the explanation

i believe i have entered my third trimester of reading The Brothers Karamazov, reading only a few pages each day on the train to and from work. sometimes the bus. and i’m not at all self conscious about it. not at all self-conscious that my default face is somber, and i wear these dorky glasses that might be cool to some people.. but i’m not at all self-conscious that i must look like some eccentric academic to the commuters around me. somber face with thick glasses buried in 750 page Russian novel that he may never finish. i don’t even think about that, not the slightest. but i do wonder if that is why nobody ever strikes up a conversation with me on the train. but then there’s another voice reminding me that most of them are wearing headphones. and probably listening to the audiobook version. that explains everything.  

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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