The great thing about sleep is sensuous anticipation. Why else would we pre-empt the Grim Reaper and temporarily inhabit his tomb between midnight and 07.00? Fatigue? Let's not be dully quotidian. The great thing about wakefulness is thought. That oft-neglected facility by which we cuddle up to the undefinable. With which we make our metaphorical bed and lie on it, knowing there will be no ruckled-up sheets to hinder Grand Conclusions.
But do I think enough? When Descartes averred thought proved his very existence that may have been all very well for a French cleverclogs but I'm not the father of analytical geometry. Should I think more? Is there a mental gymnasium where I can do exercises?
I could read testing stuff but the Bible's against it. If you regularly watch Pointless, take heart from "Of making many books there is no end, etc, etc." There are cryptic crosswords but they're a knack, best served by a long commute - Folkestone to Waterloo in my case in 1972. These days I drive and the knack has flown.
Should I dwell on massive conundrums like What Is Life? Forget that one for a starter. In a flash it becomes Che Faro? and I'm left wondering whether Dame Janet's version might be a little too plummy. Quantum mechanics is a tighter, challenging microworld but the entry fee is too high.
Build on what I've got then? Mate journalistic experience with an over-inflated ego. Hey, there's something there! Should I interview myself, asking sneaky questions and jumping on inadequate answers? Are you vain RR? --- Then what about the 5/2 diet? Do you dream futilely of Susan Sarandon? -- Futilely, I said.
And if the process proves irksome, there’s always sleep. Nasty thought – was I born only for oblivion?
This post is a garden of linguistic delights."Ruckled-up sheets," "French cleverclogs!" I would love to read how you answered yourself in an interview with yourself.
ReplyDelete"...thought. That oft-neglected facility by which we cuddle up to the undefinable."
ReplyDeleteThat thought snagged my attention and is visiting every nook, cranny and convolution of my brain. It is a delight, Robbie; thank you.
I feel quite sure that you talk (beautifully) in your sleep.
ReplyDeleteColette: Thanks for that, both those usages have regional roots. In a sense I'm lucky I never got as far as sixth form, let alone uni; words/phrases like those would probably have been discouraged.
ReplyDeleteCrow: Your delight is my constant concern.
Marly: Sleep-talk wouldn't count, it's uncontrolled. What I yearn for is iron-girt control.
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ReplyDeleteIron-girt... Iron is the most common metal, isn't it? But hard, yes. Top of the chain of being for metals would be gold. Perhaps gold-girl? Softer but higher...
ReplyDeleteThe Crow: Awww, you've deleted. I liked that old-fashioned word. But you're the boss and my earlier sentiment remains unchanged.
ReplyDeleteMarly: Nah, gold's for show-offs; iron arrives trailing metaphors as well as its place in the periodic table.
The third syllable is "girt" (past participle of "gird") not "girl". I'm experimenting with certain Shakespearean favourites, seeing whether they deserve another walk in the park. I know he's death at the box-office but I think he deserves all the help I can offer.