Nocturnal originality

I am nocturnal. It’s 2am and although I try so hard to be sleeping, sleep is like an ex-lover you’re having a difficult time trying to forget. So there and yet… so far away.

This time of night the activity in my brain is on overdrive and balls of thoughts bounce around my head like in a ball pit.

Thoughts of the past, thoughts of the future, thoughts of life, living, and yes, even thoughts of death like to find their way into the crevasses of my mind that is fragile and absorbent at night. Between the barking of neighborhood dogs and the occasional car cruising by, the night offers me a calm that is all but impossible to find in the day time.

A calm that is multiplied in the darkness of my room intruded only by the glow of my laptop’s screen brightening my face and offering life to details you don’t notice in the light.

If I close my eyes the soft halo of light is still visible, and the thinking doesn’t grow any more quiet. I think about dreams, ones I’ve seen and ones to be had. I relive memories that are all but forgotten, and I think about the oddest of sensations. (Till date the strangest feeling has been getting stitches in my foot…with anesthesia there was no pain, only the dry pull of thread through skin.

Sometimes, my inability to sleep leads to pieces of creativity, phrases that happen and that are forgotten from a moment to nothingness…like…”taffy kisses on salt-water lips” and the sadness I feel at forgetting is so brief because so many ideas are lost. So many thoughts drowned, so much thinking done and shredded.(Why all the beach analogies?)

Lately, I’ve been thinking about heavy things….but this isn’t the place or time to expose my internal workings of the mind (and in this precise moment, they all escape me. how very odd indeed). The mind betrays you so much. Leads you to remember false things, makes you live a lie that you think is so true. Indulging in regrets, or maybe evading them.

Why so vague? Why so cryptic? Where is sleep when you most need it.

There was this time, once, in 5th grade when I was having a sleep over with a friend. It was late for me (close to midnight if I remember correctly) and she was telling me a story, while I was falling asleep and I stopped responding, she talked and talked and I was sleeping but I knew I could still hear her…except when she jolted me out of my half sleep, everything she said disappeared. Like magic behind the swiftest of fingers.

The beauty of thinking at this time is the breadth of my cognitive processing – stretching and bending with acrobatic feats I hadn’t conceived up but that lead to its own discovery. But following these trails of thought is like leaping from one black cloud  to another – like losing myself in cotton candy. Crystallized sugar memories melting into a brilliant pink. Or grey.

I have memories of cotton candy. From a birthday party. I wonder if I could still be mesmerized by watching sugar spin.

There are no bread crumbs to track my thoughts, it’s been like hopping across water on crocodile heads that have the tendency to swim down beneath where it is murky. I fall into lapses and time creates a loop confusing me over five minutes that could be ten seconds, or time just enough for three dreams.

I wonder, when my head clears and I re-read my ramblings, if any of this will make sense or if I’ll think I turned into Alice and everything is shrinking, or was it growing? Or was it both.

How great would it be if mind filters were real tangible things, and in the morning you could sift through bits and pieces of soot and gold and maybe find keys to deeper understanding of … everything.

Sometimes, being human is so limiting. Not sometimes. A lot of times. Mostly all the time really. I wonder if I could find my way into a Neo like matrix with codes and clear seeing of what is reality and what are constructs that we have built. (Where would the internet fall in?)

There was this movie from the 90s..Inner Space it was called (maybe) and it had me questioning – is the extension of our orbit to milky ways and galaxies as deep as the inner workings of our bodies? Oh fingers and brain – how you fascinate me!

(Is anyone keeping up with me?) Maybe this will be the beginning to my Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance (but a I’d use a different title obviously) –  the realization that we are all on the brink of insanity. Are you brave enough to acknowledge it?

The time on my computer suggest it’s been 48 minutes of typing and pausing, and now, I’m going to Google “late night ramblings” just to add an image that I hope will be interesting:



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