Combatants

It’s too noisy in here. in this room. in this head. constant din and clatter.

seriously agitated all day, ever since last night when a friend gave me some advice that is the complete opposite of my instincts, that is the complete opposite of what some of my other friends would tell me… but deep down, deep, deep down,  i think my friend might be right. it’s not so easy to listen to what one doesn’t really want to hear, unless one really wants to hear it.

Vacillation is not anything I would wish unto any of my enemies, if I had any enemies to wish unto. Is it strange to have no personal enemies? Or enemy combatants?

it’s all so agitating. i have not been the funnest person to be around lately, as those who have been around me can attest. nor the best blogger.

I saw a sign in the window of a hair salon that read “keep the hair you no longer have.”

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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