the inconceivable

i love this time of night… the moments that occur between 10:54 and 10:55pm. i seem to come alive then. something transformative happens. my eyes open. i remember how to breathe. all of the lingering doubts and regrets and fears and speculations and obsessions… they all stop lingering, exhaled away. i find comfort in the murmur of the refrigerator, even in the persistent ringing in my ears. as long as i sit here, writing to you, nothing conceivably bad can ever happen. i could sit here writing to you forever.

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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