I started writing a story. I can’t believe I started it seven years ago. The characters wander around in my head & do things; and occasionally I find time to write down what they’ve been up to.
I feel like I have very little control over them and they lead a life of their own.
It’s quite odd really – these people have lived with me for all these years and they feel like friends. I have had conversations with them – heard their troubles – invested in their lives – provided solutions to their problems – shared their dilemmas – kept their secrets.
But they are not real.
I hope in 2017 I will complete the story and the process will allow me to release my friends to torment others.
Reference: Six Characters in Search of an Author – Luigi Pirandello
I suffer from, or maybe a better term “experience”, a lot of bizarre thoughts just before I fall asleep. I wish I could harness these thoughts and ideas as they are curious, intriguing, bewitching and enlightening. However – to record them would perhaps entail a level of conscious action that would negatively impact on the ideas themselves.
I retain a certain amount of the thought the next day – but like a dream it is tantalisingly lost in a mist of uncertainty. I can try to fill in the gaps – but it never has the same quality.
I have considered using the voice recorder on my phone to record the fleeting moments and then try to decipher them the next day. But am too embarrassed at what they might contain to have my partner hear. It is enough that I subject him to snores and sleep mutters without the bizarre ramblings of my uncensored mind.
An example would be the night I prepared a routine for being a stand-up comic. It was great, I used and developed upon a range of true stories from my childhood – the potential was definitely there (and based upon a few I have shared at the office to my colleagues’ amusement – honest) led me to believe it was perhaps possible. However, my parents could never be in the audience as they have no idea about what I used to get up to.
So I am left with this drifting belief that I have a kind of mid-conscious creativity desperately trying to find a way out – searching for a gap between the realms, to seep into the real world, to be shared across minds. Yet I am utterly failing to release the ideas and give them freedom. Hence my attempt at a blog.
Perhaps here I can put the snippets together until a picture, direction or fully fledge idea can form. Then I can truly consider my mid-conscious ramblings to be something– and liberate my sanity.