the dark side

It's like falling in love, but more useful. The gutrush and nights without sleep. The waking with intention, the rushing of tiny breakthroughs that surge you off your seat and into the screen.

As if I ever meant to leave. As if you could swear off these things like one abstains from alcohol, sex and stupid fun. I am mouth open free falling and pacing. I am ageing faster but somehow living more. The romance of a creation feels like some devine force is present, even through the frustration and the angst and the screaming.

Did God come up with existenstialism in his underwear?
Is enlightenment less sleep, more coffee, and a head full of ideas?