Under Giant Trees

Sleep provides a much needed breaking-point in time.  It lets days be days.  
Without that definitive mark of sleep between days, time kind of turns into an arbitrary mush.  
Funny — time, sleep — and all the little things we do to keep our established constructs going. 
I was tired when I got off work today.  It’s kind of as though yesterday never ended.  
I think I ask a lot of my brain, and so sometimes it speaks up and asks me to do it a favor in return.  Like hiding from the world, or painting, or walking far…
…Far enough that my tracks are gone by the time I turn back.
Under Giant Trees

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