About the moments lost and those found between the ones that might be both, or maybe neither. (With bluetooth, trains, New York and again all of us here...)

It is barely nine and there is a giant weight attached to the inside of my head and so I will just let it rest in a few minutes, just put my head onto a pillow and stare at the bands of light trying to catch each other on the ceiling. They amplify each other, then not... no they always do. The day was spent in a cool room, with the shades drawn, working on "smarter", "better", "faster" things... tiny little things. important. It was for the first time yesterday that I discovered other bluetooth users on the train. It was really silly. They looked so sad (i think pathetic is the word... or is it lost?), holding on to their little devices, poking at them with their little thin pens, after having given them really silly names (which I don't remember). I wanted to send them both pictures... maybe some pelicans?, some pictures of the outside? Or how about the inside of the train... freaky? I then decided against it... we had reached my stop anyway... and yet... would this had been considered toothing? When will somebody enter a subway train car and play a little song on their handheld device and tell us all that he is without work and homeless and hungry... and then give us his email address, so we can paypal him some cash, right there, right then. And many will. I got lost in the train station yesterday. It is a big station. I had taken this particular exit out of the train for the first time... It took minutes and I was somehow... lost. It was not that alarming being lost; not the kind of lost that would make me cry and call my mom (remember what it was like? when we were... three?). It was a strange surprised walk to places I had never seen before... everything was new and unexplored, but clearly only to me. The floor had the same indentations left by millions of feet, the dirt in the corners was ancient and there were even some tiles here and there, the remnants of the original, much more beautiful old station... it is not anything very surprising really. This is New York after all. I can not have seen all the corners of this city... but still. So I just followed the masses. The masses know where to go. (They all go boldly to Lemming Avenue.) Soon pieces of wall, the floor, the ceiling looked very familiar. Soon there was the street, packed with even larger masses. Then there was a red light. I knew where I was. So now we had to stop. I had a standing place in the front row. A man, maybe in his 60's stepped in front of us waiting for the light to change and he did not even introduce himself, he went right to the meat of his 2 minute speech, freshly recited for a very patient two minute audience. "God sent his son, to die for our sins..." He was just inches away from my face. I could see the embroidered hebrew on his silky scarf. (Jews for Jesus?) I could see the wrinkles in his face and they whispered, that this, my friends, was not a happy man. I just stepped forward, I stepped right into him and through him. I used him as a private gate. It did not hurt. It just happened... easy... Well, I did not really do that, but this is what it felt like, when I just stepped forward, as if he were not there at all. He dodged me, this must have happened to him before, did not stop speaking at all, or even slow down, but at least his voice was not directed at me anymore, and so it sounded like a silly memory... charlie brown's teacher was speaking now... not a born again madman. And then the morning unfolded further, nicely, slowly... I wonder how many times per day I am lost. And I wonder how many times per day I am found. And what does it really mean to be lost or found and can the one exist without the other? I guess it can... This little site here is found by some, several hundred times a day... and maybe some are lost... is reading this text for the first time equal being lost or is it more like finding ... what?... Maybe there is a much stronger connection between the two.. the lost and the found... If we are finding ourselves in a new place and we want to be there... then the place is found... and if we find ourselves in the same place, yet without any intention and without a clear way back or forward... and we do not really want to be there... then we are lost?... But the place can be the same? It is just the set of expectations that changes?... We are never lost or ever found we just think we are?... Hmm... I really don't know now... How did I get to this point in this post? I think I am going to hide the day behind my eyelids now. I will dive into the darkness of my simple dreams... and I can only hope that I will be back tomorrow... to just take a good look out of the window... and leave the house and to find myself in a day that I have never seen before. And it is going to be another incredible discovery... Good night.