Plastik Ördek and Irony

It’s like foretell, a dark one. How honest our society used to be. Rumah Sakit, as a state-the-obvious noun for a place where people go to sick and die *lame joke*, (what’s with nosocomial infection hullabaloo); instead of going sick and leave alive. Because the term hospital was a foreign Anglo-French word hard to digest back then. It’s not like we can expect hospitality.

Society like us sometime hypocrite, Rumah Urut, where you can get more than a massage. Rumah Bahagia the unstigmatized version of Tanjung Rambutan. You can get the like of Tanjung Rambutan everywhere. Back in my state, they called it Bukit Padang. It’s a trademark like Colgate and Maggi. The Indecisive coined the name I think. It’s a hill where we expect to be steep and slope but no, it’s a field where ones can run and play, in theory. It’s a sanatorium alright. But there’s more to it. Like a place where I despise to live. We moved there since 4 years ago. I still hate it like fresh morning dew. Which is an irony of total opposite in a scale of pleasantry. One of the reason why I refuse to go back home. That place is boring, collectively. Too many people, yet too quiet at night, nothing to do but watch re-runs on satellite TV. I am figuratively incapacitated there. Helpless waiting for semester break to end.

I passed by a high school girl carrying a thick dictionary. I’d like to tell her to search the meaning of life and go get it.

I sat next to an old lady in a bus. She felt unsafe and insecure with me sitting next to her and clutched her belonging tightly. Which part of me that gives her the creep I’d like to know. She smelt like most old people, desiccating. Fragranced by Minyak Cap Kapak in unison to all geriatric women. Don’t worry, I’ll meet the like of her come limping to hospital with diabetic foot ulcer and myriad of co-morbidity. I like Geriatric Medicine.

The back passenger pressed a bell that sounded like rubber duck being stepped on violently. The bus slowed, and old lady next to me stood and pressed the bell again within 5 seconds of first. She must be that scared of me, can’t wait to get off of it. Or she must’ve like how that bell sounds like. Irk you and gave you strange feel of satisfaction. A warning of some kind, a symbolism “Stop everything that annoying in this world” if only it be that easy “Stop this fella sitting next to me from giving me the creep”. Stepping on something that sounded like that always does. Try dog poops, and let’s talk satisfaction.

This is mental purge. Context not necessary.