The unusual heat of the night is getting to me. I am wrestling with my sheets after already besting the Sandman earlier in the evening. My eyes refuse to shut, as I’m forced to rerun Don’t Stop Talking along with the day’s events. It was a rat race, everyone climbing over each other for that tiny morsel. The competition was fierce, the furious energy of Jon and Natascha underscoring the kinetic. Our days have bloomed well beyond the 9-to-5 grind as our waist lines expand at the excuse of too little time and not enough healthy choices. We chain smoke. We pick at our nails. We gnash our teeth. Before we know it, we’ve fallen into a mindless entertainment choice as the dusk settles onto our jaundice-lit homes. Yet I can’t shake Ray Creature. The sensual break from the norm — sensual not necessarily a synonym for sexual. There’s no identifying it completely which is why I am awake and have been for many evenings trying to wrap my head around an endless thought. The best remedy may be one more front-to-back and a few extra helpings of “Success” in an effort to pump me up for the impending sunrise and another day back at the races.
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