I slept really badly last night. The kind of sleep in that, when thinking about it, you’re not sure about the parts of your ‘dream’ you were awake for, the parts you weren’t, and those parts when you dream in your dreams (elevator just hit B1) and you wake up feeling exhausted.
Anyway, At some point I got up and wrote the following down. I remember some of it really clearly, but I know there was more to this. It has given me an idea I might run with for the short story assignment I have due in for December – given I haven’t got anything else idea wise for it, it’s on the short list in any case. If it doesn’t make the cut, then I guess it will either end up here somewhere or get stored away in a mental toolbox.
Wake up after hearing banging. Convince self it wasn’t the sound of someone knocking and I was dreaming.
Thinking again, and have the vision of a girl banging her fists on my first floor window. She’s pretty, but there’s something wrong with her. It’s in her eyes. I just know this.
Half in sleep, the girl appears in the room and asked if I had heard about a monster in the night.
I see its silhouette and I understand it’s in my room with me – but I don’t care. I roll over.
I’m dreaming again – I think….
I’m in a classroom. I see the girl, but no one else does. She teaches me that I can unplug things to make them run. ‘Take away the power and things will work.’
I see all the plugs have been pulled loose, but all the computers are still on with glaring white screens.
People don’t get why I’m laughing.
I don’t know why I’m laughing.
I forgot that I wrote this until I came back to my room about an hour ago and saw I had a Word document open. I wish I was subconsciously this proactive in recording lunacy and fantasy all the time. Maybe I should go back to sleep deprivation to fuel a fresh bout of crazy prose?
Speaking of, I had been thinking about what really constitutes madness over the last week or so. Ironically, I want to understand something that doesn’t follow rules or adhere to reason. So far, I can only say that it does seem to be a commonly a solitary path. I wonder if I will let go and walk it someday, or if I will find a reason to reaffirm my grip on reality. I’m not even sure why I’m so interested in tapping into a reservoir of insanity, or if it’s a good idea. I don’t think there’s much choice in it though, is there? Self-awareness is so overrated…. (B2 – Are we in too deep?)
I leave you with this – a quote that set the train of thought in motion (and later perhaps provoked this strange scrawl in the night):
“Men have called me mad; but the question is not yet settled, whether madness is or is not the loftiest intelligence– whether much that is glorious– whether all that is profound– does not spring from disease of thought– from moods of mind exalted at the expense of the general intellect.” – Edgar A. Poe
Listening To: The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya OST
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