I woke up at three only to tell F about my dreams. I dream bizarre things these days. From snowy mountains to sea cliffs to Istanbul. He says to me I never explicitly mention him here – he is presented, passingly – but then I say it doesn’t matter because I prefer not to talk of things that we talk. Life is mundane, anyway; there are walks, shopping, classes, reading, the act of moving. Some days are nice, some aren’t. He mentions tickets and that he managed to get 12 yesterday. The average was 15. It’s been two weeks since he started at his new place. So we learn to keep up the pace.
To be walled. Last week I spent a few hours reading Kafka’s Metamorphosis and Melville’s Bartleby the Scrivener. For the latter, I was overwrought in some ways because I could not comprehend the act of refusing to speak to another. Of course we can decide not to participate in society as such, to refrain from giving any information or indication of a will. This we see in some friends, who choose to remain silent and observe things instead. So things build up internally, nothing is ever communicated – one wells up with emotions, and thoughts until one day, one ceases to be. So our little Bartleby refuses to participate in the world by not eating at all. He doesn’t prefer to, anyway. An active choice to die.
Can we choose our own death, then? Is it morally wrong to kill oneself? I think someone tweeted this last night. Questions are raised but I feel nothing. People can will death, execute that will – whether they succeed or not – but they can never take control of the consequences of their death (and afterlife, if you will). With this thought I die a little.
I woke up around 6 again and then started doing my laundry. I clear the dishes, took a shower, and when I returned to my room I realized I am going to miss the raya prayers at the stadium. I revel a bit a this thought but continue to go through my emails and upload documents and the like. Around 8 I hung my clothes at the yard, made myself coffee, and cleaned my room. I wanted to go out but then the roommate inquired of my not wearing baju kurung; it was a special occasion after all. So I ironed my clothes and changed. I did my prayers alone as no one was up yet, with the help of Google. I never remember these things.
Then I made butter cake. This happened quite suddenly.The roommate did Roti Jala and Curry. We ran out of eggs so I had to buy another dozen. When I asked her what colour did she wanted she said green so I put pandan essence instead. Our gold has turned to green. All the time I was doing this I wonder why she seems to take my every word as a form of scorn, never entertain my great concern (deemed repetitive). She quickly tires of my words or questions. Offensive. Impatient. So this is what happens when you have exhausted of each other.
At class I seem to be bored. The tutor mentions the difference between the legal and the ethical. The function of laws. I seem to have it in my head that rules are only meant for a guidance. One can bypass them if it doesn’t harm the individual or the society (or the state, religion, for that matter). But naturally I didn’t speak of this, and she is sad because few read the texts. No one spoke. After the class, I apologised because I couldn’t attend the last time. She still mentions the contrast between Engineering and Literature. I said that I find the subject relaxing.
After that I went to my friends and I called mother. She told me she ate rendang and I told her I am eating M & M’s. I read Roland Barthes’s Roland Barthes until A told me to come down to fetch something. I went in between the machines and took her picture for her family. She told me no one replied when she sent them a picture of a bowl of Maggi for lunch. Such is life. Upstairs I sat reading and helped out figure Farhana’s assignment. Then I looked up Barthes’ book on Goodreads. Dish commented on a picture of RB posing on the beach that said “Alone, always forever alone”. Mine read “Ourselves, always ourselves”. I am amused by this revelation, and returned home by bus listening to Space Gambus Experiment.
perkaraperkara 