Burning the 5am oil.

I’m not used to insomnia.

This is unusual for writers, from what I’ve heard. Creative sorts and their minds whirring and chugging away, refusing to switch off. If anything I was the opposite: a hypersomniac. Life gets tiring pretty easily, and it’s so easy to sleep too much. When I was in the 6th Form, my history teacher was convinced I was either suffering from either anaemia or narcolepsy. Consequently, irregular sleep patterns are the norm for me. Recently, though, I’ve been having trouble sleeping, and staying asleep.

Tonight, though, it’s through no fault of my own. It’s hard to sleep when drunken housemates arrive with an entourage at 4am.

I guess the silver lining to this is that I’m writing a blog entry. Even if it’s not about anything particularly interesting. Well, it could be. Let’s see.

Something that seems to have coincided with this change in my circadian rhythms is that I dream a lot more. Or at least, vividly enough to remember them afterwards. It’s reminded me that I wanted to write a story involving dreams at one point. In particular, the idea of connecting with something intrinsically human when you dream. An archetypal subconscious, something that is shared between people unknowingly. That every night you bare your soul to humanity only to forget it when you

 

…Sorry, I lost my train of thought when I heard something break downstairs. Back now.

Hopefully I’ll think to write here more often, and my bits and pieces will get more interesting. We’ll see.

Moonlit musings.

Good morning everyone, I do believe it’s stupid o’clock.

I’m involuntarily pulling an all-nighter since my brain is refusing to curl up and sleep; so what better to do than to write? I should really be using it as an opportunity to knuckle down to some physics work… But an extra ten minutes procrastination never did any harm, right?

Talking of procrastination, today I finally decorated my room at University with photos. With only about eight weeks of term remaining. Still, better late than never, and I’m planning on recycling them for my room next year, so all is well.

Derailing that train of thought like a well-aimed cow is guilt concerning my lack of writing. As you may have noticed from previous posts, I have been intending to write some more poetry or fiction for a while now. However, there is a rather unhelpful veil between intents and actions which I seem to have gotten tangled up in lately. The fact is, I’ve been finding it difficult to write. Entries like this don’t pose as much of a problem, but they’re not nearly as enjoyable as an act of creation. I’m not one to believe in Writer’s Block, as I don’t feel as if I have a block specifically where writing is concerned. It feels much more general – as though a mixture of tiredness, illness, work and other obstacles continually pop up between my pen and the page. And everything else I find remotely interesting.

To other writers out there, tips to help ensure regular writing will be much appreciated!

I’m planning on trying to getting into the habit of writing morning pages (for those who have not heard of this exercise, have a look at http://www.theartistsway.com/ or the original book by Julia Cameron). However, in the past I have found it extremely difficult to cultivate as a habit, as I’ve found that writing three A4 pages of stream-of-consciousness can be a challenge even at the best of times.

For now, perhaps I should concentrate on climbing my ever-increasing pile of Physics-related work. Hopefully, I will be back soon… watch this space!

The Post Office:

Disclaimer:

'Quintconsequential' is a word of my own invention, despite the definition in the style of the Oxford English Dictionary featured on the site. By all means, use it, whisper it, shout it from the rooftops. But please, remember that you heard it here first!