze the same mindless wheeze that short-circuits my internal clock every morning now. 221206 ... past e_o_i, i am truly live the most glamorous life of all the skites. 221206 ... past (makes typos) (i am truly live? how did that "am" get there?) 221206 ... raze recycling being collected at 6:25. 221208 ... raze noise-induced insomnia. 221209 ... raze the roar of four low_flying_planes. 221210 ... raze the fear of sleeping_in (again). 221214 ... tender_square my back creaking like an old hinge. 221214 ... lycanthrope a drawn breath, a drawn bath, a drawn face. the mellowing and then intensifying charcoal passes of morning. a slap in the mirror like a prizefighter a vague feeling that something terribly important has been forgotten since I last closed my eyes. the round hips of love and lazy morning lust. the demand for tribute from an ancient species the matutinal meow. the cruel reminder from an already warm toilet seat that you're already a step behind. missing the waste basket with the poem you just crumpled as you confess to yourself it's always been mostly coffee. 221214 ... raze renegade rain that should have been snow. 221215 ... tender_square the dismay of having overslept when i'd planned to pack. 221220 ... past a vomitting child. 221220 ... raze it doesn't matter anymore. i wish i never woke up at all. 221221 ... tender_square my bonfire hair seeping into the pillowcase. 221222 ... past a screaming toddler ready for the day way to early. 221222 ... raze a wordless special_weather_statement. 221223 ... tender_square a dream where i watched my father drown and couldn't save him. 221225 ... raze a dream in which one of my friends was killed by a cat. 221228 ... tender_square a mouth so dry that no water could could wet it. 221230 ... tender_square thinking about vintage telephone tables. 221231 ... raze cold engines idling. 230104 ... raze a neighbour whose whole life is low_end_information sitting in his driveway with his stereo turned up loud enough to make my scrotum and its angry occupants dance against their will. 230106 ... tender_square tinnitus and hoarseness. 230115 ... kerry anxiety and a sore neck. 230116 ... raze the same thing that's been ripping me out of sleep before i'm ready to leave almost every day for the last three months and change. 230117 ... e_o_i I don't know exactly what did the initial waking, but I kept awake because I started laughing about a dream I just had. Like, who dreams of hearing a novelty Christmas song about the fall of the Berlin wall?? If only every dream of mine could be blessed with such silly specificity! I lay in bed giggling - and it's VERY rare I'm in a good humour when I wake up for the day before meaning to (it was 6 and my alarm was set for 6:45). 230117 ... e_o_i (I put the remembered lyrics in my pink notebook, but it's not with me now. If I don't collapse into an exhausted heap when I get home, it's definitely going on blather.) 230117 ... raze rain and recycling trucks. 230119 ... raze the same sound that's going to kill me. 230120 ... raze the train_whistle that never ceases, a yappy dog throwing a tantrum, and the neighbour who fancies himself a poet sitting in his driveway blasting talk_radio so loud i could almost feel the voices of strangers kissing my colon. in that order. 230127 ... tender_square the slow, steady trickle of melting snow as it fell into the sump pump well, like chinese water torture. 230127 ... raze my body's memory of what woke me yesterday. 230128 ... raze the pounding of my pulse through the palm of my hand. 230129 ... tender_square cats in the throes of passion. 230130 ... tender_square sinusitis. 230131 ... tender_square essex_terminal_railway 230201 ... raze it doesn't even matter anymore. 230202 ... raze something thick and heavy being struck. 230203 ... tender_square the white light of day so incandescent it burned through my sleep mask. 230205 ... past getting vomited on. (incidentally, this is also what woke me up in the middle of the night.) 230208 ... raze god's piss pelting my least favourite pane of glass. 230209 ... tender_square overwhelming loneliness. 230213 ... raze take a guess. 230214 ... tender_square the panic of hearing footsteps on stairs. i was convinced someone had broken in the basement and was stomping up the stairs to my floor. turns out, my next door neighbour was clomping around in boots on his deck outside my bedroom window. 230216 ... tender_square roofers driving nails into my consciousness at six a.m. 230217 ... raze the desperate groaning of a pneumatic engine that should have been put out of its misery a long time ago. 230223 ... raze yet another blues_song_for_my_bladder. 230224 ... raze a bird with a song like a wet skipping stone. 230227 ... tender_square inexplicable thunder. 230227 ... tender_square two feral cats getting mighty territorial. 230228 ... raze my gut voicing a litany of rhythmic complaints. 230308 ... tender_square bursts of birdsong. 230309 ... tender_square pieces of velcro being torn apart. 230311 ... raze my own goddamn gummed-up brain. 230312 ... raze my belligerent belly saying, "beat it." 230313 ... raze a woodpecker doing work. 230319 ... raze my old friend the train_whistle. 230320 ... raze a bird in search of a booty call, a jackass racing invisible opponents in the dark, a city vehicle as ugly as the inner workings of its occupants, and a dog who never shuts up even though it has nothing of substance to say. in that order. 