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The Writing HIGH/ Writing High/ The state I’m in I get so high when I write. Not like that other crappy high. This one is a buzz. It leaves me tingling. My temporal lobes pulse, they throb to a delightful beat. I am relaxed. Yet very high. I have insight. I can’t sleep. Yet, unlike the other one, I eventually do. And I sleep fine. And I dream extra fine. Detailed. Psychedelic imagery. Throbbing temporal lobes. Much like mush. Restless leg syndrom. Asleep. Yet, alert. Awake. Yet, dreaming. Oh, what a trippy state. Wow, man, what a buzz. Sometimes I think: am I alive, am I dead, am I dreaming alive or dead? What state am I in? Am I high writing, or writing high? What a state I’m in. I get so HIGH.

The Writing High  

Poem about the exuberance of writing, like being high, naturally high.

The Writing High  

Poem about the exuberance of writing, like being high, naturally high.