When I was a child and my mummy still could convince me to turn off even the light on my night table, close the novel and start to sleep, my little mind, still awake, was used to ride a trick to let digest nicely the idea of sleeping to my fears: let's have some visions and get lost in them – this was what my pillow whispered to myself every moon time. So, having a great visionary exercise before the sleep was one of my favourite habitual activity – the cherry on the cake, the gift at the end of the day, every day.
But when I became a teen ager, I lost this great habit… because all of my mind, in any spare time, was lost among damned love thoughts.
Now I'm glad to notify that I'm getting a bit older and wiser, my mind is calmer and the love I feel is not anymore interested in turning me into a labyrinth of blades and blood, so, here we go, my spare time is free again to fly on my visions. Still, usually I let fall my body on the blanket only once I'm totally exhausted, so I just straight to sleep tight each time; but I know it would be lovely to try to sleep a bit earlier sometimes, to enjoy my free visions.
…Anyway, two nights ago it happened again, I went to the bed with still some energies in my mind (thank you, Do), so some visions came to me.
Some of those became thicker and kept to stick to my fluffy neuro-arcade: later I found 'em into my dreams, probably insisting to gain a role by my pencils. The day after I found some hours to grab my pencils and draw them. They told me they wished to be better, but they still thanked me for seeking that time.
|Here you zoom, if you like…|