230330 ... raze a dove's persistent single-note song. 230402 ... raze the antiquated ass cheese of a loudmouth locomotive. 230411 ... past bird song at dawn floating in the open window. 230413 ... raze recycling_day. 230414 ... raze the sound of the city killing another healthy tree. 230421 ... Elytis An exam I was happy to finish. When I was done my prof whispered "I wish you'd come back, you're a really good writer". It's a dead dream now, but not the end of everything. 230421 ... raze the bottom of the big toe on my right foot going numb. 230424 ... raze stephanie's yappy dog barking at his own shadow. 230425 ... raze (and again.) 230428 ... tender_square a dream about the board game monopoly. and i wonder if it's chance cards mean something (go directly to jail; do not pass go, do not collect $200). 230429 ... jane these days it’s almost always the orange cat 230429 ... raze a door opening on its own. 230503 ... tender_square the chime from the alarm i set when i worried that i would sleep the day away. 230507 ... raze my neighbour sitting in his driveway blasting bass-heavy bullshit music. 230508 ... raze my father's voice, stirring me from a sleep that for once wasn't interrupted by the soulless machinery of a world that values profit over people. 230509 ... raze the ringing of a phantom doorbell. 230513 ... tender_square a dream where the tenant grabbed my ass and said "come sit on my lap." 230513 ... tender_square a dream about an ex-boyfriend where he admitted plainly to my parents and to me how much of a drug addict he used to be. 230514 ... raze everything. 230516 ... tender_square a dream where my sisters were living with me because my attitude was "life already sucks with the tenant, why not add more?" i was still trying to ice them out while we lived in the same space, sharing a kitchen and a bathroom. 230516 ... tender_square the stench of skunk, the worry of work, the residue of a dream where i was ingratiating toward my ex-husband. 230605 ... raze a muffler that needs to be put out of its misery. 230607 ... raze the city taking an hour and a half to collect the recycling on our street. it's not a long street. 230608 ... raze yet another bird_before_the_sun. 230622 ... raze a sore ear. 230629 ... raze what sounded like someone knocking twice on my bedroom window. 230708 ... past future wailing, one of her brothers kicking me. 230708 ... tender_square a dream where i was rummaging through a fridge, studying cubed jewels of fruit floating in their syrup of their making. 230709 ... past a muffled alarm singing through the heap of blankets on the floor beside the bed i was sleeping in, after being displaced from my own by two of the littles in the night. 230711 ... raze a thunderstorm at 5:00 a.m. 230715 ... tender_square the dew of a new day. 230715 ... raze the sound of someone who couldn't be bothered to put their garbage out last night chucking plastic pails onto their lawn at the last possible second. 230719 ... tender_square a work-related stress dream when i am a woman without deadlines. 230727 ... tender_square the bravado of bullfrogs. 230729 ... tender_square the pressing need to urinate at dawn's insistence. 230730 ... raze someone with no life making love to their lawn. 230731 ... raze what sounded like two airplane engines having sloppy sex. 230822 ... raze the squeaking of the front_door. 230823 ... raze the same storm that raged all night and bled into my dreams. 230824 ... tender_square lightning strobing the sky more frequently than a rave. 230824 ... raze the sound of someone shovelling nonexistent snow in late august. 230828 ... raze i'll give you a hint: it rhymes with "brain thistle". 230829 ... raze another faceless person in a hurry to go nowhere. 230830 ... e_o_i The tendency of fluids to move downwards (3 AM: having to pee. 6:30 AM: loud rain). 230830 ... raze the squeaky door again. twice. 230905 ... raze a neighbour opening and closing her car doors about a million times. 230911 ... raze two people who didn't know how to properly lock their vehicles. 230913 ... raze one of the least talented members of the dogchestra. 230914 ... raze more street racing, a dead air_conditioner, the need to piss, and two overpaid assholes mutilating a tree. 230915 ... raze two goons collecting garbage. 230920 ... Soma My cat curling up onto my outstretched arm, his small claws flexing into me in a show of happiness blended with discomfort. They startle me with a sharpness that doesn’t cut, but stings. I roll onto my side, carefully shifting him off my bones and onto the designated pillow around which my body curls like some clingy babe. It’s dim still, and my bleary gaze turns to the window, where I can just barely see the peaks of “The Dog” watching the house where I sleep. “Too early for you to rise” his leafy voice rustles. So i go back to bed, a cat purring next to my core. 230921 ... raze the idling of idiot engines. 230923 ... Soma The clatter of a prescription bottle of pills hitting the tile floor. 230924 ... raze imaginary blood. 230926 ... raze the sound of empty cardboard containers and glass jars being thrown. 230928 ... raze the power cutting out and coming back on again. 231004 ... raze street racing before there was any sun in the sky, someone blasting bass-heavy music loud enough to knock the fillings from god's teeth, and then the same chainsaw noise that ripped me out of sleep yesterday. 231019 ... raze the mumbling of some imagined engine. 