the wisp

my car nearly exploded as i ascended the parking garage, all the way up to the 13th floor, on my way to another job interview. i arrived just in the nick of time.

but i came out of it as a wisp of a person, not even the slightest bit transfigured. i wish i could be where i am needed the most. it’s distressing to feel so ineffectual here while all of my East Coast friends are going through such hardship, either directly or indirectly. i don’t really know where i am, but i don’t feel as needed here, as i could be elsewhere. i want to be there for them, if only i could figure out how, besides sending out prayer-ish emails of positive thoughts.

but even writing them, i feel like such a wisp of a person. insulated here in my cocoon. waiting for the unexpected instead of entering it.

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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