After a night of bad dreams and insomnia I am not the happiest kid on earth but Chaka Khan soothes the crank in me. My insomnia has been slipping back into my life. I fall asleep fine but am wide awake in the middle of the night. Existential dilemmas are always so much more daunting alone at 4am in bed. I try exercises to get me back to sleep, math equations, Hail Marys, other mantras, I talk to myself and tell myself comforting things but it doesn't matter. For some odd reason I wake up tragic with my heart pounding and struggle to get over it. Days after my night terrors are always a little rough.
I'm looking forward to nine hours of writing this weekend though I know it will be challenging. I won't have the distractions of an internet connection or telephone. There will be many other writers doing the same thing.
I have lots of notes on things I want to write and I'll take them with me to the writing marathon. Yesterday I looked over some old notes and found the beginnings of poems I eventually finished and even put in my chapbook. It was interesting to see them on their original states without any editing or rearranging. I found notes for poems I've been wanting to write. So much, so little. I forget about my voice sometimes but have to remind myself.
Chaka Khan & Rufus