Havana night

On the train home from the holiday party (the theme was “Havana Night”) at work where I endured and apparently survived an hour and a half of awkward meandering around people I see everyday but have never spoken to and I don’t know their names but the music was so blaring that even when I did attempt conversation, I could not hear anything anyway and I’m sure they could not hear me (so I guess I found something I have in common with them) and deep fried appetizers that immediately made feel nauseous, thus defeating my strategy to drink as much alcohol as my body could handle and the only drink I could handle was ginger ale but all of those drinks were successful in leading me to several bathrooms breaks, although the layout of the bathroom was a little too open for me to take a nap in and now on this train, I am beginning to stop visibly shaking.

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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