Why am I awake?

Gah! Would you look at the time? It's both six am, and four days since I last posted. How come the time is going past so quickly? It's not as if I do much, but the days are falling past into the ether like a substance which is habitually preyed upon by the ethernites. Or whatever. I woke up at two am and finished the book I was reading and found that my brain was doing its buzzing thing with ideas and so decided to write some of them down. Then I decided to write something here without any clear purpose as to what to write about. And that's a story for the history books.
Don't you hate that phrase "would you look at the time"? Whenever someone says it I have the horrible childish urge to say "No, look at it yourself."
Anyway, how about dreams? Always a hot topic, and a window into your own subconsiousness, even if it is a rather grimy window and shows a dirty room with strange things on the shelves gathering dust. It smells like an old ice-cream container that has been washed many times and has mostly been used to store curry. There is an old woman in a rocking chair who appears to be knitting but on closer imspection there is no wool on the needles and the fingers aren't moving. The room contains a complete lack of cat.
...
But yes, my dreams. Haven't had too many lately, probably a reflection of the rather stagnant state I have been in creativity wise. But two have stood out, two which I have had in the four days since I returned to wellington where there is life.
The first was a rather bizzare dream about being chased though the air ducts of an office building by law enforcement officers and young children for undisclosed crimes. I tried to escape via the fire escape but since that escape is made for fire and not people I was caught by a large number of secret police looking people in black hoddies with riot sheilds. I am punished with, and here the style of the dream changes from the mostly realistic if proportionately askew style of the dream previously into a side scrolling video game where I am forced to wear a large dunces cap. I run from side to side as things such as oversized fruit, cows and even people which I am to skewer upon my dunces cap. There was much puree and blood. Dream end.
The other dream which happened the night before requires a small amout of preface: I had been to the bulk food warehouse place where they sell the feedstuffs and the booze cheap. The cheap booze that I had bought was a bottle of absinthe. This green substance of 75% is known to provide the drinker with strange visions, but in the storebought variety the vision creating substance has been mostly removed. Mostly. But still a shot before bedtime can often provide the drinker with some strange a vivid dreams.
So as I went off to bed that night I was well anticipating some excellent and bizzare dreams, clearly remembered in graphic detail and dolby surround sound.
What I got was a dream of a toilet.
It was a very clean toilet, very similar to the toilet in my flat, and very graphic, perfectly detailed in my dreamscape but, when all is said and done, it was a toilet. At one moment in my dream I looked over to the corner of the room where, in graphic detail, there was a cobweb. I went back to looking at the toilet. Nothing else happened.
Now, If I really wanted to spend some time looking at a toilet, there is one very handilly situated in my house. Amazing though it may be, it is not a pastime I send much time on, this toilet gazing.

I really, really hope that that wasn't an accurate representation of my own subconsious. Really.

In other news, now I try to sleep again.