uplift

whenever i ride the train this week, i fall heavily into this book that, for whatever reason totally engrosses me. or engulfs me. i become oblivious to everything and everyone else around me. i forget about what came before and what came after or what comes next.

how strange it is to become so completely engrossed immediately upon leaving the soul-sapping workplace. something vaguely similar to my 3 years as a pothead in college. i hated school so much, and felt so humiliated because my earliest art projects were ridiculed by teachers and students. i guess i was as much of an outsider in college as i am  in my current work situation. they are very similar in a lot of ways. frat boys who want to make it in Hollywood. i just wanted to be like Antonioni.

i never really enjoyed marijuana as a party stimulant. it was never an escape, never an exit. it was always an entrance. suddenly, out of nowhere,  abruptly, i could find a voice. and courage to use it. and i draw upon that still, although i rarely feel courage.

but pot smoking takes a lot of practice. otherwise it totally obliterates you. which i guess is the big draw for some people.

how did i even get onto this subject? oh, because i am trying to find new ways to find an immediate uplift and it has to be immediate because i am rarely in one place at one time for very long and i never seem to have time for anything. certainly not enough time to develop into a competent pothead again. but i do have some time to read memoirs of French existentialists on the subway.

this really is not turning out to be a very good post at all. but I will save it anyway. sorry!

 

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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