New Hair Day
Opened my eyes, I forgot. Maybe it was 9. I think it was 9. Mom woke me up, she said that we should be getting ready to go to PS. We were getting a hair cut. It'd been more than a month since I last cut my hair. It was about time to go and have my hair cut.
So, after another bread spread with nutela and a shower later, I was ready. The driver was waiting outside. He didn't drive us all the way to PS though. My father wanted to use the car, so we were dropped at Hayam Wuruk and hailed a cab there.
The hour indicated that 3-in-1 hours had passed. Sudirman was crowded. Mom and the taxi driver conversed, busways and monorails were mentioned. Government issues and shortcomings were also mentioned. Those were one of the most favourite topics Mom usually came up with whenever she conversed with a taxi driver. I stayed out of it. Once these were my favourite tapics too, whenever a taxi driver striked up a conversation. I used to entertain those taxi drivers talking about these things(especially since it's been a habit for me to sit next to the taxi drivers whenever I use a cab, and for some reason most taxi driver tried to strike up a conversation whenever their guest sits in the front passenger seat). And usually in the end I would ask about their lives, about their families, their children (most of them lighted up whenever I asked them about their children, I could tell from the tone of their voices and the light in their eyes). But lately, I found myself quieter than usual. I wasn't as warm towards people as I used to. And somehow taxi drivers know when you don't want to talk and they leave me be.
Today, my Mom lead the conversation. As always. Probably from years being a lecturer, she got used to leading conversation and cutting people before they finish their sentences. I also heard that this symptom is common in people who always think that they're busy and that there's not enough time to do anything. She rarely do this to me though, cutting me in the middle of a sentence I mean. Only sometimes. And as I've said, I stayed out of the conversation during our journey to Plaza Senayan.
Got my hair cut at Johnny Andrean. There was this guy who usually cut my hair. My mother got a hair cut herself. I always enjoyed having my hair cut. Especially when they're washing my hair and massaging my head. Very relaxing. After the hair cut we went to Kinokuniya, and then had lunch at the food court.
It was the sixth time I ran into Dewi Rezer. It happened at Kinokuniya. It was starting to become a habit, this chance encounter. If it happens again in the future, I'll have to start thinking about what it means.
Went to the supermarket before going back home. Mom wanted to buy a couple of things there. I bought some snack to nibble while reading some novels.
In the taxi
"My friend is about to have her surgery. I hope she'll be okay."
"How bad is the cancer?"
"If it has spread to her uterus, it would be pretty bad. It means that they would have to remove it, and she would have to have a small pipe implanted so that she could urinate."
"That's bad."
"Yeah, I hope to God that would not be the case."
Browsed the internet, replied a couple of emails, continued watching Raxephon. Didn't have dinner. I ate too much during lunch. My stomach feels full up until now.
A friend came by the house around 9.30 pm. Talked about lots of stuff. About making new friends, about trying out new things, about killing time, about learning new language, about arts and finding people who would pay huge amount of money for art, about religions, about life in general and many other things. He went home at 11.30 pm. It had been a nice conversation.
I've always enjoyed serious and deep conversations. Especially with those I could connect with. Conversations, one of the things that sustains me. Probably also ease my loneliness. I'd never mind being alone, but sometimes it gets boring, thinking alone withou someone to talk to, to say out loud what I'm thinking. And having someone who could understand what I mean and could also give a good enough response is a rare and precious thing.
Come to think of it, this is quite a contradiction when compared to my silence toward taxi drivers lately. Not as talkative as I used to be toward these guys. I used to get a lot out of talking with them, but for some reasons, I clammed up lately. And as I've said before, they just sort of know that I don't feel like talking.
We'll see whether the situation will change later on.
Opened my eyes, I forgot. Maybe it was 9. I think it was 9. Mom woke me up, she said that we should be getting ready to go to PS. We were getting a hair cut. It'd been more than a month since I last cut my hair. It was about time to go and have my hair cut.
So, after another bread spread with nutela and a shower later, I was ready. The driver was waiting outside. He didn't drive us all the way to PS though. My father wanted to use the car, so we were dropped at Hayam Wuruk and hailed a cab there.
The hour indicated that 3-in-1 hours had passed. Sudirman was crowded. Mom and the taxi driver conversed, busways and monorails were mentioned. Government issues and shortcomings were also mentioned. Those were one of the most favourite topics Mom usually came up with whenever she conversed with a taxi driver. I stayed out of it. Once these were my favourite tapics too, whenever a taxi driver striked up a conversation. I used to entertain those taxi drivers talking about these things(especially since it's been a habit for me to sit next to the taxi drivers whenever I use a cab, and for some reason most taxi driver tried to strike up a conversation whenever their guest sits in the front passenger seat). And usually in the end I would ask about their lives, about their families, their children (most of them lighted up whenever I asked them about their children, I could tell from the tone of their voices and the light in their eyes). But lately, I found myself quieter than usual. I wasn't as warm towards people as I used to. And somehow taxi drivers know when you don't want to talk and they leave me be.
Today, my Mom lead the conversation. As always. Probably from years being a lecturer, she got used to leading conversation and cutting people before they finish their sentences. I also heard that this symptom is common in people who always think that they're busy and that there's not enough time to do anything. She rarely do this to me though, cutting me in the middle of a sentence I mean. Only sometimes. And as I've said, I stayed out of the conversation during our journey to Plaza Senayan.
Got my hair cut at Johnny Andrean. There was this guy who usually cut my hair. My mother got a hair cut herself. I always enjoyed having my hair cut. Especially when they're washing my hair and massaging my head. Very relaxing. After the hair cut we went to Kinokuniya, and then had lunch at the food court.
It was the sixth time I ran into Dewi Rezer. It happened at Kinokuniya. It was starting to become a habit, this chance encounter. If it happens again in the future, I'll have to start thinking about what it means.
Went to the supermarket before going back home. Mom wanted to buy a couple of things there. I bought some snack to nibble while reading some novels.
In the taxi
"My friend is about to have her surgery. I hope she'll be okay."
"How bad is the cancer?"
"If it has spread to her uterus, it would be pretty bad. It means that they would have to remove it, and she would have to have a small pipe implanted so that she could urinate."
"That's bad."
"Yeah, I hope to God that would not be the case."
Browsed the internet, replied a couple of emails, continued watching Raxephon. Didn't have dinner. I ate too much during lunch. My stomach feels full up until now.
A friend came by the house around 9.30 pm. Talked about lots of stuff. About making new friends, about trying out new things, about killing time, about learning new language, about arts and finding people who would pay huge amount of money for art, about religions, about life in general and many other things. He went home at 11.30 pm. It had been a nice conversation.
I've always enjoyed serious and deep conversations. Especially with those I could connect with. Conversations, one of the things that sustains me. Probably also ease my loneliness. I'd never mind being alone, but sometimes it gets boring, thinking alone withou someone to talk to, to say out loud what I'm thinking. And having someone who could understand what I mean and could also give a good enough response is a rare and precious thing.
Come to think of it, this is quite a contradiction when compared to my silence toward taxi drivers lately. Not as talkative as I used to be toward these guys. I used to get a lot out of talking with them, but for some reasons, I clammed up lately. And as I've said before, they just sort of know that I don't feel like talking.
We'll see whether the situation will change later on.
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