bed head!

I've been lying in repose all morning trying to disentangle myself from the constricting bed clothes of sleep and wading through the different layers of consciousness. The wind has been circling the house all night malevolently like a panther, it rolls and tumbles, scratching at the door. Why drag myself upwards, why should i take myself outside and fling my atoms to the wind? It would buffet me and bluster me with its icy forthright fingers, nothing would give me respite or shelter.

However i wonder if this safe existence hiding away in this darkened, warm room, is not simply another form of bondage! We like to call the chains that bind us, constrictions which the inauspicious stars endowed upon us, because it is too raw too difficult to acknowledge that perhaps we have been complicit in shackling ourselves, that is too sado-masochistic ! But we are the ones whom deduce from perception our state in the world, and is it not clear that perception is a human faculty which is open to interpretation as well? I could lift these limbs of mine into action and very often i force them to be fluid to follow the impulses the synapse reactions in my brain. However there is not a clear enough reason in my existence for this constant propulsion this constant gypsy unease which makes me uncomfortable in any situation that lies dormant and unmoving.

I fear a lack of progression but remain somewhat entombed within it. I need to be fully awakened from this slow decay of my brain and body. I am here lying awaiting the sharp knife which will plunge into me, the sharpness leaving me so cleanly severed from all that has come to pass, the bonfire of the vanities which erases all the rhetoric all the parody and falseness all the imitations all the times i have to bury my real expressive self under pretences of normality.