I took a nap this afternoon and I almost managed to fall asleep but I kept drifting into this half-dream (not daydream) state where I imagined waking up and finding myself alone in a place where I knew not a soul and I only had 20 or so years of life remaining and I just sort of froze up because I knew that, with time out of my control, there would not be enough time for me to make the sort of changes I needed to make in order to be in a place where I was not alone. It was terrifying.

And when I arose from my nap, I quickly became aware that the half-dream was more than a half-dream. Or less than a half dream. Because it was not a dream at all. It was literal. And it was decimating. If I were a sailboat, the wind would have been taken from me.

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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