It’s about my exposed knee between the torn bits of my Mom’s old jeans under the 10 am Sun. With the breeze that would be nonexistent if I weren’t moving on an ojek. I can’t remember the last time I hear a hysterical laugh, it was a peculiar sound in the dusty Kemanggisan red lights coming from a pair of besties, young women in their late twenties. Like any other day, I would look around. Finding spots I would live in if I were a ghost; a stranger’s white, pristine balcony with a lot of sunshine and glass railings, a stranger’s front porch overgrown with wild grass, a stranger’s bathtub under a skylight, anywhere the sun can seep through. Maybe secretly I am talented to be a ghost architect.
If you don’t romanticize this city then you must be too busy, or you hate your job. There’s nothing poetic nor romantic in a job you hate, perhaps. Every bit of agonizing, slow seconds.
There’s even something to love about the crowd. This is where I would put a heartfelt message about reaching our dreams and working on the future we all were chasing, but you know that already. But instead, I’m going to tell you that no matter how small of a step you take in this city, you are still moving somewhere.
I know you have at least one playlist dedicated to this city. Old local alternative songs, old local pop songs, indie folk to give the illusion of some cold breeze under the yellow scorching sun with no clouds, songs to watch buildings to, songs to walk alongside Sudirman Street to. Songs to cry to at the end of a long, tiring day.
What did you not see? What did you not wish to see? This city swallows old people whole. They commute with dead eyes, dragging their bodies, giving you the urge to ask if they know where they are going. What if they don’t? What are you going to do next?
I wish I could lift the fatigue off of everyone, and make everyone happy, and healthy, and wealthy. It’s such a disney princess thing to say. But I mean it, the only unbearable thing about this city is just that it’s too tired and too harsh for old people. I hope this city would be kinder, not for me, but for those who are too old to catch up.
