Delirium breeds creativity.

The drugs that the doctor gave me yesterday have me feeling like I’m from another planet, or high in a strange, lasting way.  Smoke a joint, and three hours later you’re fine.  Take five mysterious pills every day, and you feel like you’re flying, or floating, or someone else entirely.

Last night I laid in bed and watched the crazy thoughts roll by.  Perhaps it’s all the writing I’ve been doing, but for a long time those strands of thought were nothing but word creations, absolute chaos that somehow made perfect sense.  I wanted to write them down, but I couldn’t sit up.  I thought they might be mildly amusing before the poor reader got a headache.  They seemed profound and fractured all at once.

Talking to people is even strange.  I find that I am filled with benevolence, and that I love conversation, but even as I’m talking or listening, I’m floating away.  Who am I?  What is this?  Is the sun really shining?  Am I actually walking down a street?  I feel like I’m in a strange, prolonged dream.

I can’t wait to feel normal again.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: