Just to recap:
The idea: to spent five minutes before bed time to write down the first creative writing idea that comes in to my mind in unadulterated form. Writing can be about any subject, can be prose or poetry. What is important to remember is that whilst in a sleepy mood a person is more likely to make grammatic or spelling mistakes, and less likely to censor themselves, or to make sense in what they write unlike if they were to write earlier in the day when more alert.
I am in a songwriting mood so I shall write you a story instead. Maybe not a story (takes too long) so it'll have to be a wee bit of creative writing / stream of consciousness stuff - is that okay? I hope so.
I'm tired. My eyelids are getting heavy...... and 1, 2, 3, I'm back in the room.. wow. What happened there?
When I close my eyes I can see different shades of pink. Different light patterns and shadows - or what I consceive to be light patterns and shadows - make me think there is more than a subtle change in tone and colour - but it could be mental imagery interfering with my experience of closing my eyes and looking at the inside of my eyelids. I'm quite serious about documenting this.
I've just realised its the after image of the window in my room thats affecting the light and shadows I see when my eyes close.
I can smell bacon.
I haven't cooked any.
My son is in his bedroom, playing.
I'm noticing that certain letters I write are like how my mum wrote them. The g's in the middle or end of words.
What plays on my mind?
Sometimes I like to write in black ink, and sometimes I like blue ink.
It depends on my emotion I think.
How I'm feeling as I'm writing - or is that all nonsense?
I notice that I also write certain letters like my music teacher at school and as I think of her the letters and style I copied from her writing all those years ago I'm writing without intending.
It's getting all sloppy handwriting now.
Think I'd better tidy up.
Yeah.
yeah.
My stomach hurts.
Feels like theres a keg of
moon rocks waiting to go off
in there.
like sherbet.
William Burroughs just got up from the sofa to put his tea cup and saucer on the side. He had his hat on and blue trousers and a grey suit jacket on. My eyes were closed for not very long.
Think I'm starting to dream - I'm already in the visual stage - early closing eyes, waiting for the Sand man to carry me off in to dream world. Maybe that Burroughs dream would've been excellent. Won't know now. UGH!"
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