Into the mountains

While driving West, into the mountains, it dawned on me that I was the only one in my car, and I was far far removed from all of the people I have loved or almost loved or liked–this entire community I had spent my entire life creating was gone. And I was alone in my car. And suddenly I started crying, shamelessly. Although I was little weirded out by this. I had come to the mountains for warmth and protection and instead I had driven straight into a frozen barren tundra wasteland. And I was so angry at myself. Furious. This isn’t how things were supposed to be, I cried. What series of mistakes and wrong decisions could have brought me here? I’m not supposed to be here. Alone, on this road, into the mountains, without a map, without a plan.

I tried walking it off. 12,515 steps. But it only took me further into my aloneness.

But then, eventually when all was lost, when I veered off the path and was hopelessly lost on a mountain trail, I saw my car and realized I had not been lost at all. I was only walking in circles.

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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