Gore-Tex

11:00 a.m. My bowl of oatmeal exploded in the microwave. how was this possible?

1:00 p.m. Lunch with my sister’s family and their friends in Chinatown. It felt strange to be seated at the adult’s table, even with teenagers sitting around me. Out of sync with everyone… and even the braised noodles with bbq pork. what possessed me to order that?

3:30 p.m. These knee exercises I have been instructed to do by a physical therapist seem to take half of the afternoon. I don’t really think I understand any of them, or how my gluts came to be so weak, nor do I understand how to control them… or why they are there. but I felt sad at the moment the exercises ended.

and then had to rejoin family for 2nd post-thanksgiving gathering.

7:30 p.m. what is it about family that plummets me to the depths of despair and under the weight of my perceived failures? I should never ever remove my gore-tex rain jacket. It’s a great shield, isn’t it?

But somehow I left there on a positive note… for some reason, when I leave, it often feels like the only time my presence is acknowledged.

that must have sounded incredibly self-pitiful. it’s just post-thanksgiving-fatigue-syndrome catching up with me at 1:06 a.m.

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.
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