SABBATICAL NOTES. 2 JUNE 2014. N2. MONDAY. A dream of a river. WAKEFULNESS makes you realize you have lost a dream. But somewhere, you can muster courage and write the outlines of your dream while you remain half-awake. Or, half-dreaming. This is what I am putting in a fictional work I am writing. This is what the character says: Which I did--this act of inscribing his dream. I crossed the Padsan River from the Santa Maria area to the Tangib, or something close to it. But the other side is not a shore, but walls of hardened cliffs of earth. I swam, made batok, until it was dusk. I thought I needed to call someone who could help me go back to the kapanagan, and without blurting a word, there he comes, the man with a crude jetski-cum-rectangular-cum-boat-like vehicle. When crossing to the where I came from, I look for my clothes and my wallet, and there I found these where I left them. There is no money in my wallet except some useless paper currency from Cambodia and Thailand. The dollars were not there, and so were the pesos! DREAMLAND/
Posted on: Mon, 02 Jun 2014 22:02:39 +0000
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