Should probably take my sleeping pill again soon.
My sleep has gone back to being highly fragmented, and that’s no good. Patient reader know that in the past, I have not treated broken sleep as a problem.
To me, napping all the time was fine. Better than fine, really, because I used sleep as a way to reset my mood and hence quash the rising background anxiety that is quite simply my price for being alive and awake.
Probably should do something about that.
Patient readers also know that I am more enlightened now. /I recognize that broken sleep is not good enough. Not enough deep REM time.
So I will likely take my sleepy pill tomorrow morning, with breakfast, in hopes of getting a good four or five hours of uninterrupted, dream-rich, soul nourishing sleep.
My soul needs all the nourishing it can get.
I think part of the reason that sleep has always been difficult for me is that my mind is so very good at stimulating itself.
That’s what all that deep deductive thinking is about when you break it down to its most basic emotional level. All those hours of being bored out of my gourd in class as a kid made me into a deep thinker because when you think about it (lol), deep deductive thinking requires zero input from the real world.
It just takes what is already known and correlates and connects it and processed it deeply so that new information is derived.
So it’s a great thing to do when you can’t do anything.
Remember, most of my teachers in elementary school wouldn’t even let me read when I had finished my work way before the other kids.
So yeah. Boredom made me a deep thinker. And that has buckets of benefits.
The problem is that there’s no end to that process. There is always more to think about, especially when I can get all the input I want in a steady stream from the internet and all the mental stimulation I want from video games.
Even if I was, via some utterly horrible circumstance, cut off from all fresh input (like, say, being full of tubes in a hospital), there is so much stuff to process in my mental queue that it would take me years to finish
And there’s always another, higher level of processing and integration. Who knows how long it would take me to turn literally everything I know into a single, massive whole.
I am not sure my brain could even index something that size, let alone sustain it.
I am thinking there would be a lot of loss. Everything would get boiled down to its barest essence and a lot of detail would be lost.
But who knows…. maybe what would really happen is I would become Enlightened. All the illusions of separation would melt away, and i would become one with the cosmic wholeness that is the birthright of all sentient beings.
That would be cool.
More after the break.
The secular mystic
You know, looking at that thing about the dragon yesterday and that paragraph about my becoming Enlightened above, you would me forgiven if you concluded that I must be some kind of mystic poet who writes in a room full of clouds of hashish smoke and the the hypnotic drone of a digeridoo.
And I do write that kind of thing in a state of heightened consciousness. The images and words flow freely and I don’t stop to weigh and consider them because I am too caught up in the flow to want to slow down or stop for any reason.
Before I know it, I have spun another dream, and I feel cleansed. That kind of writing uses up a lot of the latent energy I am trying to release into my writing whenever I sit down to blog, and that feels amazing.
Once more : doing things makes me feel better. I have tons of excess energy and if I discharge it via activity, I feel great.
But if I stupidly try to hoard it. it’s like driving with the parking brake on.
Except in this case, I don’t actually get anywhere.
Anyhow, back to magical mystical me. Had I been brought up in any sort of religious tradition, I would no doubt interpret these little poetic outbursts of mine as some form of religious vision sent to me from some supernatural entity.
And while there is a lot to say for thinking of oneself as divinely inspired rather than merely very weird in words, I am still glad to be writing for myself.
Dragging in God or Allah or whoever seems like it can’t possibly be worth it.
And maybe I am a spiritually desolate product of excess Western individualism, but i want all the credit for what I write, god damn it.
None of this “I am but a humble conduit for the Divine Message” bullshit for me. I am not a humble conduit, I’m an amazing fucking writer, and don’t you forget it.
Speaking of the amazingness of my writertness E and D continue to dither about me, and send me notes on the character profile I have been working on, and in general don’t seem to be in a hurry to figure out who is going to write the dang show.
And they have no reason to hurry. This is a side project for them now. They both have real jobs that pay money. They can afford to take it easy.
All it costs them is my nerves. Ha ha.
I’m tempted to just go ahead and write an episode. Maybe not a full length one, though. just a quick little five minute job to let them know how funny and wacky and heartwarming my writing can be.
And how well I handle the themes, plotline, and characters, of course.
Not only would it be a way to show off my mad skillz, it would help me get a sense of how the show comes together as a whole.
Either that, or I will volunteer to write the whole bible for them. I’m tired of dicking around with the character profile.
I thought it just going to be a sample of my writing, but now they are treating it like it’s going straight into the final show bible.
At least they now want me to add the character’s backstory to the profile. And I am looking forward to that. That’s more my style.
But there are also notes to be executed, and that stuff’s a drag, baby.
That’s the job, though. No more getting away with turning in rough drafts. This is the big time and that means working with the bosses until they are happy.
I just wish I was getting paid for all this.
Or at least knew whether I would be paid in the future.
I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.