Slow to wake when nightmares replace dreams

I wake slowly. Knowing that the extra twenty minutes I snooze my alarm to won’t matter. But I still do it. I pet the cat by my side. She rolls over my hand and goes back to sleep. I long to join her. But that extra 20 minutes was a dream. A hope which fades with every passing second. I have to get up.

It’s not a particularly hard job. Nor a harsh work environment. I’m just tired. So fucking tired of too short weekends and work weeks which drag away hours from those weekends.

It’s what fuels discontent. What makes every day a little worse. The accumulation of hours without end. Without purpose. Without hope of change.

As the day wears on, I am reminded of good things. Of love. Of hope. Of kissable lips. Of the dream of the brighter world. The sadness lingers like hot breathe against soft skin.

Quench my thirst on love. On desire. On dreams of far places, where I am becomes we. And what was becomes joy.

When an author dreams

Out past the fringes on a world run in partnership with embodied ai there is a threat coming which has already fought 3 galaxy class military cruisers. After a battle in which 2 of the ai’s ran rather than risk destruction the third sent a tightbeam containing the footage of the battle and the last backup they had to the nearest outpost. Unfortunately, at light speeds the message took 12 years to arrive and while the message was intact, the backup was incomplete. It was was clear though that the enemy had no desire to negotiate or speak and instead desired only destruction.

They spun the backup up but were disappointed to find that most of its memories of the journey out to the rim had been lost. So they had no idea what vector the threat was coming from. Central had received word from the 2 retreating ships but their telemetry was incomplete. The leader of their expedition was lost.

The leaders backup was embodied in a small vessel capable of space flight and left to its own devices. No longer relevant.

Years pass as the Ai and humans prepare for a battle they are unsure of

The little Ai is seen as an annoyance, a demenstration of the fallibility of even beings such as they.

6 years later the little ai receives a narrow beam which nearly fries his tesseract brain with an overlad of information. The remaining telemetry and backup containing a couple of years of captivity. The data is seen as suspect but they are required by law to allow the ai his memories. Now the ai is distrusted because it’s possible the memories have been tampered with

But the ai knows that what’s coming was contained in one of the tower ships commissioned by humanity to explore out beyond the fringes. Ships which came back strange and requiring human/clone crew which engage in bizzare behaviour to further some unknown goal.

One such ship resides in the ai’s system and it flies out to it after seeking the assistance of a human. Since human thoughtforms are strange and since this human was willing to listen.

They arrive and find a massive interior dedicated to some kind of game in which the humans gather some kind of power to themselves and go on a journey. Gathering more and more power until they can win the ‘game’. Everything on the ship is a game and even death is impermanent. As a new clone will be grown and the consciousness embodied there. So many deaths has resulted in a kind of memory fatigue which means it’s inhabitamts no longer realize what they were trying to win

And the most frightening thing is, this ship type was what attacked the ai fringes those many years ago

Bent penny dreams

lives too full of living
Look for some future to slow down
Breaking ourselves apart
To gain a moments respite
We cost ourselves a life
Hours of days spent in the service of the wealth of others
Gaining just enough to get by
Just enough to numb ourselves
To start all over again
I wish I could be the firebrand
Setting brush fires in fallow minds
But who has the energy
Revolution ends in destruction
In the creation of structures that resemble the same that were burned
What’s the point
Money, false scarcity, power and the indifference of those who have those things
Taxes?
Pay your people more
Top down doesn’t work
A wide base spending more does
Creating more
Having the time to invest in ourselves
In the creation of health
In the settling of unquiet minds
Enough money to not be afraid
That’s all we’re talking about

Rough woods yields form

So easy to lose in silence
Hollow silence where not even the echo of hearts beating faintly thrums
Distant words waiting for unsaid truths
Always hesitant
What point truth which digs dagger deep
Which burns a familiar cold
Almost like home
Like tired lines which snap shape
Which make you feel like control is there
Woefully unprepared for love
Without presence
Light bleeds blue
Too slow to see
Bleed violet
Who gets to see the space between
Where pain is just what is
And hope is just words written on leaves
And tossed out
Answers looking for questions
Homes looking for love

The blade draws its sigil

Skip time
Nightmare to nightmare
Hour to hour
Waking up to an empty bed
Staring at the clock
Each hour sliding past
Waking again and again
Each moment furthering from you
That nightmare which makes waking seem paradise
Confessions made to the empty air
Tears shed in agony
Refuge broken
Sleep fades
Time to get up
Time to cast against the wheel
Made to love
Made to break

Brain burns without hope of tomorrow

There is a distance as warm lethargy drags me down. Cupped hands hold, eyes shielded from the light
Loud voices drift in
Talking nonsense loudly
As if to convince their last neurons of their spent future parody of truth
Mind fades
Dreams spin up
Nightmare into nightmare
Anxiety dreams
Wake on the hour
But at least I can sleep this time

Dry river remembrance

I’m broke down tear streaked cold nosed sleep deprived humanity
In other words normal end of weekend depression
Having to go to work to earn that money to live another two weeks and spend enough to feel just a little bit in control of my pain addled life
Each day begging for an end only to stumble through my door and collapse into bed asleep
Waking up way too early
To roll the dice on forlorn hope
Fucked up that chance is the only solution that I can think of
Broken bone words splintered in forgiveness without the chance to heal
Slow decay
I’d give up I think
But I’d rather be if at all possible
In your arms

Sipping bitter wine by the sea

Woke up with a head full of pain and a heart full of turns
Dream lives of lonely and thirst
Of hopes found in destruction
Of ghosts made younger and love made whole
Spinning plate capitalism
Faster and faster
Before the shatter
Before instability robs us of even the illusion of control
Sad goosebump shiver
Brain flairs in pain
Followed into truth
False pretenses build bridges
The memory of a memory which itself flares into pain
Last pleasure stolen
Fateful illusion won’t you hold my hand
For want of you I’m dying by inches
Itching for command
Knowing the only command I’d give won’t be followed
Leadership dilemma
And behind it all
That bone deep ache we learn to bury
And a craving for lemon cake