calling card

i created a little world for myself where everything felt so free and i just floated through things without that much exertion. i sensed that i had risen above uncertainty and adversity. i thought i had it all figured out. everything was perfect. fogs had been lifted. curtains, too. i really thought i had it all figured out.

and then came a single drizzle of doubt. followed by a moment of toxicity with people whose name shall remain nameless because i have not actually met or identified them. but they were there, menacing, reminding me of the various doorways blocking my way through the vestibules.

i said, please tell me your name. please, tell me why it is you condemn me so harshly. for i am but a stranger here. for i know not what i’ve done wrong, but maybe there’s something you know that i don’t know.

so i began to question myself. and that floaty feeling evaporated. i saw it all eluding me. And I wanted it back so very badly. i wanted to make myself anew. but something was holding me in place. i was determined to move away from it somehow. to free myself of all doubts, fears of the uncertain,

and I said, i will not be deterred, at least i will try. and that will be my calling card.

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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