still asleep

sunday and its not any better than the last.meditation is like a narcotic, theres , no truth anymore just varying degrees of lies. i lie about myself and about who i am, i lie about what i want or need or even think. i lie about what is real and what i feel. theres no end to the deception. who am i? thats a trick question, the truth is not possible so every answer is another lie. truth has no voice, no witness no truth for dummies or how to do it yourself books. we are all the opposite of what we think we are, theres no explaining the truth, but plenty of explanations for the lies. i know im tired, thats for sure, this process is like shrink wrapping, your compressing what is into the smallest space and then removing anything that might touch it and then sucking the life out of it, the last step is throwing it on the fire like one of those presto logs, made from the waste products of who we were. the sleep is stupid, i run from my dreams, i want the narcosis of death, the end of knowing, the sleep of the undead is always waiting, zombie processing, im not there, i dont know what is happening i just know it is. but what is this, i started somewhere, it was a happy place, some dream state of love and forces of connection and being, now its different, i cant say how, its just not as fuzzy and warm, its more like walking downtown at 2:30 am and theres no place for you to go, and its cold enough to make your breath fog the air in front of you. and i realize, i dont have anyplace to call my own, everything is a dream and i've stepped out, woken up, but it feels hopeless, not like waking up relieved, just realizing maybe, im still sleeping.