Some lives are cream colored and vanilla flavored, pleasant, safe and secure. Not spectacular but to those that live them and their families, that’s just fine. No heroics but no disasters either. Sometimes I dream of a life like that although I’m not sure whether it’s a pleasant dream or a static nightmare
Sometimes life seems so strange, not just unpredictable or topsy-turvy, not just unfair, but downright strange. And it’s not just personal experiences I’m referring to, the whole world seems strange. I wonder if it’s always been that way.
What I am sure of is that there have always been those who felt that way, kindred spirits. I wonder how many of us there are now and whether we form a larger than usual percentage of the total population. My guess is that we do: the league of strange-worlders perhaps.
The ones Sigmund Freud revealed to me so long ago, the temporal connection of kindred spirits seemingly severed in another space and time.
 © Guillermo Calvo Mahé; Manizales, 2010; all rights reserved