the loneliness of the long distance walker

monday mourning. the aftermath of 30 misspent years is a sobering affair. writing a blog entry was all he could do to keep his eyes open. the accidental byproduct of his new, shorter commute was that he had less shut-eye on the ride to work. a curtailed difference in time between waking up and sitting at his day job. instead of growing accustomed to it, the effect was increasingly jarring.

in the wake of the 3-day transit strike, he had taken to walking home. when the weather was dry. when he had nothing to do or nowhere to be. a long walk hitting the uneven pavement, passing people, looking forward to the extended stretches where he didn't have to jockey for sidewalk space amidst slower pedestrian traffic. people with shopping bags, people walking their dogs: slow walkers with no reason to move any faster. he had no reason to move faster. but he did so simply because it was something to focus on.

he had turned 30 that weekend, which didn't hit immediately. rather, it rang and echoed and seemed to get louder the day after. a sea change had occurred. and the thought dawned on him that for all his loneliness, he couldn't imagine getting close to anyone. because what would be the point? and that idea stung worse than anything.

best to fly under the radar for a while. getting trashed as often as possible was not granting him the oblivion he wanted. long walks alone. finishing his plays. he needed to realign. he needed to recalibrate. he needed to stop mourning all that was and all that could have been... and assess what would be from this point forth...