Apples and Dionyseses

I dread the new day. The death of the night and the rebirth of work and strife and all that is starting over again. It's an inevitable burden, and as I sit encapsulated and entranced with Greek mythology and the sound of Jim Morrison I wish the night never ended.

Hopefully some day when my psyche is stable enough I can cherish the never-ending beginning of the day, but not it is despised as it represents the end of my current rhythm. Soon I'll be yearning for sleep and drop into a stupor, my mind will numb and I will push on hoping to avoid the passing time.

Lately I've been hallucinating, which hasn't happened before, or at least not as consciously. The other morning I saw a spider crawl the wall which most certainly wasn't there. And above my friend an Indian shaman man blinking in and out existence. I check, I'm still awake;the dream state thrust itself onto my waking reality, forcing the acceptance of everything I don't want.