The woman who answered my question was Gestaltics' most proficient transmission. She had always been a little bit more than just a tarot reader or a psychic reader, for she is of a mysterious descent. But she had never put any weight in her readers' concerns until she had [[Find out about her history when she was younger]] [[Go to visit her]]When she was younger, her mother would come home with the day???s earning, and she would usually give her accurate guess of how much each and every day. But after she turned thirteen, her mother died and she was orphaned and homeless. Since then, her vision got more powerful while her speech was limited, and gradually she lived in the street and made ends meet by collecting garbage, but people who heard of her ability to foresee the future came to visit her nonstop. The person who comes to see her is called a querent. It was usually a simple answer that they receive, like " your future is in your past" or " you're not worth my time". But sometimes she would give a different and ambiguous answer, like " you are within what the Golden Ear can hear", or perhaps ???the Lord???s armor is heavy.??? And that was probably not the answer the querent wanted. Or was that? [[Go to visit her]]So that day, I went to visit her. The shed she now dwells in is a little bit more than just a garbage hut, and she lives there with a little more than a thousand rats. Unlike most so-called Fortune Tellers or Psychic Readers who would start by telling me they were a medium, she didn't speak to me for a long time but appeared like she was communicating with the gods or ghosts of her culture who had died many years ago. [[Ask her why she lives among the garbage and rats]] [[Ask her if I can seek answer to a question]]"Why do you live in garbage, surrounded by rats?" I asked out of irresistable curiosity. "I don't really know why I live in garbage, but I've been living in what I collect. We've all been living our whole lives in what we collect. I've been living in this place for years and the things here are other people's lives and years. In telling one's life's stories with honesty, garbage outperforms a human's mouth." A thought in me suddenly got ignited... [[Ask her if I can seek answer to a question]] [[Withhold the thought and instead, look around in her garbage collection]]The answer to people's lives lies right here, in her garbage, I thought to myself. How I've come this far and discarded so many truths of my past? What if my future really lies in my past? I let my thoughts chill and put myself together to ask her: "I've come here to - " "Put your question in a sketch." She cut you off and handed you a hand-torn slice of wrinkled recycled paper. [[Will I ever find love?]] [[What will my career be like in this coming year?]] [[In which city will I die?]]I withheld the thought and asked her if I could look around. She lightly nodded. A garbage-filled hut was dark and damp. The only light came from a single, dirty window. In the corner was a pile of old, torn clothes. Against the wall was a bed made from old, dirty sheets. The woman was sitting near an unlit pile of firewood. On the bed was a yellowed notebook. In the notebook I found some wiggly lines like an elementary student's writing. The woman was coughing and seemingly in a trance from the garbage-filled hut. It was as if she could see, smell, and feel other people's past through their trash. She had been living like this for years. [[Pick up the notebook]] [[Turn toward the rats]] I've had a really tough relationship history. I've been in and out of relationships for years and years, and I've never been able to find the right one. Every time I get involved with someone, they either leave me or they get hurt. It's really tough, and I don't know how to fix it. I have been in an abusive relationship for the past three years. I never wanted to leave, but I was too scared. I was too scared of what he would do to me if I left. I was too scared of what he would do to my child if I left. I was too scared of what would happen to me if I stayed. But in the end, my ex-partner hid my child from me and I never saw my child again. I thought I had known torment from my years of terrible relationships, but after my child was lost, I realized what true torment is. I still live in the shadow of my trauma, but as naive as I am, I still wonder if I could be loved. I wrote on the piece of paper: "Will I ever find love?" [[Hand the paper to the woman]] [[Erase it and ask where I will find my lost child]]I wrote "What will my career be like in this coming year?" I handed the paper to the woman. She anointed the paper with a special oil, then set it on fire. As the paper burned, the woman focused on her question or desired outcome. The vision appeared in the flames. I sat and waited. Finally she spoke. "Lies! Lies!" She exclaimed. Though I first thought she was saying "lies," it didn't take long for me to figure out that she was really saying "lines." "Lines that allude to something greater, That which cannot be seen with the naked eye. Lines that go on forever, With no end in sight never-ending prison." I couldn't say why but there was something uneasy in this. And that was the last words she spoke with me. No matter how I begged for her explanation, her mouth remained shut. Her expression seemed like she completely forgot my presence and was not able to notice, as if I were air. In disappointment and confusion, I left her garbage hut and headed home. <end>I wrote [["in which city will I die?"]] [["Where will I eventually die?']] [["Where will I move to in the end?"]] I handed the paper to the woman. I handed the paper to the woman. She