Daily Writing
That old familiar kick in the frontal cortex. Clarity. Purity of thought. It takes approximately thirty minutes to reach full power and remains active for eight more hours.
It's warm embrace gently lifts me from the crusty eyed glaze of the night. It slides open the shades to let the sun shine on my mind.
It is my cure all creativity pill, my motivator and mentor. It drives me forward and gives me the urge to create.
A burst of energy and expectation. I wake every morning feeling like a smoker. My mind is clouded. My soul is shrouded from an active night. All I can think about is getting my fix. Should I make a cup for myself or stop at one of my usual dealers on the way to work?
It is an addiction worse than any other. IT CAN'T KILL ME! IT'S LEGAL! IT'S EVERYWHERE AND CHEAP! THERE ARE NO ADVERSE SIDE AFFECTS! What could be worse? I am at least honest with myself. I know that there is no way to break its hold on me. So I embrace it, abuse it, use it and try not to lose it.