...indirect, multi-stranded, evanescent encounters like this one, in which I run smack into Tita Sylvia and suddenly I miss her magic and her prophecies, but I don't really know Willi and yet I sort of know Willi, and it's like childhood all over again where I get to sit by the grownups and listen to their important, mysterious conversation without being noticed, and no one really knows what on earth I'm picking up from all the things that are being said, and I don't either, but at the moment it doesn't matter because this stuff is exciting.
It's all too easy to fall asleep under the blanket of everyday life and to smother dreams with the mundane things I surround myself with. But once in a while, along comes a sparkling vision that jolts me out of my daily sleep and reminds me of the existence of convictions and worlds so different from my own. "Our beloved LOLA of Guinubatan, Maipon, Albay is the last true messenger of God. So, let us follow her holy teachings so that we will gain TRUE SALVATION without sufferings and without death." In another story I, the intrepid heroine, the adventurer seduced by mysteries, the pilgrim in search of truth, would follow them back to Guinubatan from Session Road, thirsting to see and hear their Lola for myself. However, it's all too easy -- much safer! -- to fall back asleep under the blanket of everyday life, and to smother dreams with the mundane things I surround myself with. Then along comes 9 a.m., and really, it's time to down the dregs of coffee at the bott