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Disclaimer: The following blog post contains some bad word(s). If you are easily offended by foul language, I suggest you change the channel now. I think it would be responsible to remind you also that if you’re not at least 21 years of age, you may want to click somewhere else, anywhere else, to avoid irretrievably tainting what’s left of your developing mind. With all this said, and knowing you’ve been forewarned, here goes something.
I wanted to find out what it would be like to blog when I’m feeling like I could be going to sleep. It was something that could be fun, or so I thought.
When you get ready to fall asleep, when your mind is drifting off to that la-la land deep inside your head, your mind starts doing all of the fucked up things it controls when you are fully conscious. Your mind is the one piece of hardware in your body that truly does have a mind of its own, especially when the physical body is too powerless with fatigue to control it.
The closest I can come to describing the juvenile mind recklessly out of control and on the warpath during conscious, daylight hours is to ask if you’ve seen the movie, Jackass Presents: Bad Grandpa. Johnny Knoxville does the kind of juvenile things your mind wants to do but never does because it’s too busy reining itself in, especially during the day.

This is what head shrinkers call impulse control. That we can control our impulses where it effectively stifles our creativity and wellbeing is both sad and necessary; sad for when we’re just not having fun because we think we’ll embarrass ourselves if we try swinging in the empty swing chair on the playground that we walk past; necessary for CEO’s who want to keep their $5,000,000 annual salaries by playing it safe and acting like boring automatons so as not to disturb napping stockholders.
We all play it safe during the day. Sure, there are times when we act crazy during the day. But typically we want to be discrete or private when we are acting foolishly. The old saying nothing good ever happens after 10 p.m. (used to be midnight, but cray crays instigated moving the time up two hours) hasn’t been around for like forever due to nothing.
Full moons come out and emergency rooms fill up with people sleepwalking and talking gibberish.
If only they had been tired enough to fall asleep and just let their minds run wild as they slept.
When you’re forced to go on low amounts of sleep or no sleep at all, at the least you can get pretty spacy. You do things like hit the button to start the coffee maker when you haven’t even put coffee or water in it. You walk out of the house without your wallet, pull over halfway to work and yell things like, “Motherfucker! I know you’re in here somewhere!”
The mind needs to let loose. That’s why everyone knows the best parties are held at night. Even if you didn’t do drugs or alcohol to help you loosen up, you’ll still probably have a better time at parties during the evening hours. Lunch time parties can be quaint, but musicians greatly favor night gigs over lunch ones for good cause—the crowd is ready to party and have a good time.
When I get ready to fall asleep I think about stuff like guys who lay out (somewhere) the night before, what they’ll wear tomorrow and how if I did something like that, my cat, if I had one, would crawl atop the neatly laid out clothes and piss all over them. This is why I never lay out my clothes the night before. Another thought, who has space to lay out clothes anyway? I mean, I’ve got a bed and a small chair; that’s pretty much it.

I was thinking last night, before I went to bed, about the time back in the day I told some Chicago friends how (although I hoped I was wrong), they’d be disappointed the Bears acquired Jay Cutler. Having seen firsthand his lack of ability to inspire confidence when his Broncos-led teams were trailing in the fourth quarter, I knew something was wrong.
These are some of the things I can think of when I’m tired and before I go to bed. The lack of genius that occurs throughout most of my days is no more as I’m drifting off to sleep at the end of the day. Then, my thoughts, my ideas, are unprecedented with their wit, intelligence and one of a kind storytelling—the time when I am ruler of the creative universe and just before I begin talking to the crocodiles at the foot of my bed who would eat me up before I go to pee.
The end (and safely before 10 o’clock, too).

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