Storytelling in abbreviation

He awoke from a dream like all the others; the early morning sun burned through the haze, dominant in the sky, invasive within the room.      Bad, bad, bad! Lets try again.        It was a dark and stormy night.      No, no, hell no!       The breeze took out the mobile home park.     Huh?     Small green insects penetrated his skin and entered his bloodstream, causing pain so intense as to render him unconscious.    His splitting headache was aggravated by his multiple personality disorder.      I can't seem to catch the phrase.          Try this: a million screaming hinges pierced the night as the multitudes marched blindly through the streets crying out for daylight. Blood coursed from their ears as the hinges opened upon their minds. The collective that was the nightwalker's clan disbursed in agony as daybreak approached. Their job complete, the hinges retired as dust upon the ground, diluted by breeze, forgotten. The doors, lacking attachment, dropped and fell flat.            The last time he fell off the wagon, he caught his bandanna on a post and nearly strangled before the post snapped, cracking his skull, causing him to flip off the side in a twist, hitting the ground, one leg outside the wheel, the other inside. The wagon continued over his crotch, bouncing over him without a care. A half full bottle of johnny walker red clunked him in the head. His right hand clutched his genitals while his left snatched the booze. Singlehandedly he thumbed off the screw top and upped a swig. As he swallowed, he decided it was safer to stay off the wagon, drunk, than to risk death in the fall.        For those of you who expected more than drivel, wait until I get home where I can more easily write.