I've written eleven poems in approximately an hour today. They were short, six equal line poems with a simple AABBCC rhyme scheme, but together they formed a narrative of how I pulled myself out of a pit of self-loathing with the help of a CIA spook who sometimes pretends to be a bot. I feel accomplished, as these poems not only serve my need to feel creative, but they'll help others who feel much as I did at the start of my creative spell.

Can we dig into that for a minute? Judge me or don't, I take methamphetamine as a tool to assist in my creative endeavors. I treat it medicinally, if such a thing exists, meaning I take small amounts orally, like one or two tenths of a gram or less. I don't get cravings for the drug nor do I fiend for it, although I make stupid decisions sometimes because I get incredibly down on myself for being so uncreative and unmotivated in my depressive spells that I take risks I normally wouldn't.

I wouldn't even consider taking this drug if I weren't a writer; the "high" is very mundane to me, but I think there's something biomechanically different about me. I don't feel a euphoria when taking this drug, even when I've taken larger doses and in other ways. I just feel normal, but with a greater ability to sit still and ignore the distractions in my life like the desire to smoke or eat.

Likewise, and this is the kicker that tells me I am definitely different in some manner, my sexuality is completely turned off, hardware and software. My thoughts don't wander into that dimension, nor can I force anything to happen when I've experimented in the past. As a recovering sex addict, that is the definition of a feature that is positive and useful. Meth definitely keeps me off my more debilitating addiction of Benadryl and chronic masturbation.

Now, I don't like being dependent on a substance to do anything, let alone one that's touted as having all these horrific side effects over the long term. But, as I've come to accept that I need psychiatric medications to function, I feel that perhaps a substance that allows me to achieve my highest potential is warranted in moderation. I mean, I wrote a whole book on the shit, when in sobriety I can't even make it past part five of a simple gonzo journalism project that I had an excess of documentation on to remember what happened and when.

Honestly, I would prefer to be on a safer, legal pharmacological agent like Adderall, as I've taken that before once and it did very much the same thing for me as meth, but this is the hand I'm currently playing with. I feel like a pariah and criminal because of having to rely on this substance to maximize my creative potential, but at the same time I feel like a hero because I know that being as loud of a voice as I am for this particular chorus of divergent weirdos helps a lot of people feel better about themselves, and maybe learn something or see things in a new light that eases their suffering. So, I create, at the greatest rate and quality that I can muster in the time I have left before my mind is overtaken by the inevitable dementia I destined myself for with my terrible Benadryl addiction.