thursday :: overstimulation

It’s late. Or early. Or something. In any case, it’s dark.
Outside in your skivvies and shirt and bare feet, the little lawn behind your house feels luscious beneath your toes. Look up at the stars and watch them blink and wink at you.

Everything is so very very quiet. Shhhhhhhh.
That quiet soaks into your skin, your cells, your soul.

Another night, another night, no sleep. We spend half our lives asleep. Such a waste to miss out on … thisquietdarklucsiouslyperfectmoment as the stars seep into your bones.

The best thing about being a little manic? You’re completely unaware.