anointed the paper with a special oil, then set it on fire. As the paper burned, the woman focused on her question or desired outcome. The vision appeared in the flames. I sat and waited. Finally she spoke. "The first shall be the last, and the last shall be the first." And that was the last words she spoke with me. No matter how I begged for her explanation, her mouth remained shut. Her expression seemed like she completely forgot my presence and was not able to notice, as if I were air. In disappointment and confusion, I left her garbage hut and headed home. <end> My heart suddenly ached as I thought about my poor child. Where is he now? Painfully, I erased the question and replaced it with [["Where will I find my child?"]] [["Will I ever find my child?"]] [["Where will I find my lost one?"]] And handed it to her. I wrote "where will I find my child?" I handed the paper to the woman. She anointed the paper with a special oil, then set it on fire. As the paper burned, the woman focused on her question or desired outcome. The vision appeared in the flames. I sat and waited. Finally she spoke. "There's a place you know, it's not far from here Only takes an hour, or maybe it's a year Everybody knows, nobody goes There everything is fair, everyone is bare Where the stone meets the earth And if you find this place, you shall find your child." <end>She anointed the paper with a special oil, then set it on fire. As the paper burned, the woman focused on her question or desired outcome. The vision appeared in the flames. I sat and waited. Finally she spoke. "Time eases the pain, And we'll soon be able to forget. " My heart turned stone cold. [[Beg her to say more]] [[Ask her if this means I will never find my child]] I wrote "where will I find my child?" I handed the paper to the woman. She anointed the paper with a special oil, then set it on fire. As the paper burned, the woman focused on her question or desired outcome. The vision appeared in the flames. I sat and waited. Finally she spoke. "There she lies Lies in the dirt Tumbleweed in the swamp Gone like a fly In the dark.." <end>She anointed the paper with a special oil, then set it on fire. As the paper burned, the woman focused on her question or desired outcome. The vision appeared in the flames. I sat and waited. Finally she spoke. "There is a place beyond the pines, Where the sun never shines And the moon never rises Where the trees are forever bare And the ground is always cold." Upon hearing this, I became extremely intrigued. And that was the last words she spoke with me. No matter how I begged for her explanation, her mouth remained shut. Her expression seemed like she completely forgot my presence and was not able to notice, as if I were air. In disappointment and confusion, I left her garbage hut and headed home. <end>She anointed the paper with a special oil, then set it on fire. As the paper burned, the woman focused on her question or desired outcome. The vision appeared in the flames. I sat and waited. Finally she spoke. "There is a place beyond the pines, Where the sun never shines And the moon never rises Where the trees are forever bare And the ground is always cold." Upon hearing this, I became extremely intrigued. And that was the last words she spoke with me. No matter how I begged for her explanation, her mouth remained shut. Her expression seemed like she completely forgot my presence and was not able to notice, as if I were air. In disappointment and confusion, I left her garbage hut and headed home. <end>She anointed the paper with a special oil, then set it on fire. As the paper burned, the woman focused on her question or desired outcome. The vision appeared in the flames. I sat and waited. Finally she spoke. "From the stars we came, To the earth we'll return." I thought it was nothing unexpected. I felt cheated for my money. And that was the last words she spoke with me. No matter how I begged for her explanation, her mouth remained shut. Her expression seemed like she completely forgot my presence and was not able to notice, as if I were air. In disappointment and confusion, I left her garbage hut and headed home. <end>And that was the last words she spoke with me. No matter how I begged for her explanation, her mouth remained shut. Her expression seemed like she completely forgot my presence and was not able to notice, as if I were air. In disappointment and confusion, I left her garbage hut and headed home. <end>"The answer is out there, hiding in the shadows. Your shadows." And she would speak no more. <end>I picked up the yellowed notebook and read on. "I have many favorite things. I have been through a lot of changes and have had a lot of fun. I have also learned a lot new things that I never knew before. I think my favorite thing about this year has been that I have had a lot of time to learn about myself and my friends. My favorite thing is also to explore new things in my school and city. I think my favorite thing about my school is that it is a great place to learn and grow. My favorite thing about my city is that it is so diverse and there are so many different cultures. I think my favorite thing about my school and city is that they are both so positive and I have been able to learn a lot about myself and my friends. My favorite thing is hot chocolate with cream. Ducks in the pond are also my favorite. In my school, Tim and Alekhya are my favorite friends. At home, I have a potted plant. It is a succulent. My favorite thing is also my succulent..." Wait! Was that my own 6th grade homework booklet? Where we had to write diaries to practice our writing? I remembered it! I remembered it! When I was in 6th