the back row

you may have seen me sitting in the back row at the james bond movie tonight. that was me. i kept wandering out of the theater, behind the screen, out into the lobby, beneath the projection booth, past the concession stand, treading lightly. all the while, my body remained planted in my seat. splayed out.

i kept drifting off into dangerous waters, into the shadows. just like in the movie. but once again, it was only my mind veering off into panic mode. somehow this email i received at work, with an invitation to the company bowling party on Martin Luther King Day sent shivers down my spine. i guess i HAVE to go…  but what if there’s another company bowling party the next week… and then the one following that? what if there’s an avalanche of bowling parties and slowly slowly i get buried in it? what if i’m expected to talk to people? what could i possibly have to say? what happens if i never summon the courage to stop forcing myself to act like someone else? what happens if i can’t live up to expectations, either my own or anyone else’s?

and then it all kicks in. all i have to do is simply return to my seat and watch the projections on the screen in front of me instead of the one inside. every time i leave the present, that’s where the terror begins. it’s only bowling.

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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