Deadline

My brain like a fog

A dense and thickening fog

It’s been thickening for years now.

Decades actually.

It’s difficult to maneuver around in it.

I wish I could be more pliant. More permeable

I would if I could.

It’s most noticeable these days when I’ve been trying to meet a deadline and just not getting anywhere. That deadline being …. well, there’s no dancing around it. I’m about to to turn 60 in about 18 hours.

When I think of this, I am shocked and dismayed. Clearly this was not supposed to happen until I was ready. I did not have nearly enough time to prepare. And not the clock is about to run out.

The life I had envisioned is nothing like the life I am living. Although if you spend a considerable amount of time spent envisioning… then envisioning is part of the life you are living.

But, truth be told, if someone had told me at some point earlier in my life that at 60, I would be alone, living in a place where I know not a soul, complete estranged from love and family and community and creativity and happiness, I might have said, “no thanks. I think I’ll take a pass on a life such as that.” And waited to inhabit a better life that would hopefully come along eventually.

I hope that does not come across as ungrateful. I am grateful for sparks and fireflies and lightning and stars and trees and water and shelter and sushi and Carla Bley and Leonard Cohen and John Cassavettes and Antonioni and Laurie Anderson and Dylan and Beckett and Kakfa and all of my loved ones who are so far from me now. I thank you. I thank you all. But if you wouldn’t mind giving me a little shove, a little kick I might need make my deadline before it’s too late.

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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