a story (continued)

… i saw your reflection, which was caught me off guard because you were nowhere within the vicinity.

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unfinished story

as i gazed into a bowl of oatmeal this morning (to be continued)

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September 1988

an interesting day, sort of, in a virtual sort of way. i noticed on LinkedIn that a student at the school where i seem to be tentatively employed requested to “connect” with me (yes, sadly, even The Lost Pedestrian has a LinkedIn profile) which would be totally fine, except my LinkedIn profile shows that i am actively seeking other employment. what if word would spread about this? would i risk losing my job? is this all part of The Plan to lose my job? But what is the next step in The Plan? Should I even be thinking about this? What does The Plan have in store for me?

I don’t know what is wrong with me. No matter how often i am proven wrong i can’t shed this blind faith that things will work out for me, as they did so often in the second half of September 1988. it’s gotten me into all sorts of trouble, missteps, very bad decisions, wrong turns…   i can’t really think of any instances where blind faith has worked favorably for me in this millennium. the instances where things have worked favorably for me have little to do with blind faith. they happen when i stop thinking about what has happened, what will happen or even what is happening today. what is happening today has little bearing on what will happen tomorrow.  in fact, these instances of favorability do not really have very much to do with me at all.  i just happen to be passing through them at the right time. and usually i am very lucky if i am aware of them at all.

and then there was an email from this recruiter i had never met, nor heard of.  she wanted to inform me of a job at an international school in Singapore, which she said she thought would be a good fit for me. now that might be interesting. i really don’t know that much about Singapore except it might be one of the most beautiful names for a city. And it’s not an imaginary city, unlike others i have often visited. most of what i know about Singapore I learned from a Tom Waits song.  Could this also be part of The Plan?

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option number 3

i have such pent up anger over such insignificant minutia that i can barely write tonight. and i only noticed that i could barely write shortly after noticing that i could barely speak. i don’t really know what to do with anger. i’d rather not have it. or any of its toxic manifestations. bitterness, remorse, vindictiveness. all of these things i would prefer to steer clear of,  within or beyond myself. anger is for angry people and i am not an angry person. i’m really not.

but this downpour of anger has swallowed me up and rendered me inarticulate. so now what should i do? should i wait for it to diffuse? can i channel it in some constructive way, such as formulating a strategy to escape the circumstances that brought me down to this condition? can i hope that something will align within the universal construct of possibilities to rescue me and take me to a different place? a better place would be nice, but right now i will settle for a different place.

right now, i’m leaning towards that third option. that sounds like the best. what would you do?

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pre-existence

is it a sign of early senility when you keep losing track of the month or the season? i cannot tell if it’s April or January or October or May. maybe it just means that i have not found a fool proof way to freeze time. nothing i am trying seems to work. except for disorienting myself. And that might be a good thing. Because it adds some nonlinearity to an otherwise linear existence.

i spent a long time on the phone today with my health insurance company trying to clarify the new policies for pre-existing conditions. the health insurance company rep asked me to list some of my pre-exisiting conditions. And i think i may have complicated matters when i asked her if conditions from my past lives could be considered as pre-existing. she said she would have to speak to her manager about that. We were about to end our conversation, when suddenly she asked me if life in itself might be considered a pre-existing condition? but she would have to ask her manager about that, too. it will be interesting to hear what they say.

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an offering

i was frozen in traffic much of the day, many hours waiting at a single stoplight. eventually, a rail thin man of uncertain age and complexion knocked on my window. and i tried to ignore him.

then he knocked again, more insistently. and i tried even harder to ignore him.

then, upon the third knock, i noticed that he wasn’t asking me for money. he was simply asking what had i to offer to the world.

so i rolled down the window, just a hair, and i said, that’s really an excellent question. would you mind repeating it so that i can make sure i am answering correctly?

and he said, let me rephrase the question: what you are most afraid of?

gosh, i said, i’m not really sure how to answer that…. (long pause). i guess i’m afraid of things that scare me.

but as soon as I said that, the light had changed and i had no choice but to move with the flow of traffic, with a sorrowful feeling that he would knock no more.

 

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the 24th chair

my shrink asked me what i disliked about the job i vow not to blog about each time i blog. but since this is absolutely the absolute for real final time i will write about it… I will continue….  i said that what i most dislike is that i don’t fit into the culture. I was hesitant to say that it was very frat-boy’ish because my shrink, although not very frat’ish is a former college athlete and perhaps he has allegiances with fraternity culture. He wanted more specifics.

I described my boss to him as a pit-bull of a man … and then I backtracked because it is actually belligerent dog-owners who raise belligerent dogs, and not the reverse. I don’t know why the word “belligerent” did not come to me instead of pit-bull. why is it that the words i am seeking are never there when i need them the most? it happens all the time. and not just with dog breeds.

my shrink said, now I don’t want you to take this the wrong way, but are you familiar with the term ‘alpha’… as in alpha dog? Yes, I am. He said he didn’t think I was the alpha type. I wasn’t sure whether he meant this in a good way or a bad way. I responded that I am alpha in my artwork, my art projects, the things i care about.  He didn’t seem convinced. Nor was I.

