So my head’s been so full of stuff of late. I keep having ideas for a post or a tweet or a story and then, through fatigue or distraction or otherwise pre-occupiedness, not following them up and then forgetting them entirely. I really need to keep a log. In the middle of the night I can usually find a pen and paper, but these random sudden thoughts pop into my head when it’s the least convenient.
Then it occurs to me forgotten ideas are probably not the best ones. I know Samuel Taylor Coleridge was interrupted a bit of the way through dreaming (huhmmm) up Xanadu, (in his poem Kubla Khan not the Olivia Newton-John film) but is it such a great loss? And my ideas are most likely not on a par with his works composed on any late Thursday afternoon. The idea I’m trying to get at, though, is, if it’s gone, it’s gone baby. Coleridge never did quite forgive himself or his untimely visitor for supposedly ruining his work. But his fragment is a classic nonetheless. And that’s ok. Time for him and me to move on. Sadly for him, it’s a bit late. What with his death in 1834 (come on that is not a spoiler).
Anyhoo, some ideas fade away like disturbing dreams, they seem real for a while and leaving you feeling a bit weird, but then you wake up and get on with your day. So I’m getting on with my writing, because I know more ideas will come. They might even stick around and be better than whatever I thought was so clever and profound in the first place. And if they’re not I won’t know because whatever I’d imagined first, I’ve forgotten. Say la vie.