did you ever wake up in the middle of a nightmare?

where a man from the 1950’s has just cooked the barbeque in the great outdoors and is walking the tray piled high with hamburgers over to his all american family who are eagerly awaiting the feast at the picnic table and it’s all fresh and healthy and completely normal and even a little bit sweet until i realise that he is on fire, he is literally engulfed in flames. trying to recover from the shock of what i am witnessing i approach from the north to look across to his family who are also ablaze yet behaving in a serene charade of real life. i look down to realise that i too am on fire. it hurts, sort of, but it’s more just cumbersome when you’re in the middle of the inferno, and noisy, so noisy. i contemplate the pain, or lack thereof that anyone is suffering when i look overhead, up into the trees, where against gravity there are people lying face down and horizontal, looking like a troop of ballet extras or circus folk in their green body paint that camouflages them but not quite until i realise that they are all in the throes of grand mal seizures, they are fitting before my very eyes and i just know that television is the devil. they will be there for eternity, an eternity of fitting. it kinda puts my pain in perspective.