not quite normal

by

Things strange and beautiful: grainy black and white photos, structures that look like spaceships (but aren't), things that look like they can fly (but can't), words that almost promise you something (but don't). Meeting an old friend in a narrow corridor, the smile that freezes mid-air and hovers somewhere above your heads like a rain cloud, brewing. Vivid dreams. Coffee stains on the ceiling. A name or phrase dancing on the tip of your tongue, barely within reach, never quite staying and never quite leaving; psychologists call it presque vu but you just call it peculiar, because you wish it would just make up its damn mind.

One other thing: that top-of-the-world feeling you are determined to hold at arm's length. Certainly you are lucky, but maybe the life you need isn't quite contingent on luck. How high up are you, and how many people will come, and how long will you have to wait, and anyway how did you get to this unnatural place so far from the ground, from your ground? It doesn't matter. You are already here. 

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Please, please pray for the rescue and safety of Sec. Jesse Robredo. Lived across the hall from his daughter Aika in college; heard nothing but good stories about him. She is intelligent, kind-hearted, and brave, and her respect and admiration for her father speaks volumes. Please pray. Please hope.