I can’t tell you where I’ve been lately because I haven’t the faintest clue.

I think I may have been in L.A. But my image of being there is approaching dim.

I may have been tango dancing with my new girlfriend, except that I do not know how to dance. I could not possibly know how to dance. And my girlfriend turns out to be another ghost.

I’ve been dwelling either way too much or not nearly enough upon my upcoming hip replacement surgery. Which is both liberating and frightening.

I also think about my job which I am both afraid of losing and afraid of eternal entrapment.

And then there’s Trump and dismal election which never fails to bring me down.

And I may take breaks here and there to climb into the television. Little breaks here and there.

And I may sleep for 4-5 hours night.

And I may stare at any number of devices waiting for texts from real and imaginary friends.

But it does’t really feel like I am anywhere.

Everything feels in between.

Waiting to leave a place where I’ve never arrived.

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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