the end of the day

This might sound curmudgeonly, but it really bothers me when people begin a sentence with “because at the end of the day … ” As in, “because at the end of the day, it’s family that matters most” or “because at the end of the day, your health is what really counts.” Things like that.

Because at the end of the day, starting a sentence without “because at the end of the day” feels very refreshing.

Because at the end of the day, what you do is more important than what you say.

Because at the end of the day, it not what you make, but who you make it with.

Because at the end of the day, you wish there was more to the day because that is when you are truly waking up.

Because at the end of the day, you wish you could start the day over and do it correctly this time.

Because at the end of the day, the trees are as barren as they were in the morning.

Because at the end of the day, you still have not spoken.

Because at the end of the day, you would rather not be overheard.

Because at the end of the day, you have run out of excuses.

Because at the end of the day, nobody has time to hear your excuses.

Because at the end of the day, you look out the window and notice that time has not stood still.

Because at the end of the day, you feel both liberated and defeated.

Because at the end of the day, you are still waiting for a moment of revelation.

Because at the end of the day, your feet feel swollen.

Because at the end of the day, your primal neediness seizes control over your heart, mind and body.

Because at the end of the day, nothing really matters much (it’s doom alone that counts).

Because at the end of the day, you have forgotten everything.

Because at the end of the day, you fear you are forgotten by everyone.

Because at the end of the day, you are fortunate there will be another one.

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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