i wake up. i wake my daughter up. good morning sunshine. prepare breakfast. my husband gets up and occupies the bathroom. i read the news, or facebook timeline, and then realize i am already hooked and put down the phone. pick it up again, click on youtube, and look for bath songs. husband comes out of the bathroom, daughter goes in. take school uniform out from the dresser, put them on the bed. daughter splish splashes her way out of the bathroom and asks for her towel. she puts on her shirt while watching youtube. hurry up, it’ll take forever if you do it like that. i take the nice comb, found under the bed yesterday after it went missing for weeks, from the vanity and comb daughter’s dripping wet hair. remember, side part. woosh woosh. kiss mama goodbye. and they are out.
i take my probiotic with a glass of water. thoughts seeping into my head like a foul morning mist. i remember last night i woke up from a very weird dream, worrying i forgot to put the bread in the fridge, especially since i bought one with a rich cream filling. i turned on the flashlight, not wanting to stir my family’s sleep. and saw that all the bread was already safe in the fridge. i was the one who put them there. but the one with the cream filling was nowhere to be found. not even at the bottom of husband’s tote bag. i was so sure i took one in the bakery. but then i wasn’t so sure about what’s going on in my head anymore. and that made me sad and angry and scared all at the same time. i returned to bed, pondering whether i should go to the toilet or not and finally got up and went. i then slipped under the blanket, looking at my daughter’s round sleeping face.
i plop down on the bed and check facebook again despite knowing it would take so much of my time. but i have turned away from it for such a long time. maybe, just maybe, i can practice doing what’s normal again. just the right dose, you know. one social media at a time. it’s okay. and i like and comment on a few posts from my dearest friends. and then realize again that i have stayed there longer than planned. i immediately switch to my renungan harian. pray. have breakfast and my grey tablet. write for ten minutes. and cry for both every and no reason at all.
mbak ala, flea & anthony kiedis, my brother & brother-in-law, my ex, some of my old friends came to visit our house.
the lamps were dimming so i instructed someone to get new ones.
when anthony & flea were leaving, we had photo ops at the terrace.
i was in an oz-cum-middle earth-ian land with a couple of friends and we found the crossing between life and death. it was a magnificent mountainous area covered with coniferous plants. a bridge – in a dull golden colour – laid over a small creek, heading towards a gate made of very tall pines and firs. what was supposed to be the frame was large leafless stumps in the same shade with the bridge.
we had seen some of our other friends banished to the other side by a group of dragoons on black horses. it was our duty to take them back and we knew we would have to arm ourselves before we cross over if we ever wanted to return. we were told that we should discover our weapons if we dug the earth at the flank of the creek. so that was what we did.
in a chronological order, we found a meticulously carved silver dagger, a ragged doll, notebooks that looked like they belonged to an elementary school student and were filled with the owner’s handwriting recording his or her daily pursuits, and finally, a preserved corpse of a girl in a dark blue dress holding another notebook. she looked as if she were sleeping. she looked so peaceful and captivating, like treasure.
we heard sounds from behind the gate and saw three striking women walking down the hills towards the border. we then saw somebody walking through the gate trying to escape but in ways too quick that i can’t recall them now the women caught the poor truant and silence came. the women walked nonchalantly to the bridge and smiled at us. obviously they were showing us the extent of their power.
we – M, D and i – were reading poems to each other. each sounded like a masterpiece. and we were ecstatic.
i was having dinner with a few friends who didn’t exist in real life in a ground floor flat with a wide window looking to the garden. two of them were couples. the bell rang and the girl went to the door. the boy was suspicious. i now can’t remember whether the guest was male or female but it was somebody whom the boy felt jealous of.
i and another set of friends went to the graves of two deceased friends. but they were no gravesite. they were buried in a corner in an empty dilapidated house. we drew two rectangles with a colored chalk – one is taller than the other – and damaged the floor within. we did a short chant and a friend of mine even walked on what’s supposed to be the heads. in just a short while, we saw movements from below the earth. the dead woke up like they had only been sleeping. everyone let out a satisfied cheer.
my house was a shelter to many people of my family and friends as it was also some kind of a vehicle. the world outside was deteriorating and we banded together to protect ourselves from an attack of some invisible power. from the cockpit of the house, we saw trees razing to the ground. the earth shuddered but the house was unwavering and we kept on going. we saw buildings and skyscrapers turn into robots – like voltus! – in movements that reminded me of rubik’s cubes. the skies were almost dark but the edges of those roboscrapers sparkled as if it was daylight. my sister called out she had predicted this would happen.