Adderall Prose Blues

I can admit it on this machine. because it isn't my machine: I'm an Adderall powered human being/machine. Does my writing have the tells? The narcissistic delusions of prosodic flourish? The used car salesman surety, rhetoric?- The presumptuousness? The over comfort with NEW YORK TIMES crossword puzzle diction? The false consciousness that lets me write such gibberish? That allows me, confidently, to jabber on the page. this qualification of my vocabulary? The frantic God damned ampheta-maniac questioning DO YOU PLEDGE YOUR SOUL TO CHRIST? YES OR NO? Christ Get over yourself, get to the next line, have some class and get a bag of Steven King and do a line like a real author, not this preschool prescription stuffy nose stuff. Hallelujah Leanard Cohen is dead I have a lane to merge into and again and again with the frantic writing driving swerving disregard for life and limb amputation addicted adderall prescription freak a deek prose and word and pow and there and done.