The truth of the matter is that I take the director role in my performances because I am the only one I can trust to evoke my mercurial sensibility on stage.  so, in some ways, i can be a control freak. Would that be considered an alpha quality?

i really hope not… because alphas kind of wear out their welcome eventually. my relationships with them tend to become strained. i lose my voice. even when my voice is strong, they are usually louder than me. but i’m also referring to the inner voice. which can be difficult to hear under any circumstance.

and then, when I’m out and about in the world…  and i observe alphas in action, i am repelled. i feel sorry for whomever they are conversing with, even if they are the best of friends. their dominance, their aggression, their persistent need to command the center of attention….  to me it’s suffocating. but i know very lovely people who enjoy being around alphas, and who sometimes even marry them. it’s something i don’t quite understand.

did i ever tell you that i once played trumpet when i was in 6th grade? all of the boys played brass instruments and all of the girls played woodwinds. And we were ranked from first chair (the best) to last chair (the worst). but you could move up the ladder if you liked. you could challenge the person ranked above you to claim their chair in this audition dual mediated by the band teacher.

i happened to be the 23rd chair out of the 24 boy trumpet players. One day, the band teacher informed me that the 24th chair trumpet boy wanted to challenge me for the 23rd chair. And my reaction was… well, OK. he can have it. 24th chair, 23rd chair… does it really matter?  So I voluntarily let myself be deposed.

it never occurred to me that this might be seen as a character flaw, a weakness… until the very next band practice. the band teacher was prone to tantrums when rehearsals were going awry. sometimes he would throw chalk and erasers at the students, while screaming at us. but this time, he just stopped the rehearsal point blank, and scolded the class for our passive performance…. and he singled me out as exemplifying that passivity. He said, “Just look at The Lost Pedestrian! Look at him!!!! He’s just going to let the entire world walk all over him!”

I raised my hand to express my objection. “Excuse me,” I said, “not the entire world. Just the 24th chair.”

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San Antonioni

i spent most of my dream life last night driving around, looking for a cheap hotel somewhere in Texas. it may have been San Antonio. I seemed to be there for a job interview. the strange thing was that i thought i was in Seattle on my way to a dog park at the top of a ridge overlooking a bay. this park is a recurring image in dreams of recent weeks… so recurrent that i am convinced i have been there, but i just can’t put my finger on it. either way, whether i have been there or not, whether it exists of not, there is great longing to be there. it’s calling me. it even knows my middle name.

but it was San Antonio, for some reason, a place that would never ever enter my mind. i think i eventually found a Howard Johnson’s and ended up staying there. But it was an open-air Howard Johnson’s, with an orange roof,  but no walls.

Does Howard Johnson’s even exist anymore? (something i could bring up with my therapist, had i not broken up with her)

and then after that dream, i did not get a whole hell of a lot accomplished, other than managing not to have any accidents. even intentional ones.

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Saturday, 11:32 pm

i was standing in a large room, a hall of some sort, and all around me in the candlelight, hundreds of people were singing in a language with words i could not recognize, and their bodies were swaying with the song. their voices merged into a sound unlike any i had heard up until that moment. although my body was quite weary, i knew i was not dreaming. i was in the polar opposite of a dream state. at first, i presumed that this room i had meekly entered was some sort of portal between life and death. but then i realized there was no real difference between the 2, nor anything to really fear.  this isn’t really such a bad place to be, I said. but i could not stay there very long.

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a dull roar

my plummet into uncertainty was met with a dull roar, which either meant that it wasn’t much of plummet or that things were not as uncertain as they originally seemed to the untrained eye.

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where you are not

gosh, you should have seen me.

in the pool

you would have been astounded.

i swam and i swam and i swam for almost an hour, rarely crashing into anything.

but you weren’t there. and i felt your absence. the pangs and crevices of all you were not.

you should have seen me.

but i would be the last person on this earth to ask that of you.

someday i will stop writing about swimming because there is really not much more I can say about it.

yet when i am not swimming, that’s when things get kind of complicated.

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mercury

it happened again. another day of really bad swimming. i don’t know how to explain it. i began on such a positive note. i wasn’t even thinking of swimming in a straight line. and now, i swim like wild mercury.

not that i’m deflecting responsibility. i could blame the change in current were i not swimming in an indoor pool. i could blame the lighting because it’s darker at 8:00pm this week than it was at 8:00pm last week.

i could blame my mask. i could blame myself for not buying the fog-proof mask, if such a thing even exists. i could blame myself for not doing enough research.

or maybe i could blame the other swimmers. there were more of them to the left of me than to the right of me and perhaps that shifted the topography of the pool. but still, it was my decision to swim with them.

i could blame everything on all of the incidents i experienced during the day leading up to my evening swim. but it’s probably for the best if i do not remember any of them.

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on the terrace

at my friend c’s party tonight. i was secretly hoping that i would not be able to find anywhere to park and that this would be my excuse for missing it. but that was not to be. i never ever find parking in that neighborhood, up until tonight.

it was outdoors, on the terrace of her apartment. and the wind was roaring and the windows were shaking with the gales of wind and waves crashing almost violently. i didn’t really have that much to say to her friends but we were all so awestruck, we were connected in ways that none of us could anticipate. i was very sorry i had to leave and the regret lingers as i complete this sentence.

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the north

it’s hard to tell whether my swimming is progressing or digressing. i can swim further and longer, but also crookeder. for some reason when i swim from north to south, i feel as if i am perfectly aligned, but when i return from south to north, i  nearly veer into the next lane.  what does that say about me? perhaps this a question for the astro-cartographer.

I wonder what he would say. Maybe he would tell me this is all part of my spiritual journey. Maybe he would tell me to restrain myself from going so far south since i am having such a difficult time returning from it. it’s pretty much what happened during the year i lived in new orleans.  it is the north where i belong. i will just keep swimming further and further north until i am told to stop.

so if you happen to live in the south and you wonder where i went, now you know.

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Saturday, 4:39 PM

no energy today (yet)

the only thing that may wake me up is sleep

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