my late nights are almost extinct now, since my eyes stay open well past sunrise. its a rush to be awake to see the sun take a full 360 of the planet.
but then, around 9am, the weird half hallucination thing begins, where its not as if im really hallucinating, but its as if i am awake and i am asleep, dreaming, at the same time. it is strange, and it feels like a high.
which further makes me feel as if i am searching for ways to feel different from myself.
alcohol and his friends have been emptied out of my system, so am i just relapsing onto a different high? messed up, no? yes.
however, these very long nights that melt into days and somehow again into nights, and so on vicious circle and all, they seem to actually give me extra hours.
as if i may not run out of time as fast as i anxiously think i will sometimes.
however, i find, no matter what chemical may be released or pulled back, i still feeling sore that i have no stories to write, and the ones that i do are rubbish in words.
so i still lack muse.
i remember reading, in this really badly printed psychology book for my 11th grade, that people who used their creative juices with passion, were merely compensating for a lacking ability, or experience that they did desire, be it consciously or un.
an example was given of a man who authors love poem after love poem, may be compensating for his lack of sexual activity.
this now makes me think, did sex eliminate my muse?
this is such a messy, messy world.
such a messy world.
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