i’ve been thinking a lot about what people tell me…. how people are unfriendly in Boston. because each day i am here, they seem more and more unfriendly and then the next day even unfriendlier. but there reaches a point where i wonder if maybe it is I who is/am the unfriendly one. Maybe I have forgotten how to be friendly. Maybe I’ve never been friendly. maybe if i was friendly at one time, it was fleeting. and it was a facade. and here I am blaming an entire major american city for what is essentially a flaw in my nature, my demeanor, my makeup, my code, my conditioning. i should have been better conditioned.

because today i feel especially unfriendly. at work, I kept moving from one desk to another because I didn’t really feel like being around people. I’d work a few minutes at one computer. Then if sensed any hint of unfriendliness of the people next to me, i’d move to another computer on another floor. i don’t think i stayed at more than workstation for more than 10 minutes. i just could not find anybody who felt like a good person to be around.

but they are all good people. even if they seem unfriendly. because they are only responding to my unfriendliness. it is not their fault.

that’s why i keep moving.

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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