it was then that I realized what I had become.

i was no longer an artist

or a lover

or a friend

or a dog-companion

or a cyclist

or a climber

or a citizen

or a permanent resident

or a shadow of a permanent resident

or a cloud

i no longer was shaken out of my slumber by pressing concerns

i no longer consisted of water

i had assumed a role

the very role i was born not to portray

the role i had assumed was not necessarily even a role

My role had transmigrated into a profile

instead of a heart and a head

i had a profile and an account

and an inexhaustible supply of likes and unlikes

none of them having very much connection to the other

no matter what happened to my body

my profile would live on beyond me

it was all so liberating

to be swiped in and out of existence

to be a user who in search of a use

that was what i had become

that was what i was disappearing into

and no one could find me

without the right password

and even that was no longer mine.

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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