all of the grunting men were there at the gym today. i was doing my workout regimen, trying to focus upon my breath. But i could not hear myself above the din of grunting, the abrupt exhalation of testosterone.
the women are much more discrete.
and then these hyper-ventilations of perky techno. it through off my rhythm even more, assuming I had a rhythm to even get thrown off.
a big assumption
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About The Lost Pedestrian
In my wanderings throughout the moments/days/years, I try in earnest to find the mystical within the mundane and the mundane within the mystical, oftentimes confusing one from the other. I have wandered and roamed through many a city, many a town, in a state of wonder and bewilderment, without necessarily going anywhere. I am easily lost, but eventually found. (I am guessing you have just found me).
My sincere hope is that you will find Something in this warehouse of thought, memory and false memory, words, numbers, tangents, murmurs, echoes (lots and lots of echoes), voices, dreams, and other paraphernalia.
The Lost Pedestrian 