wake dream insomnia 7/11

the sleep-thoughts, the tiredness -- i saw faces, empty sockets, mouths in distorted

screams; i watched as a discolored brain pulsed wetly, opening slits in its own matter.

then the walls of a small-town gas station, lined with bright friendly jars, a crippling

sensation of menace. and then i felt the sensation that i was in world behind the

curtain, so to speak, though not like the unknowable -- more the

things that just don't get seen, the afterthoughts, the betwixt-and-between in the movies

linking the plotlines. and then i was thinking something about the concentric nature of

thoughts and images, like here is the central thing, the focus, and here are the natural

offshoots of those, and of them; and when you are aware your brain works outwards; you

focus on the main themes and are increasingly vaguely aware of the less and less relevant

connections -- except those times where you suddenly lose your train of thought in a jerk,

like your brain gets distracted by one particular distant offshoot, which is why sometimes

you can trace back to your original thought, layer to layer. and it's like when i'm in my

movie-image tiredness, that central thought is no longer processed, and i'm only seeing

the offshoots in rings and layers, linking fluidly to each other but without the context

of their centering, their base --