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more posts
Reclaiming My Life: A Declaration of Intent
The Revenge of the Dead Cow Cult
Updating Neighbors
The Ultimate Pun
The Obligatory Naked Mole Rat Advisory
Beauty is in the Eye of the Beholder
And oh, by the way...
World Dominion and Other Pastimes
Two unsettling developments.
Why You CAN Teach an Old Dog New Tricks
No Birdbrains Here

Wednesday, October 16, 2002

On the subway
I know things I shouldn't know, sometimes. I know things that people don't want other people to know, that they don't tell anybody. Most of the time I can't say anything about it, or do anything about it, because I'm not supposed to know this stuff, and I can't account for how I know it anyway.

This is a really awkward subject. One of the reasons I don't usually talk about it is because it can make me sound like a raving lunatic.

I may be a lunatic, but I'm not a raving lunatic, okay? Trust me on this.

In today's edition of the Wayback Journal, I witness a pick-up on the subway. In my gut I know there's something really, really wrong with it, and it scares me badly. I wasn't just grossed out, I was frightened, and not for myself.

Now on the face of it, this is a no-brainer, the guy sounds like a nut-job. But how do you tell the difference between the harmless nut-jobs and the ones who are dangerous? And how do you know when a victim is really a victim?

Sometimes I know. And I can't say how.
2:24:41 AM    please comment []



© Copyright 2002 Pascale Soleil.
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