231024 ... Soma A heavy crash. I hear the sound of rummaging downstairs, something being knocked over, plastic being scooted. I'm home alone, or so I thought. Creeping down the stairs I hear a sneeze. A small one. Cat sized. The only intrusion is apparently that of my feline companion into the pantry. He's somehow opened the latch and is helping himself to kibble and treats. 231025 ... raze the melody of a song that doesn't exist, that fled as soon as i finished dreaming it. 231026 ... raze smacking my knee on the back of a heavy wooden tv stand. 231031 ... raze the wind doing a fine impersonation of a woodpecker. 231102 ... raze the train_whistle. on a sunday. on a fucking sunday. thirteen months of this now. i don't remember what a decent sleep feels like. it doesn't exist anymore. it never will again. 231119 ... raze the train_whistle. again. at 6:51. because why should this_year be any different from the last? 240103 ... raze the same putrid sound pissing in my ear at the exact same time. 240104 ... raze steel and glass. 240105 ... raze wind that sounded like a giant pushing a massive shopping cart full of everything that mattered to them. 240113 ... raze the realization that i'd slept in. 240117 ... raze two low_flying_planes. 240202 ... raze the train whistle. the train whistle. the train whistle. teouf wdhguoeghfiuy ewhoudewhfouhe. 240208 ... raze a dream about a tree that left me as soon as i opened my eyes. 240209 ... raze the train whistle. at 1:30. then again at 6:45. destroying my sleep on both ends. i don't know why i bother getting out of bed anymore. there's no peace. there's no relief. it never ends. it only gets worse. 240223 ... raze emotional scar tissue tearing itself open while i slept. 240225 ... raze the menacing howl of some invisible motor. 240227 ... raze the sky being an asshole. 240428 ... raze a multidisciplinary moron mowing his lawn. 240514 ... e_o_i The first time, too early? Rhymes with "train" and is airborne. And then hogs. A barge lumber of hogs, parking. (I'm not used to this leaving-window-open weather yet.) 240516 ... raze a storm that sounded like a flood. 240525 ... raze street racing at 6:40 a.m. 240601 ... raze a collage of imagined car horn histrionics. 240613 ... raze someone banging on something. 240614 ... raze a thunderstorm that shook the sky before the sun saw fit to show itself. 240617 ... raze another storm that shivered and swelled all night long. it must have interrupted my sleep twenty times. 240629 ... raze the thoughtful neighbour who's been "doing work" in his back yard for two months now, with no end in sight. 240711 ... raze and again. 240723 ... Soma nothing – except my own cessation of sleep. 240723 ... Soma the piercing shrill whine of a large, idling truck engine. 240724 ... Soma Nonsensical yells in the neighbor's driveway giving way to a "fuck you!" before the throaty growl of a car could be heard as it sped away. 240725 ... Soma that fucking truck. 240726 ... Soma pain in my abdomen. I stayed awake, relieved in the knowledge that it was last time I would ever feel this particular pain. 240727 ... raze the end of a dream about a writer i've never met. 240728 ... raze the heavy drumming of rain at 3:00 a.m. 240730 ... raze three farts from a foghorn. 240812 ... raze a storm i wasn't told to expect. 240827 ... e_o_i An Amber Alert broadcast on phones, I think about a grandmother kidnapping her granddaughter in a nearby town. To me it was just an annoying sound, but I hope whatever problems in that family are made bearable and the kid is all right. 240827 ... raze the train_whistle, for what must have been the six hundredth time. 240828 ... Soma Nothing woke me as i was already awake, staring listlessly at the whirring ceiling fan above me. 240830 ... raze more 3:00 a.m. rain. 240831 ... raze an endless string of half_asleep_thoughts. 240905 ... Soma the sound of the garbage trucks driving about, their deep rumbling engines going down the street behind our house. 240905 ... raze that same thoughtful person who still hasn't finished work on his ugly deck and enclosed porch and has been destroying my ability to sleep, wake up, or relax in my own house for four months now. 240906 ... raze a truck collecting yard waste. 240907 ... Soma a spasm of pain as it appears my chest attempted to draw my brain down into it overnight. 240913 ... raze the train_whistle. because why should anything change after two years of near-constant torment? 240923 ... raze the knowledge of what's coming, and my inability to circumvent it. 240929 ... raze the train_whistle. at 6:50. just like old times. 241003 ... raze the government-mandated widening of a sidewalk no one ever uses. 241004 ... raze the lonesome moan of an airplane. 241009 ... raze the recycling truck (a thursday special). 241010 ... raze the usual shit. 241011 ... Soma A dream that I had gone to work as an unexpected exorcist, and was listening to the demons whispering in my mattress. I closed my eyes, and they pulled me under the covers, submerged me in darkness. As I began to suffocate, I woke up, tangled in the sheets and certain I still heard them rasping in the back of my skull. I turned on the lights and cried in the middle of the floor, shaking like I’d just narrowly missed death. 241011 ... raze for the first time in recent_memory, only my internal_clock. 241014 ... raze a thoughtful person revving their engine repeatedly. at 5:30. in the dark. 241029 ... raze a headache. 241112 what's it to you? who go blather from