- prepared for the heatwave to struck the moment i stepped onto the landing field
- don’t care if it’s south west east of north. it’s just surabaya
- wherever i go there’s always a battalion of mosquito ready to dive-bomb me
- lia and herman and their stories and calvados and 369 and boncafe.
- the rising appetite for anything spicy!
- out of touch with reality but to be gripped by a harsher reality
- where all swallowed bitter pills seemed to somehow find its way back through acidic fluid up to the throat again
- agus and meme and the endless arguments and the night rides
- as soon as i get to this city, it gets on my nerve
- rawon, soto gubeng, pecel, nasi campur, pentol, pangsit mie
- nuts. nuts. those heavy incessant snores that topped a restless sleeps
- if there’s an emotional thermometer you’ll find my temperature always run a little too high here
- do you know the feeling of waking up to sounds of banged doors and shouts?
- yes. i spent 22 years in here. what about that?
- my failure entangled with theirs
- the picture is similar with the one in the proverbs, where it is said better to live on a corner of the roof
- and oh the uncles. couples of uncles who practically camped in my parent’s front room every day. o the agony of having to sweet talk them, to match their welcoming smile with my own fake smile, to go through all their questions and smoke before i find safety on the cooler confinement of my room
- my room which no longer mine.
december. two weeks before christmas. twenty seven and six month after i was born.
born in this city where i’ll always find the best food but never a peace of mind.
twenty two years in it. but when i walked on its riverbank of memory, strangely enough i could never find the root from which i was sprung