Renaissance Insomnia and the Bunnies That Be
Oh the tired irony that since I’ve begun working for a journal called S____ M_______ I’ve developed a brawny insomnia. Last night it was dark except for the alarm clock and for hours I lay there, eyes stretched tight open, brain sparking in memory of warm past events and devising ways to put them in written word. This was not another rageful night of insomnia and MNOTS; my brain was just excited about life, but unfortunately during hours when I needed to sleep so that I wouldn’t trip and err all day at work and life, which at 8:30am I’d already accomplished twice in one shot. I suppose I’ll need to readjust to accept an alternate day-night pattern and sleep at rare hours. I like my brain excited. Anyway, stories of past events to come, willy nilly.
At first I thought I was having a renaissance appreciation of The Shins' Chutes Too Narrow. Then I realized I’d never properly appreciated it--its melodies catch and its lyrics keen.
Then I realized I never really properly appreciate music in the first stage, after realizing that I receive new music in two stages:
1. Lennie stage (as in Of Mice and Men): I like soft things furry things, melody that carries me and harnesses no thought--it doesn't even occur to me to listen distinctly; I like the ups and downs and turns of guitars and voice, the heartbeat drum thump and levitating in it. (One of my before-I-die fantasies is to levitate.)
2. George stage: I begin to hear and absorb the words and see from where the writer might be writing, and revel in the deeper and sometimes new places the words take me to.
When I was in high school I noticed this bi-stage listening pattern with regard to songs here and there, but only this morning did see that it’s pattern absolute. When I noticed it in high school, always the songs I gravitated to in Lennie stage impressed me intellectually, too, in George stage, which indicates a strong relationship between content and form inherent in the source. What do you think, Doctor?
The Doctor thinks...
I think she needs to sleep more.
I think she needs a chipotle enema.
I think she lost her skirt in the printer.
I think the chicken’s on fire. Two aspirin.
At first I thought I was having a renaissance appreciation of The Shins' Chutes Too Narrow. Then I realized I’d never properly appreciated it--its melodies catch and its lyrics keen.
Then I realized I never really properly appreciate music in the first stage, after realizing that I receive new music in two stages:
1. Lennie stage (as in Of Mice and Men): I like soft things furry things, melody that carries me and harnesses no thought--it doesn't even occur to me to listen distinctly; I like the ups and downs and turns of guitars and voice, the heartbeat drum thump and levitating in it. (One of my before-I-die fantasies is to levitate.)
2. George stage: I begin to hear and absorb the words and see from where the writer might be writing, and revel in the deeper and sometimes new places the words take me to.
When I was in high school I noticed this bi-stage listening pattern with regard to songs here and there, but only this morning did see that it’s pattern absolute. When I noticed it in high school, always the songs I gravitated to in Lennie stage impressed me intellectually, too, in George stage, which indicates a strong relationship between content and form inherent in the source. What do you think, Doctor?
The Doctor thinks...
I think she needs to sleep more.
I think she needs a chipotle enema.
I think she lost her skirt in the printer.
I think the chicken’s on fire. Two aspirin.
4 Comments:
I believe I've tried most of these. And I decided that vicodin and wine wasn't a good idea, kind of like Slim Fast doesn't seem like a good weight loss option: what, are you going to eat crappy milkshakes twice a day for the rest of your life? No, vicodin 'n' wine is not a healthy lasting remedy. I have an ugly funny story about one time I tried to drink myself to sleep after I'd tried everything else I could think of while in grad school. Thanks for the suggestions, Kate. I think Valerian root is the only one I haven't done. Onward...
What's never failed me when I have sleeping woes is to lie there and focus on, and envision, an image of ball lightning in my head. If I had the mental discipline I'd either completely wipe my mind blank or imagine a concentrated pinpoint of light. However I don't, so instead the ball lightning thing works for me since it requires much more concentration (to keep the whole thing relatively still and all the little tendrils from lashing outwards). I'm assuming it maybe tires my brain out and thus lets me rest?
Thanks. I have given this type of thing a whirl. Someone once suggested starting with a blank canvas in my mind and painting a picture in there until falling asleep. Within a split, though, second my mind is off somewhere else. I’ll try again, however--it irks me when that kind of meditative concentration eludes me.
that's the problem with the band the Shin's. i get confused easy.
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