I want to write something. But my mind is blank...blank...blank. Nothing behind my eyes but smooth grey silk. Shadows flirt behind that screen, grass and sky and sunlight slide around its edges, but I can't seem to summon the proper force to push through it. And meantime, my body vibrates just out of sync with the familiar, ribcage too small, stomach hollow, fingers ceaselessly tap-tap-tapping.

I'm going to bed before 4am tonight. Clearly, being wide-eyed for the wee sma's turns more than my sleep cycle upside-down.

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