plunging

i haven’t been here in quite a while. i’ve been practicing piano a lot, but it’s not really practicing in the usual sense of practicing towards progress and improvement. because it’s more of a practice to plunge deeper into a space that becomes more and more unfathomable. it’s a steady plunge. does plunging count as practice?

although Fred’s (my piano teacher’s) wife, who is a drummer came out of the kitchen at the end of my last lesson to tell me how much i had improved. i have no idea what to make of things when someone praises me. it’s pretty unfathomable to contemplate.

but lately it also feels like i am practicing piano to avoid writing. i have felt such deep sadness these days. and i fear that if i tell you how i have been feeling and what i have been thinking you may not like me anymore. maybe the less that tell you, the more you will like me.

and it’s really essential to me that you like me. i don’t know where i’d be if you didn’t.

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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