Thoughts to words

Or can I say, thought convalescence to words… that point, that silent point, your mind *ting* the clarity, the openness, the reality of it all.

I’m talking about those intermittent days, when you decide to come home early on a Friday night, and out of boredom, climb into bed early, say half 8.
Well, you rarely sleep before midnight (talking about those over-active brains that think, think, think) you reckon you can trick the brain, ‘let me close my eyes, let me think of a calm sea, let me close my eyes and smile, stay still, and sleep will come eventually’

And so you sleep, or so you think…

11.30pm – you wake up, or rather, your mind wakes up. The house is silent, your mind is not.
Thought one; I was thinking about marketing, and how having a roadside booth, with a pretty (yet) effective lad or lass (yes, I used the ‘yet’ clause, simply because so many pretty faces feel like the world owes them, they surf through life with disaffected attitudes and permanent sneers of disdain on their faces, and only brighten up when constantly preened “how gorgeous you are, my darling” and like cats that have been slowly but rhythmically stroked, undulate, unfurl their delicate paws, yawn ever so slightly, and purr contentedly.
But I digress. The marketing booth with the efficient clerk behind the desk. Her smile is bright, or too bright, you think, as soon as she sees you, she springs up, as if in reflex, and goes on to say “can I help you sir?”
You smile faintly, you smile more in response to her countenance than to what she is really saying, you reckon her response has not been terribly ruined by vanity, ‘one more, yet!’ you silently say to yourself. Efficiency undergirded by looks.
You regard her silently as she effectively commands her space, you appreciate her concise execution of task, one after the other as she tells you, with a smile, about the products she is promoting. You feel relaxed at this point, you eagerly inquire about different products. You do this just to prod more, to find out if the EFFECTIVE that sprung up to you when you first strode into the booth still carries. To confirm to yourself, or to placate that furtive voice in your head that screams ‘one wrong thing! She is going to say one wrong thing! And the pile of checkers is going to collapse’
But it doesn’t.
Simple booth. Superlative efficiency. Product sold.

Thought two - …


I have always thought to myself that ideas come in ones sleep. This has always been a truth in itself for me. I always get a solution to that complex algorithm in the morning after a good night’s sleep during which I think of various ways to handle the algorithm. Usually at 5am. I smile delightedly to myself that whoever is next to me-in the rare occurrence that they are-or that they are awake at the time and watching me sleep (very rare)… regard me in bewilderment.
I stride into the office, sit on my computer, select all those lines of unnecessary code and neatly type the solution down. And when that happens, my day is done!

I have always believed that it’s good, (healthy practice like that dentist says, about flossing after every meal, wearing his spotless white gown and demonstrating the best flossing technique yet), to sleep with a notepad next to you. You never know, somehow, your mind and your fingers might flow in tandem and you may be able to make that mind- finger connection, that plug into socket connection, energy flowing from one end to the other, synapses transmitting from one to the next.
Yes! That connection. The clarity, the whiteness, the completion of the process, when you write down what has been whirling through your mind, that whirl that woke your mind up long enough to blur the lines between consciousness and sub-consciousness.
You ought to articulate your thoughts immediately because, come morning, the urgency of other thoughts ‘I am going to be late for work’, ‘how will I handle the traffic this morning’, ‘that report is due today’ take precedence.
I believe that at some point in time, our minds give us leverage to think of things that we may have otherwise regarded trite, and it’s these ideas, these mind forms of expression that we need to translate on paper, not so much those we consciously think about.