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