This icon is stupid but I don't care
Jan. 27th, 2012 04:37 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kasihyaLast night I woke up at 3:00am from an extremely vivid dream in which Team TARDIS was in that underground place in Artemis Fowl where fairies use chutes to fly up to the surface? And Rory was purple Iron Man and the Doctor had a jetpack and Amy was going chute-diving without any gear on so Rory had to keep flying down to grab her before she reached the lava. I think I might have been River. But the best part was that when I woke up, I was clean. I felt so clean. I don’t have the words to describe it: I was alone in my head without anyone else, but the best part about it was that I also wasn’t me for a few seconds. I had no problems. I was just a simple bit of consciousness having self-contained thoughts. It was really pleasant.
I don’t hear voices, and I’m not trying to say I’m special or unique. But I write: I talk to myself, and I have characters wandering around my head all day. I’m just trying to go about my business, and then I get Critic telling me one thing, and it’s a different brand of thought than what I think of as ‘me’, an ugly brand. And then I spend a whole hell of a lot of time thinking about the stories I’m writing, and trying to understand my characters, and what would they do; why would they act like that; what are their relationships to other characters; why does the world function this way. It’s a conscious decision to let myself spend too much time away from reality, but then, especially at night, I can’t turn it off even if I want to, and it becomes exhausting. Also impedes me from doing any work, because I’ll be reading my textbook and then suddenly Philoctetes pops up, saying, ‘Oh, you should do this! You should go edit this line right now because otherwise you’re going to forget’ and then Unathi chimes in with ‘You’ve got to have me say something different, because there is no way that I would ever say that, and here’s why’ and so forth.
I don’t hear voices, and I’m not trying to say I’m special or unique. But I write: I talk to myself, and I have characters wandering around my head all day. I’m just trying to go about my business, and then I get Critic telling me one thing, and it’s a different brand of thought than what I think of as ‘me’, an ugly brand. And then I spend a whole hell of a lot of time thinking about the stories I’m writing, and trying to understand my characters, and what would they do; why would they act like that; what are their relationships to other characters; why does the world function this way. It’s a conscious decision to let myself spend too much time away from reality, but then, especially at night, I can’t turn it off even if I want to, and it becomes exhausting. Also impedes me from doing any work, because I’ll be reading my textbook and then suddenly Philoctetes pops up, saying, ‘Oh, you should do this! You should go edit this line right now because otherwise you’re going to forget’ and then Unathi chimes in with ‘You’ve got to have me say something different, because there is no way that I would ever say that, and here’s why’ and so forth.
