7 years have passed since my bicycle crash, 7 years and 13 hours since my fall from grace. sometimes i feel time collapsing all around me. the steady propulsion of time slowly erasing me. but everyone knows summer is the season for erasure since this is the season when time obliterates everything. present company excluded.
and then people look at me like i’m crazy when i tell them i am a winter person. if i mention it, they sometimes say, “yes, we already know that about you.” But i can’t recall ever saying that to anyone. not even you. except maybe once.
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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