I don’t know about anyone else but my brain is one hell of a joker. I don’t know how many times I get the most amazing ideas or have the most awesome days occur and it all turns out to be a dream. A dream that my mean old brain won’t even let me grasp the most minor of details from. Don’t get me wrong sometimes it likes to play nice and I get hit by the inspiration stick hardcore, hence a few of my earlier posts like Writing Dangerously and Handwritten, but for the most part it leaves me with a 20 second time frame. 20 seconds to do a mental sprint through my waning memory in order to pick out a few dusty old rocks that hopefully turn into the literary gems I imagined them to be. I guess that’s just the nature of my creative process.