On the train. Numb and fatigued. It’s the numbness that I’m really concerned about.

It looks like I’m not going anywhere for the time being. And that concerns me, too.

The job plods on. I search for change but it seems like it will take divine intervention for that to happen. I don’t even know how to ask.

I haven’t exercised in over a month. Which has something to do with the ennui.

My half birthday passed by, perceptible only to me. 6 more months of being where I was 6 months ago and 6 months before that.




I hate writing about these things. I used to think that writing these kinds of things would lead me somewhere.

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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