Sleep (Part II)

I like to read the things I write, several days after, so that I'm certain they make sense and don't have ridiculous little errors that spell check doesn't catch. I have this tendency to put "my" instead of "me" or be redundant in my word choice. I'm also the queen of run-on sentences, but that might be a lost cause. Blame it on my poetic nature. In poetry, punctuation and sentence structure are more flexible. I don't know if any English teachers agree with that comment, so don't quote me.

To make a long story a little shorter, I was reading through my post, titled Sleep, when a few more thoughts popped into my head. So, instead of calling it a night after my last post, I decided to add another. Again, this is for my own amusement, not brownie points. I'll probably add, at least, two more posts before the end of this week. The word count quota is not going to be an issue for me. The sad part of this is that I talk to people much the same way. My conversations are always longer than necessary, the subjects bounce all over the place, and I'm sure I speak in run-on sentences.

Okay, to get back to my point, I was reading my posts and had some new ideas to add and thought it would be a stellar example of how a previous written work can foster expanded thoughts or new ideas. No, really, I'm not brown nosing. I swear!

In the first Sleep post, my sleep deprivation, and my subsequent inability to capture flow, made me realize how important a nap could be as a writing tool. Obviously, sleep is imperative for brain function, but dreams in themselves could be excellent idea boosters. It was reading this that I got to thinking about the moments right before the world goes dark. It's those moments, between conscious thought and subconscious thought, where my weird little mind gets free reign. It's like the veil between two worlds disappears, and suddenly, my conscience has access to my sub conscience's restricted files. Things that I would never think of, were I lucid, pop into my head like wildflowers in a field; colorful, but no rhyme or reason. Some of these thoughts are important, but not likely to be remembered (Memo to self: pick up a bottle of dressing. I used the last of what I had today.), but most of it is total nonsense (How many licks DOES it take to get to the tootsie roll center of a tootsie pop?). The craziest part is when one of those nonsense thoughts goes off on a tangent (Why does that kid let an owl steal his sucker? My kids never turn loose their candy, even to other humans. That makes no sense. Oh yeah, memo to self: buy a bottle of Goo Gone to remove chewing gum from livingroom carpet. Don't forget the dressing. Mmmmm, chicken ceasar salad! Too bad I didn't have croutons. Why do I find stale bread so tasty? I don't find spoiled meat tasty. But then again, cheese is just spoiled, moldy milk, and cheese is tasty.). Fade to black.

Again, I reiterate, sleep is a wonderful writing tool. Think of all the ideas that come from it! I could write a definition essay on the making of cheese, the wonders of Goo Gone, or on technicolor candy advertising! We should definately practice this in class! How many ideas can you gain from a pre-slumber brainstorming session? The world may never know!