Vibrator

I’m not sure what happened today. I guess either yesterday never ended or today began yesterday. It’s hard for me to say. Very hard.

Last night a TV stupor to escape the emptiness, to numb myself from this world I have come to by accident. Hours and hours of TV until 3:00 a.m. The final 2 episodes of The Affair. The 2nd half of Laurel Canyon. So much sex. So much sex I was not having. My escape from the emptiness made me feel even emptier.

Nice try, I said.

And then once I turned off the TV (actually the ipad since I don’t own a TV), my brain had shut down but my body was vibrating. This is the problem. It’s not caffeine. It’s not lack of exercise. It’s not anxiety. At least not the kind that can keep you awake.

What was I saying? The problem is that I am residing in a body that does not know how to stop vibrating. And that is what keeps me up late at night.

I may finally have fallen asleep around 5:00 a.m. But not very deeply. Not deep enough to dream a dream that would have filled some of the emptiness.

So many dreams I was not having.

I awakened at 10:00 a.m. Ate breakfast. With a CBD oil chaser. Practiced piano. Home on the Range again and again and again. It befuddles me.

Then swimming. For about an hour. I guess I swam a mile. I guess I swim 1 mile per hour. Turtles and snails move faster than I. But what is the point of comparing. I am glad I am not a turtle or a snail? Let them out-pace me. Why should I care? Should I care?

My body had enough after about 45 minutes, I guess. But I needed to fill that emptiness. 15 more minutes of swimming,.

And then I tried to take a nap. But it didn’t work, for some reason. I think the vibrations were starting again just as I lay down to nap. I lay there thinking about the hike I was not taking, or the writing I was not doing, or the friends I was not seeing or even communicating with.

This is what life has become. A life that is not really empty. A life that is filled with things I am not doing.



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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