Sudden clarity in odd bouts of hyperactivity.
Feverishly search outside perspective.
Much like the sun to the leaves in photosynthesis
(or how we orbit the sun, which orbits the galaxy, which orbits the universe),
each layer reveals another. For is the one in a feverish state,
in constant layered obsessions between microscopic detail and telescopic wonder,
the one solely sedated by an intellectual fever that refuses rest?
I lose myself in concept.
Detailed tessellation patterns, and poring through Russian literature to trace
what others believe (value in system?), the nature of life is (Different and same?)
Being fevered is
curiosity and chaos,
clarity and cloudiness,
precision and absolute fantastic nonsensical sense.
I’ll admit.
First symptom?
Check.
Prognosis: Forever I am fevered.
It isn\'t particularly something done,
but a state that was consistently etched,
learned, and evolving until it was my being.
It is not an illness,
but an infection of wonder I will not cure.