Saturday, 11:32 pm

i was standing in a large room, a hall of some sort, and all around me in the candlelight, hundreds of people were singing in a language with words i could not recognize, and their bodies were swaying with the song. their voices merged into a sound unlike any i had heard up until that moment. although my body was quite weary, i knew i was not dreaming. i was in the polar opposite of a dream state. at first, i presumed that this room i had meekly entered was some sort of portal between life and death. but then i realized there was no real difference between the 2, nor anything to really fear.  this isn’t really such a bad place to be, I said. but i could not stay there very long.

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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