11:11 pm

mortality has lately been a great incumbrance of late. i partially blame this upon my job, not because of the job, but because of the benefits. specifically, life insurance. i really did not pay much attention to it until that part of the application form where i had to list my beneficiaries. and since one of my beneficiaries may possibly not outlive me, i been flung into despondence. and then this week, learning of a friend’s “incurable” illness. and she is facing it with a far better attitude than i, from what i can tell. people amaze me with their courage.

but i have lost all sense of time. i don’t know how July became December, how 2000 became 2014 or whatever year it is. i’ve lost track. time terrifies me because i am not making much use of it. 14 years feel like a week, and then i recall that i am only about 10 years younger than my father’s age when he passed away. 10 years is not even a fractal. and i can’t make any decisions about even the simplest of things because everything feels equally urgent. everything. changing a light bulb. writing a grant proposal. going to a movie, meeting someone like you for dinner.   it’s impossible to prioritize or accomplish very much. not as much as i have always envisioned.

when people tell me to follow my instincts, i feel clueless. all i sense is fleetingness. but for the people i most admire, fleetingness is a kind of liberation. i have to get myself in that mindset. or maybe it’s just a simple matter of becoming selfless.

each time i look at the clock these days, it’s always 11:11 pm. which is earlier than i thought. i think it’s just a matter of staying awake long enough for happy accidents to occur. maybe that explains my insomniac ways.

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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