grade, there was once a homework assignment called "My Favorite Things" and it was indeed my handwriting. [[I was happy to see my childhood notebook.]] [[But nowhere in this 6th grader's essay appeared Lulu.]]After I took a close look at the "rats" I realized they were not rats. This creature was small and scrawny, but it was kind and gentle. It was widely rumored that the woman was visited by a flock of small, furry creatures every night, sometimes in daytime too. People believe that the woman cast magic spells on the creatures, but I saw with my own eyes that she loved the creatures, and the creatures loved her. She suddenly spoke: "NOWHERE INossession." What? It sounded like a word I heard in my dream last night. I asked, "are the creatures the embodiment of the spirit you are transmitting from?" "They are mirror images of each and every of the former owners of the garbage." I am shocked. Perhaps she knew us far before we came to consult her. Perhaps she knew every one of her querents. [[Ask her if I can seek answer to a question]] [[Leave her garbage hut]]Feeling no longer in the mood to seek answers, I hurried out her hut. It was raining heavily and the sky was as dark as night. I nearly tripped over something as I stepped out of her place. What was it? I bent down and saw to my astonishment, my childhood companion Lulu, a plush toy. When did I discard Lulu? My mother had always disliked plushies and discouraged me from owning them. Was it lost in a move? We moved several times before I was 18. Did I personally throw Lulu? Did I forget it? Lulu was dirty and its artificial fur was shedding. When was the last time I remembered Lulu? I had no answer to any of these questions. [[I decided to leave]] [[Ask her how she found and kept Lulu]]I decided to leave despite the pouring thunderstorm. <end>"How... how did you find this plush toy? How did you know it was mine?" I asked. I started feeling creepy in her presence, I felt creepy in the whole garbage hut. "You offered it to me. Don't you remember?" she smiled. I could see her yellow rotten teeth. It dawned upon me that every time every person discards something as garbage, it was not actual garbage, it was an offering. I realized that the woman wasn't human. She must be a god in disguise. "I loved it. Its name is Lulu." All memories came back to me as tears washed my face. I couldn't resist the urge to tell her my memories. "The toy's name is Lulu. It was gifted to me by my own father, who died when I was 5. My mother remarried, and my stepfather was an alcoholic who constantly beated me. But the worst was not the physical pain. He always negated any value in me. Under fear for his abuse, my own mother distanced from me, acting cold or complicit in his beating and verbal torture towards me. In my darkest abyss, I held onto Lulu for warmth or any imaginary love. Because to me Lulu symbolized my own kind and gentle father." I was weeping and my voice trembling. "But you did not love it that much," said the woman, who was unusually talkative for her limited speech, "it was NOT one of your FAVORITE THINGS." [["What? What are you talking about?"]]The woman turned her eyes away from me and toward a pile of yellow, dirty thing on the ripped dirty bed. I followed her eyes and my eyes fixated on the yellowed notebook that I passed by. [[Pick up the notebook]] But nowhere appeared Lulu in essay written by the 6th grade me. And then suddenly it all came back to me. The part of my memories that I always tried to keep forgotten. The hurt and guilt. "It is not possible," I broke down in tears, my dad was cheating on my mom with that other woman and kept lying to me that it would be all good. I couldn't stand him and revealed that to my mother, causing their divorce. I was delusional and I thought I was righting the wrongs of the person who did the wrong thing and I was feeling really angry all the time and I just wanted him to die. One day, I heard that my dad, already divorced from my mom, died, and I was so confused and troubled that I decided to shut this whole thing out of my mind. I deliberated forgot this experience, and when I became miserable in my new household, Lulu became my mental support and I projected so many good feelings of my own dad onto Lulu, completely forgeting the history. My long forgotten memory puzzle piece was back. I understood the woman. She could piece together others' past and future, but the more I discovered, the more pains I felt. [[I decided to leave]] [[Ask her if I can seek answer to a question]]I was warmly surprised to be reunited with a long-lost item from my long-forgotten childhood, but simultaneously an eerie feeling shrouded me: this woman already held the key to my past, the key that even I myself had lost along the way of life. <end>When she was younger, her mother would come home with the day???s earning, and she would usually give her accurate guess of how much each and every day. But after she turned thirteen, her mother died and she was orphaned and homeless. Since then, her vision got more powerful while her speech was limited, and gradually she lived in the street and made ends meet by collecting garbage, but people who heard of her ability to foresee the future came to visit her nonstop. The person who comes to see her is called a querent. It was usually a simple answer that they receive, like " your future is in your past" or " you're not worth my time". But sometimes she would give a different and ambiguous answer, like " you are within what the Golden Ear can hear", or perhaps ???the Lord???s armor is heavy.??? And that was probably not the answer the querent wanted. Or was that? [[Go to visit her]]