tonight i was trying to count the number of people i don’t know. i counted at least 1000 of them at Millennium Park tonight for Beethoven’s 5th. And I don’t think any of them really could figure out who i was either. 

and maybe another 1500 people on my walk down Michigan Ave. to the bus which was packed (i hate to use this expression) like sardines… but I mean this literally… maybe 150 people in there, not counting myself or the driver.

and there’s the doorman of my building, who recognizes me and we exchange hello’s, but i can’t say he really knows me.

so according to my calculations, that’s about 2652 people. almost ten times my number of facebook friends, most of whom know me just as well as the 2652

although now that i think about it. i think all of the people i mentioned know me as well as anyone. and they bear no grudges, and they don’t seem to expect very much from me, they may even be comforted by my presence, as long as I don’t stumble over them… which can sometimes be a challenge.

but assuming i don’t stumble over them, i think we’ve all become quite close, in this sort of anonymous way.

but I must also admit, i don’t really feel like I really know them. which makes me feel selfish, self-centered. maybe narcissistic.

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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