that person

i fear that i’ve become how I imagine people see me.

they don’t see this childish person trapped in this old’ish body

they don’t see that i have or once had a sense of humor

or any kind of creative thought

they don’t see anyone with any kind of passion or interests

or depth

or depth of feeling

they don’t hear the music playing in my head

they see my fears and insecurities

but they might see them more as quirks of character

i wish i could make them see me differently

that I could control this somehow

but this weight of these imagined perceptions

this weight i have not been able to shed

 

standing on the scale each morning does not seem to help

 

 

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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