Why you should not write when your brain is half-dead

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This is something I wrote on a certain Sunday night, after a very very long day. And it will forever remind me not to write with a tired brain on a night like that. I still wonder what exactly I was thinking……… but see for yourself.

“At many moments in our lives, we’re not really sure of what exactly we want. And right now is not one of those moments. Right now I cannot be more convinced of what I want. I crave only one thing; sleep. It’s 10:00pm on a Sunday. Not so late in the night, right? But my body does not seem to agree. My mind…….that one’s been shut down for at least an hour so far. I want to sleep. It’s very straightforward. I want to sleep.

The mere fact that that I’m instead here, scribbling away on a white page that’s probably less blank than my mind, means that I’m not a go-getter. I’m not setting goals and obviously not being aggressive enough in reaching for my dreams.

Get up, Lydia, follow your heart.

Stumble over to that rectangular thing covered with a pink blanket – why is the blanket pink? I don’t like pink!

Lydia, focus.

Keep your mind fixed on your goal, do not give up till you achieve it. Lie on your bed. Pull the covers around you – oh no, there’s the mosquito net. Why do we have to use stupid nets?? Why is Uganda such a hospital habitat?

Keep calm, Lydia, move on.

Just throw the net on, and throw yourself in. That’s all. There you are; warm, snug, safe. But wait a second. Something’s not right. Instinct tells me something’s out of place. I look for it grudgingly, and it hits me; I am able to look for whatever it is because there’s light. Yeah. The light’s on.

Move out of bed, Lydia, it won’t take a second. You know you won’t sleep right when that bright light’s on.

I edge out slowly, like a frightened cat. I stagger to the switch – why is the switch so far away from my bed?

No, no, Lydia, don’t let that get to you.

That’s a blessing, it means your room is of reasonable size. Fine, I’m there now. I’ve turned the light out. But why can’t I find the way back to my bed?”

 

That’s as far as I could go before just totally blacking out. The next time I ever opened my eyes was late the next morning; Monday morning. Well, thank God for “vacation”. I can wake up exceedingly late on a Monday and not receive death threats from an obese boss who has no emotions apart from love; love for money.

On the most boring topic ever; yes, weather!

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As young children we were taught four weather conditions; rainy, sunny, windy and cloudy. I now feel compelled to object to this, not because I’ve grown up and no longer find it useful to believe my primary school teachers, but because this monster called global warming has created some strange, new weather condition. Moody. That’s the name. That’s the weather condition that’s like a disgusting meal made of all sorts of ingredients that don’t match. It shines like crazy. Then the wind comes whooshing about and hurls all the dust into our eyes, and onto our painstakingly washed clothes. Suddenly it feels like it simply must rain, and though we are all excited because it has been obscenely hot, the rain also unlocks its own kind of heat. Some sort of steam rises straight from the earth’s crust and scalds us mercilessly. And the cloudy part of the weather is mixed in somewhere, somehow.

This means that, on a sad note, I no longer have the privilege of naming the weather condition on a certain day. We used to do that in school, at the teacher’s command, because that was the best way of testing whether we had understood the topic or not. I wonder what the little kids do now when the teacher asks what the weather has been on a particular day. They probably first furrow their little brows in thought and then the little hands abruptly shoot up, ready to give answers.

“Teacher, it’s rainy!”

“Sunny!”

“Windy!”

“Cloudy!”

They then stare intently at the teacher, waiting for the correct answer. He stares back, realizing that he’s as confused as they are.

“Members,” he says, “let us go to the next topic!”