low is high

Feeling low gives me a high like nothing else.
Especially when there is no reason,
Maybe you just woke up later than usual,
So late, that the image of yourself
sprawled or crouched
semidressed in a hot room
while the world is already in the middle of accomplishing what it set out to do,
is beautifully repulsive.
Maybe you just happen to be sitting around as usual,
When you feel the moment has turned into a glass pane
Which is slowly being washed by rain drops
Through which you look at everything and everyone around, slowly dissolving
Maybe the words you wanted to say/write
Are lying scattered around you, like autumn leaves,
So dry that you feel thirsty.