The ultimatum

This happens every once in a while. I'm trying to sleep, it's all quiet and dark. Then I'm hit, it's an idea. I've been lying here in the dark for what could be an eternity, a comfy eternity at that. I roll over to try and steal my concousness away. This thing isn't going anywhere, my brain should be slowing down, but it's speeding up with questions about this idea. I know it's a good idea, but I have to steal myself away from my slumber and turn on the light. But I don't want to turn on the light, I'll just use my hands to search for a pen and my notebook. Knocking everything in my way. I'm determined, there shall be no light, for if I do, I will wake up and I really, really want to get some sleep.

I open the notebook, I can't see any writing, through my eyes it's a grainy 16mm view of degrees of darkness. No light shall go on, I use my temporary blindness and inspiration by Matt Murdock to scan the pages with my fingers, feeling out the imprints left by a pen, working my way to an empty page. This is taking a while, how many pages have I filled up already? Fucking hell, I can't see anything, I open the curtains, maybe I'll see better this way, I can barely see anything still. I've got to make sure I don't write over any other notes.

Fine, I'll turn on the bloody light. Jot down my one sentence idea and go to bed. Just one sentence, that's it. This isn't Kubla Khan, it's just ten words.

This is a huge decision, where ever I am, I usually have my notebook, but when I'm in bed, this is the deciding factor of whether I want to write or not. I could be throwing away a defining part of my life if I don't write down whatever has spontaneously caffeinated my mind.
It’s not a conscious decision on my part, it is almost as if I can’t rest until this thing can be archived for future reference. I have let some good ideas go, not anymore, although quite honestly I have no idea if the lost ideas are any good, but wishful thinking and all that.