an awareness of present; one afternoon in the house

I lay here on the sofa in my house's so-called living room (it has no table or consists of a set of sofa with common template sizes and all the same color; my mother isn't the type to follow nonsense rules of aesthetic). The softness of the lambskin covering the sofa welcomes my sore back for it hasn't had any physical activities for weeks. The pillows take up the small space I'm supposed to own of the sofa for my big figure.

My maid is sweeping the floor. She always thumps when she cleans, whether it's the broom, the figurines she cleans, or the trash bin. My mother and I agreed that she is absolutely not the kind of old Javanese lady whose moves gentle as feather for she is old and weak and... Well, Javanese (but she does walk silently that it sometimes scares me and my mom when she calls our name with a high tone and appears out of nowhere for the sound of her steps is faint). Instead, we think she has a range within herself, unable to be expressed, so she delivers all the energy towards her monotonous routine (which includes blaming my mother for everything wrong in the household facility, and watching us from her room -situated along the kitchen line- as we cook as if we have illegally inhabited her restricted area and seems to wait for us to make mistake so she could judge us for it).

A stream of ants lines from the front door to the aquarium. It seems that a fish had jumped out of the suffocating glass prison (just to find yet another physically suffocating environment). Maybe it wanted a new life and be reborn as something more... of power.

A neighbor is practicing violin. The sound of it is rough, but it doesn't sore the ears either. Maybe it's because I don't usually feel bothered by noises. I just choose to ignore them, naturally, and focus on what I want to focus on. such as writing this note... or start noticing the basketball kids...

The kids have begun to play basketball. My house is about the outdoor basketball court and soccer field. My mother said it was a dream come true, because she had always wanted a house near a communal facility. "There'll always be people around, it's safe, not scary and dark and quiet." She has simple dreams, my mother. She never wish for mansions, luxury travels, or a pair of Choos. She just wants to live happily, naïve as it sound. She believes that happiness always comes first in order for people to have a satisfying life. In fact, think about it, it is all humans' life goals, isn't it? (we only diverse in terms of how we define and measure happiness).

I never got to know any of the basketball kids. I had daydreamed about one of them having a crush on me (fyi, my junior high school crush once played at the court and picked up the ball which was thrown and rolled in front of my house; I was at the terrace and we exchanged awkward 'hi's) and would throw the ball to roll in front of my house just to have a conversation with me (the tactical accidental occurrence is classic). It never came true, of course. It takes a charming your lady to attract such bees and I was never a heart-stopper myself. yet.

written originally on January 10, 2017. Revised and posted on January 17, 2017.