I write in a journal.
Actually, wait, that’s not accurate.
I don’t have just one journal. I have scraps of paper, I have pages in my reporter’s notebook that have formal interview questions for my journalism class on one page and near diary entries on the other, I have corners of math worksheets, I have a private Tumblr blog, I have Never Stationary, I have Microsoft OneNote, and I have three notebooks in my dorm room that at one point functioned as my primary journal.
But at this moment, I do not have just one journal. I technically have ~12. Continue reading
One day, I’ll have to construct a blanket fort. When I grow up and move out of the house, I’ll have a permanent blanket fort installed in my room. Rods will hang down from the ceiling, in such a way that you can hang blankets on them whenever you desire. There will be no floor, only soft cushions that magically clean themselves of hair, dust, dirt, crumbs, etc. There will be those fun pillows with arms, lots of warm blankets, low tables for setting food and books, and a quality sound system where I can play calm music. I’ll have a little remote that will allow me to dim my lights. My dream bedroom.
Just before I fall asleep at night, I’ll lie in my bed and think about my day. Think about my life, my goals, my fears, my worries. My hair, being as long as it is, will most likely still be slightly damp from my shower, and since I don’t like to feel cold tentacle-like bundles of hair on my neck as I roll around, I’ll gather it up to the top of my pillow and sort of just throw it there. If it’s before midnight, I’ll literally hug the bed, thankful that I get a reasonable amount of sleep. If it’s past 1 AM I’ll be exhausted but the more I think about it, the harder it will be for me to fall asleep.
When I know that I don’t have school the next day, I’ll climb into my bed the happiest girl alive, because sleep is the most glorious activity in the world.
When I put my head down on the pillow, my mind will slip in a subconscious state where there’s never just one thought. A thought will appear, followed by two subthoughts, a doubt, a reassurance, a what-if, a hypothetical, and an affirmation. It’s never just one thought. Your brain is probably already half way to dream-land, where there is no reality and there are no limits.
It’s sort of strange that you’ve met every person in your dreams at some point or another in your life, even in an instance as small as passing them in the street. If they are a primary character, does that mean anything? Generally, I can’t decipher the meanings of my dreams; do they even have meanings, or are they just random, based on the happenings of that day?
I wouldn’t know. While it is true that humans probably do dream every night and more than once in a slumber, you typically only remember the most recent dream you’ve had, prior to waking up. For some reason, I don’t dream when I get minimal sleep. As a result, I haven’t had a dream (that I’ve remembered) in months and months and months. I have the occasional dream during school breaks but those are few and far between.
At this point, I’ll be half-asleep. Then I’ll think a little too hard, realize that I’m falling asleep, and shake myself awake, all subconsciously. If forced to get up to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night, I’ll sleepwalk myself to the bathroom and fall back asleep very well, since the route to my bathroom is so routine and engraved in my brain.
What about lucid dreaming? What’s that like? I’m pretty sure I’ve managed to manipulate my dreams before, but before long, the dream turns into a daydream, which is similar but loses its this-is-really-happening quality that I have come to love about night-dreaming.
What do you call daydreams that you have at night? Is hallucinations too strong of a word? I’ll focus my eyes on a blinking light somewhere in my room. I’ll turn myself into a little burrito of blankets. I don’t like to sleep on my back. I could go to sleep on top of my blankets, but by the time my eyes open the next morning, I’d be tucked snugly under them. I used to think my parents came in at midnight and did that, but then I later learned that it’s fairly easy to carry out whilst fast asleep.
Sleeping is so glorious, really. I look forward to it, but I seldom take naps. It’s sad to go to sleep knowing you only have a few hours to slumber.
My mattress is very soft and my blankets are cool and comfortable. My pillows are always wonderful to sleep on, and if I have time, I’ll watch a TED talk or two before I go to sleep because I like to lie there and think about ambitious goals, lifestyle, and career choices. I like feeling empowered and I like thinking about life’s deepest questions, only to wake up with a mindset as shallow as a water bowl. I hate thinking of creative writing prompts at night, because I know I won’t remember them in the morning. Finally, I hate getting out from under the covers after I’ve already found a comfortable position, because you lose that nice feeling when you have to drag yourself out of the bed. I feel like many people share these similar sentiments.
This has been…a free write about going to sleep. Posted, without rereading for ANYTHING.
I feel like writing words today.
My verbal daydreaming.
The ride home is peaceful, but only in a certain sense. Sitting in the passenger seat, you become oblivious to the person in the driver seat and become lost in a deep pool of thoughts about the past, the present and the future.
The sun is setting and clouds in the sky appear as streaks of pink that gradually fade to purple into dark blue into black.
Looking one direction, you watch the sun gradually make its way towards the horizon. Look the other way, and the moon exists as merely an imprint, still low in the sky, not yet completely established.
You’ll think about your day. What you had for lunch. What your teacher said that made you think of something unrelated to class.
You’ll look at your shoes and take the time to notice details on them. The strings are frayed, the heel is worn. There are streaks on the windshield that you’ve never noticed before. There’s a leaf carefully tucked into the corner of the window, trembling as the wind strikes it, as the car zips down the road.
You’ll look out the window and watch the buildings pass by. You’ll press a finger to the glass and be grateful for once for the warmth inside of the car.
And while all of this takes place, the radio might be on. NPR might drone on about global politics. Rihanna might whine about diamonds. But the voices and sound effects fade into the background, because you are consumed in your musings.
These periods of reflection can be compared to sleeping. From what I’ve read, dreams start a couple of hours after you’ve already fallen asleep. As you have multiple dreams in one night (assuming a full, restful sleep), the dreams get longer and pull you deeper into a trance. Similarly, reflection starts shallow and becomes more substantial. And before you arrive at your destination, you’ve probably had some profound brainblast about the meaning of life, only to be forgotten as you step out of the car, out of your vehicle of reflection.