A little problem 

I’ve run into this little problem.  I may be dying faster than I had planned and I’m not quite sure what to do about it. I try to convince myself that this is just a minor setback. like a parking ticket.

it could be worse. it could be much much worse, you might tell me.

you might also say that i should consider myself fortunate.

how so?, i ask.

and then you might say that if it’s something you have to explain, then i’ll probably never understand it.

that’s more or less how you respond to most of my questions. but i can’t stop asking them.

so …

the doctor gives me this grim diagnosis, but then she tells me to make an appointment with her in 6 months.

so what am I supposed to do in the meantime?

i guess that counts as another question that you can’t answer. although i think you have an answer.

you tell me that if you gave me the answer that might deprive me of the opportunity to learn how to figure these things out on my own. it might inhibit my growth and maturation as a human being.

and i think that’s a pretty good answer. because i am beginning to see that I can use these next 6 months to grow and mature.

i think that is how i will occupy my time.

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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