Yes, I so feel you. There are the visionary, Mad flights of Blake and Dryden and Rimbaud, and who the hell knows what they were jacked up on.

Then there was Milton, who labored his whole life and weight against a consistent vision, and ditto Dante.

If you ask me? 99.9 percent of the stuff I write while manic is sad crap. Doggerel I wouldn't feed to a dog.

It's only when I get stable that I can work with those insights and turn them into something worthwhile.