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I've noticed over the past year or so that I seem to be able to do most of my best writing when I am very sleep-deprived. Biochemists, biologists, behaviorists, and possibly biobehaviorists, if such a label exists, could probably tell me exactly why. I ascribe it to the idea that the Universe is weird.
Right now, being extremely tired is getting me almost nowhere. Which probably proves more of the universe's weirdness.
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Some nights just before I drift off to sleep, I see (with my eyes shut)an almost endless stream of images (I want to grow up and be an artist... I am only 52 so there is lots of time). These images chance and morph as I watch them (no drugs involved btw). I suspect they are all the great works of art I never got to create.
I used think this was wierd till I was talking to Robert Pasternak about it. Seems his girlfriend/life partner has the same thing happen to her.