barbecue

i’m just not waking up today. caffeine feels it’s dragging me from point A to point B, but nothing more than that.

in this morning’s dream, i was back in my old loft, except it was much wider, and so much quieter. although right outside my window, some people were having a barbecue. i couldn’t see them, but i could see their white pick-up truck which was blasting r&b music. it didn’t seem to bother me.

i hope i wake up today, for the sake of everybody.

i’ve been reading The Sense of an Ending by Julian Barnes, which all of these people in Brooklyn were reading when I visited over the holidays. reading it on the train, this one passage caught me by surprise in my half-awake state:

“I certainly believe we all suffer damage, one way or another. How could we not, except in a world of perfect parents, siblings, neighbours, companions? And then there is the question on which so much depends, of how we react to the damage: whether we admit it or repress it, and how this affects our dealings with others. Some admit the damage, and try to mitigate it; some spend their lives trying to help others who are damaged; and there are those whose main concern is to avoid further damage to themselves, at whatever cost.  And those are the ones who are ruthless, and the ones to be careful of.”

 

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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