red leaves

i have put off writing, put it off beyond the nether reaches of the day. a day i will most remember for making a moment to speak to you, dear imaginary reader, and to express my gratitude in the hopes you will not judge me too harshly for my lack of substance. I remember a day where I was neither solid nor liquid nor gas. please do not judge me harshly.

And i will remember the souls along the highway, peering out through the windows of office parks… dreaming their dreams of 1001 nights at the Renaissance Hotel and its untold splendors. splendors i dare not traipse nor plunder, which is what I sometimes tend to do.

And I will remember my heart lifting me out of the abyss when I read your email. all of it. the whole thing. beauty is a rare thing, was my first thought. But that really was a thought implanted by another, and not one I can call my own.

that seems to be the limit of where my remembrances will take me today. Oh, yes, all of the red leaves blowing around me. thank you for them.

and my gratitude for banishing my real desires for carbs and potato chips.

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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