bombardment

my mission tonight is to write something deeply personal that has absolutely nothing to do with me. there is no room for me in tonight’s post. this blog is becoming dangerous because even if i write something that has absolutely nothing to do with me at all, it turns out to be a forecast of something i eventually become. so i try out a different voice, trying to elude the previous one. like a game of dodge ball.

in my grade school boys gym class, they called it bombardment. two teams on opposite sides of the gym with each boy throwing these red inflatable balls as hard as they could at the boy opposite to him. i think the goal was to hit someone in the stomach so hard, it winded him, or to smash each other’s faces in. what were they training us for? i have never tried martial arts, but bombardment was probably the completely opposite. very martial, but devoid of art.

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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2 Responses to bombardment

  1. Coed Dodgeball in elementary school + wearing glasses = lifelong trauma

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