delirium dream machine

Say one thing about sleeping, say you only realise the repercussions of sleeping at an odd angle where you've tucked your head painfully sideways in the morning.
To say that I woke up with a crick in my neck and strained shoulder would be an understatement because the moment I was awake I was aware of my most unfortunate selection of bedtime posture, that put all the strain on my poor neck because I woke up on my belly and my neck positioned sideways, which put all my weight on the neck, straining it and causing a bit of hurt that only makes itself known when I turn my neck to my right.
Most horrible this, added to that a sleep fitful and conjoined with a tapestry of ridiculous dreams that mostly verged on the dreadful.
In one I saw the advancement of a malevolent Godzilla trying to tear apart the city I lived in, and my family boarding an aeroplane in hopes to get out, and I behind them, trying to warn them and plead with them to get off the plane, when the obviously stressed out pilot didn't even wait for the doors to close and took off and it was with much argument that I was able to convince the pilot to land instead of flying seeing how the monster was near the airport and he'd only have to extend a limb to crush the aircraft, after which I took my parents to an underground metro station that would stay away from the influence of passing destruction.
This dream so disquieting and exasperatingly real in its real-time feel of falling in a shaky plane compounded with the fear of trying to keep my family safe in a city rundown with fear and annihilation broke me into chunks of sweat. I was running through, sweating, screaming, trying to push my parents out of falling towers and crumbling concrete and basically just trying to keep clear of havoc, watching missiles fly over my head only to disappear like flies on the reptilian skin of the insanely huge monster.
Gah! that's a dream I could do without, and promptly after waking up to that ghastly dream, I was asleep again, dreaming of being in a place that I didn't know of, living in that uncertain mode where I wasn't sure how to go about my life. Roaming the streets with a huge bag I had no place to stay and suddenly I was in a classroom where I'd be asked about my previous grades, knowing full well I never attended any other class previously I was worried haggard of the uncertainty that was sure to plague me, I was awake again!
Phew!
Finally some more dreams, ones I can't recall, but not the most pleasant ones and all overlapping each other to the point it goaded me to get rid of them by opening my eyes to a morning most cold. The dreams steadily leaching out of my body, slowly in colourful hues of forgetfulness, some stayed stuck to my head, some like syrup oozed out into my heart and some I flicked with the merest wince of my neck..and now..well..here we are.

cat-atonic

Say one thing about the changing weather, say it affects animals most oddly.
Case in point my dearly beloved cat, who had donned a cloak most saintly during winters only to shed it and turn into something wholeheartedly demonic.
I slept mostly fitfully during those crisp winter months when the feline darling didn't dare venture out nor fling his person from the cottony hillocks of my thick duvet about the house in nocturnal rampage as cats are usually wont to. Instead, he silently munched his meal before folding into a furry mound of slumbering pussy, tucking seamlessly between the warmth of my body and the covering of fat blanket, and now that the weather is all sorts of pleasant with sunshine and cool breeze, the little bastard sleeps in a coma throughout the day, perched in odd places about the architecture and turns into an entity most cutely beguiling at night. Sleep is as far away from his mind as the sun from this planet and he derives some sadistic pleasure from torturing me throughout the night by waking me up at odd hours for food, even though he's been fed and not once but in intervals of every couple hours, completely disregarding the fact that his bowl still has some food.
If not that then waking me up to play with him, to run after him in a grotesque fashion of nightly hide and seek, where I, a zombie, try to chase him out of the house while he, a goddamn asshole, runs about ducking under couches and beds, evading me and when in a final vexation of anger and exasperation I lock him out of the bedroom to get some sleep, he meows in a voice most pitiful, resounding with a need to be loved and so dismal are his meows that even though I kow I'm going to get fooled into his tricks I open the door only to have him scurry away in an invitation to play his games.
When finally I catch him and throw him out of the house, he looks up at me in that similar touching, almost hurt eyes that I begin feeling like a monster and knowing full well that he's only going to annoy me once back in the house I let him, to have the entire night repeat itself and did I tell you the clock reads 2:30 am, and this continues till nearly five when I finally fling the fucker out with nary a remorse and fall back into deep deep sleep because by the heavens my body almost feels like it's breaking in places.

I just don't get it. It's been two nights and I'm functioning on fumes.
There has to be a way out of this and I will find it.

More updates on this soon.