Bliss

like puffs of powdered sugar sweetening the air dissolving like sweet perfume in pink light. sublime thoughts escaping you your mind too feeble to hold on. your lips stretched into a smile, piercing into your chubby cheeks, already hurting.

"Why does one love? Why does one love? How queer it is to see only one being in the world, to have only one thought in one's mind, only one desire in the heart, and only one name on the lips--a name which comes up continually, rising, like the water in a spring, from the depths of the soul to the lips, a name which one repeats over and over again, which one whispers ceaselessly, everywhere, like a prayer."
- Guy De Maupassant

The dull Routine of Existence

“My mind “, he said, “rebels at stagnation. Give me problems, give me work, give me the most abstruse cryptogram, or the most intricate analysis, and I am in my own proper atmosphere. I can dispense then with artificial stimulants. But I abhor the dull routine of existence. I crave for mental exaltation…”

- Sherlock Holmes on being questioned about his drug abuse habits by Watson.

Am I missing that high? Definitely!