The Sand is attacking the human race on many levels — through different levels of consciousness, different periods of time. Any front where it sees a weakness it pours itself into and works to exploit the cracks. There are people from various disciplines and of various skill levels all coming together to engage in battle — a loose collective of people known as The Insomniaxe.

Insomniaxe is a group.

Insomniaxe is an individual.

Insomniaxe is a weapon.

Insomniaxe is a place.

Insomniaxe is a time.

Insomniaxe is none of these things.

sleep less

some reverse sandman with a pocketful of grit
come to collect the shit from the sleepy
don’t wanna wake, let the dreaming keep me
this endless fight with morpheus, some caffeine fuelled skirmish
we opine like an endless whine tired in rewind
this is no sunrise sunset argument of light and dark
just a wolf gone rogue against the pack exercising it’s bark
the god of prod and unattractive seduction into waking
would never believe that the one who sleeps is for the taking
who wants to be an alarm clock or a crowing cock?
who wants the salt taste of pissing in the wind?
the raised hand is a weather vane rusted
aspiring to be the twice right clock busted
it tires some with its tiresome refrain undone and dumb
your invite isn’t right and none will come