100 miles a minute

Sleepless in Atlanta. It could be the bristling AstroTurf carpet I’m lying on. It could be the increasingly serious case of poison ivy I’ve contracted. Either way, it’s 2:00 AM and the clock is ticking.
I have no art to go with this post. My mind is racing too fast to focus on anything.
Goodnight. I’m going back to tossing and turning.

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