A Little Mania

Some days life is different.
It’s a little easier.
I’m a little faster
in thought, word, and deed.
There’s no guilt,
no doubt,
no second guessing
to hold me back.
They are distant memories at best.
I hear everything,
remember everything,
and have all at hand.
There are smiles,
acknowledgments that weren’t there before.
I’m brighter,
bolder.
Conversations are deeper.
I wait in silence, as others speak.
I take in all arguments
and deftly define my position.
A burgeoning respect surrounds me.
Suddenly I am followed
instead of following.
The day is brighter.
The night, more beautiful.
Scent is stronger.
Trails of cologne and perfume
inundate the hallways.
Work is easier.
Complicated tasks, grasped in moments.
Changes are anticipated,
Revisions are redundant.
A happy hour is a playground.
I move from pocket to pocket,
Listening, digesting, commenting,
and moving on.
Movement is key.
If i stay too long in one place
The thoughts build up,
The muscles twitch,
And I spin far past the crowd around.
A savvy speaker will recognize my trajectory
and burn me with an extended argument.
Movement around me
confines me
and leaves me frozen in place.
The brilliance of the day blinds me
and the night envelopes me.
A little manic is a great thing,
it magnifies the present.
Too much is a demon chef
who plates the past.