The High in Disguise..

...what happens when the only high you know of is the high you get from a strange mixture of envy and pain.. the high of feeling robbed.. gushing in its puddle.. the particular ''sweet'' smell of victimization and the slime climbing up your pores.. How unmistakable you gravitate to it.. to this magnetically alluring replacement for a high that is originally equally emotionally engaging if not unimaginably more so.. How surgically precise do you veer from catching the fleeting glimpse of a thought that chiseled to matter, making your life a sculpture.. grown out of second hand puddle baths that dry your clay to dust..