Diamond in the Dunghill

There is a saying... "One must find the Diamond in the Dunghill!" Presumably meaning that we can sometimes find the positive thing amongst the horrendously smelly crappy pile of things. 

I'm thinking, that maybe, with a lot of effort, you can make the dunghill SO BIG that the weight of the dung will create pressures and temperatures high enough to spontaneously create diamonds near the core of the poop mountain.

I think this is a good analogy for this blog. 

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SEVEN! Broken core.

So poor Jojo woke me up at about midnight, in the middle of my core sleep.
This has made my very tired, I'm amazed at how much more tired I am!

Alas my conscious wit has left me here at the table of creativity. But I have drawn some stuff! YAY!

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HIGH FIVE!

So here we are. Day Five. Well.... it's actually day one thousand nine hundred and one.

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Let me tell you a story. 

There once was a small bird named Jimmy, who delighted in feasting up on many worms down by the small lake near the tree that he lived in. Every day he flew down from his nest high in the top most branches of the tree landing on the soft wet mud. 

This one particular day Jimmy was squelching around the sodden earth picking out the small worms. He found a very large very juicy worm and ate it up immediately. It was extremely satisfying and filled his little avian tummy to the brim. Jimmy decided to fly back to his nest for a nap, but he found he couldn't fly for he was too heavy! It seems that last juicy worm had made his belly too unwieldy to take off.

Thinking quickly and not wanting to take a nap in the mud Jimmy decided he would walk. He waddled over to the wide round trunk of his tree. As he walked his little birdie feet become covered even more in sticky mud. He stopped at the base of the tree. He looked at his feet. He looked at the tree. He then stuck one of his mud laden feet on the smooth bark and promptly started to walk straight up the side of the tree all the way to the top branches.

Ignoring this blatant disregard for the laws of physics, Jimmy gently scraped the remaining mud from his toes and sat down in his cosy nest. He had the most deep relaxing nap he had had in days.

The end.

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Coming Fourth into the Darkness

So I currently stand in the dark my face and forearms illuminated by the stark light of my monitors. My quiet keyboard sounds like a 1950s penal colony rock smashing contest and I'm typing super softly! So many people sleeping!

Now as I fumble through my bag for my eye drops as a bear in a garbage bin might search for it's Pharmaceutical remedy for Polyphasic sleep deprivation symptoms...

What am I saying? Bears Hibernate...for like, Months!

I must go, my pixels need me.

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And this keyboard is silent in this all encompassing darkness the same way a baby bird is polite when asking for food.

On the Third Day he ... was sleepy

So...the sleep deprivation associated with Polyphasic adaption has kicked in! YAY!

So I'm not 100% sure what to write about. I have had that same experience as before, where I start thinking of something to write and then don't write it down.

Actually there are two things that I should write down. The first was that at the gym, whilst Wim Hoffing and sitting on my Butt Pillow (I have an injured Coccyx...long story for another 3am chat) I thought about starting to write down an actual story from Twisty Branches. It went something like this in my head:

Twisty awoke with a start as she ripped her sticky drooling face from the expensive leather lounge. Douglas had just returned from his 4am morning run, (incidentally the only time he ever left his apartment) and was nudging Twisty's slumbering body with his left running shoe.
"What are you doing this time? Why are there all these god awful ropes all over you?" 

Twisty sat up shifting a significant amount of hair from her field of view, bring into focus the very camp man in active wear standing akimbo before her."They're part of an important experiment on the sleeping body and how tangled you can get whilst you're asleep. It's for a case." Twisty shook her head for a second time trying to remove the fog from her vision. "How did your run go?" Twisty asked trying to change the subject.
"Don't try and change the subject." Douglas softened his facial expression but his body language remained stubborn.  "I'm worried you're going to strangle yourself with all this nonsense. This case doesn't seem good for you."

"Well see, that's the part that doesn't fit. How did the victims get so tangled up in the branches?! How did they even get up that high in the trees? Who are they anyway?..." Twisty stood up revealing her multicoloured spaghetti impression as the many climbing ropes fell off her. "And what about the birds Doug!?"

"You're a crazy bird!" Douglas's body finally gave in to his face and he turned on his heel and headed for the kitchen.

So there you are... now that's not really what happened in my head at the gym, only the very beginning did. But I wonder if it's any good.... Is this interesting? Does it intrigue? How many ropes where there? Tune in next time on "Nommy's 3am foray into writing things down with his ever-so-quiet keyboard!"

Here we can see possibly one of the worst sketches I have ever done of high end leather furniture. I want to believe that the lack of quality is a direct result of the sleep deprivation, but the horrendous loungey lumps seem to tell a different story.

Here we can see possibly one of the worst sketches I have ever done of high end leather furniture. I want to believe that the lack of quality is a direct result of the sleep deprivation, but the horrendous loungey lumps seem to tell a different story.

The Second Awakening

"The Second awakening!" This is starting to sound like some sort of Cult.

Welcome to the Second Awakening, where we wait in hopeful joy for the coming of Voltimar the Great Asparagus Spear of the Cosmos to return in glory and hollandaise sauce.

But I have woken from my short slumber and been to the gym and Wim Hoffed all over the place and tried and failed to pay attention to my breath behind my belly button.

This is such a weird cult.

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The first Awakening

Ah! So here we are. I have gotten up at 1.30am been to the gym, did the Wim Hoffian lung dance bonanza and also meditated for 20mins on the nature of my thoughts. No real first awakenings there, however I did notice I was lost in thought for a good solid couple of minutes in there!

My internal voice is yelling, "IT'S THREE AM SIMON WHAT THE F*%&?!"... Well it's less of a yelling and more of an exasperated whisper, so that's good. 

So I'm not feeling the sleep deprivation yet, so I'm looking forward to that. I'm also looking forward to my nap. I'm hoping to see some interesting change in my writing as the sleep deprivation slowly hinders my mind and it's faculty for clarity. Although I'm not sure the baseline is very clear, maybe I should get a better pen to draw the baseline.....I wonder if the analogies will get stranger....We shall see...... see like the eyes of a monkey in a research lab fed only on cocaine pills!

Also, by the way, this keyboard is much more pleasant than my old one. It's a pleasure to type on at 3.10am, it's less like a tap dancing chicken and more like a bunch of soft bodied bugs doing a 1950s rock and roll dance recital.

Now I must go and keep myself awake for a further one hour and 49 minutes! ONWARD TO WAKEFULLNESS UNTIL NAPTIME.

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