normal is he who knows too well
the miseries of others,
for instance someone hides from his predators
the other misspells the cause of his brother's death as a carjack arrest
out there one old maid is in a critical condition with a blood pressure of 70/40
the maids of the big house start setting aside the chairs and cleaning the floors
a philandering neighbor is taking chances with another young woman as he
abandons his wife and two beautiful daughters
another layman is suspended by the parish priest for drinking the bottle of
holy wine drunk during the mass at dawn
this one is lucky to have won 70 million and yet a day after he
suffered a stoke and still did not recover in the hospital
this one is worst, he died just today. No one seems to mourn for his untimely
departure.
but sometimes, i find life so interesting despite the news
of mostly unfortunate stories of people's lives
less the good news of another childbirth or winning in a dance
contest or having sold copra at a higher price
or another wedding of the century attended by big time politicians
or a poem published in a national magazine
i look at life then as a collage. I rise above them. I pretend
i am bird in a migration to another land where i can be another storyteller
i am not interesting. But with a little understanding
i wish i could be ...at least to you, ladybug.
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