Psychotic Times

I wonder what these avian flocks of crows know? Tonight they cloud over my house grim and arcane, a ruin of tone as demon possesed as I feel. I started my day at 12:07 pm, my clock set earlier or perhaps later by actual time. I wanted sleep. The five hours I dominated myself impressing me so much that another half of one hour, or even 5 minutes would have manifested in me the peace of an aged man's death. Thus to say- feeling quite unrestored- I went through my usual post sleep tediums: a call from my mother (in town visiting my brother), a brief thought about the water bill (due last week,i will pay today)
-"get up" a voice said
"Five more minutes" I responded.
To you I will disclose that my room was undeniably empty of conversers...at least those with bodies and mouths to convers aside from the one body and mouth which belonged to me.
My space can be described as a menagerie of meticulous heaps of peronal property. Positioned here are newspapers..there are cd cases, grocery bags, a hamper overflowing centrifugal to the bed. Portfolios are bursting with unfinished art work. Winter garb lies cozy by unpaid bills. Two chests of drawers and a free standing closet make up the rest of the furniture. I have sworn aloud that the narrow glorified cot will be occupied by me alone to the unbodied response:
- "stretch out then"
I am resentful this afternoon. I was awake until 7 am. Grandiose inclinations had starved my sleep. I was determined in my vengeance against entities that were intagible to me. Last night, once again, they had quite literally whispered my speaking voice away...commanding me to sleep now.

I realised with scorn that my breathing was not self goverened.
I should apologize for my previous statement. Much of what I say sounds glutonous...the frivolous platitudes of the deranged. I had said much earlier that I feel posessed...only because I am just that.
Similar to Detroit motor city's blues filled rock and roll, the arrangement that rasped unwillingly from my throat last night was as follows:

"-you can travel back in time"
"-go to sleep"
"-I cant breathe! Tonight's the night we die!"
"-Stop talking aloud"
"-I didnt know Laura will kill us tonight"
"-I dontknow what to say to you"
"-Just let her talk through you"
"-Its just sound"

'Its just sound'...what the hell does that mean? This conversation is an audible reiteration of a consuming mental fuck...or as my psychiatrist likes to call it a "psychotic episode".