gosh, how unfamiliar this place looks. it’s been such a long time since i’ve visited, i can scarcely remember where the light switches are, or the lights, or the walls that house the switches and the lights. it’s so dark in here and i keep walking into the closet door instead of the bathroom. and i can’t find my shoes. the other shoes. or my red wool cap. or the October issue of Vanity Fair that’s usually on top of the toilet.

the refrigerator is filled with foods i don’t recognize and condiments i have never even heard of. it’s humming at a pitch much lower than i anticipated. it makes everything vibrate a bit more.

i’ve been away far too long.

congestion of head became congestion of heart mind spirit psyche. yet my resentment towards those who have more or less rejected me (but did not have the grace nor the courage to explain why) is gradually tapering off, becoming more moot and more mute.

soon they will not matter in my life. soon i’ll be moving on and this place i can barely remember will become even more threadbare as a memory. i sense the sky opening up, and with it, vaster perspective, and with that, a new dog.


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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