kembang journal 6

I am woken up by my dad, I open the door and hear him say what sounds to me as a random compilation of words, I don't know if it's because of my sleepiness, or if my dad wasn't talking properly, but I did pick up one word, bath, I also noticed that he's wearing a gojek jacket, he's taking an order.

Instead of taking a bath, decide to take two more hours of sleep
I wake up and browse on my phone, before taking a bath.
It's time to leave for mustrav, I'm brought to the station by my dad and buy a ticket to Cilebut Station, due to the rush hour, the train is cool is not as crowded as the other route, the hall is empty for the most part and it's still possible to find a seat, amount of train passengers start to lessen, and the density thins, it's been weeks since I've ridden on a quiet, uncrowded train where the passengers aren't slowly being turned into diamond from the surrounding pressure and heat.
I've arrived, I exit the Station, the surroundings are crowded and lively, the sounds of people talking, shoes and sandals on concrete, engines running, after observing my surroundings for a moment I make my way to the cafe with the hot sun bearing down on me as I unzip my jacket.

When I arrive, I see the Ustad, two of his kids Ceca & Syabil, we have a discussion, well, I say discussion but the ustad is the only one carrying the conversation while we chime in occasionally, at one point, a kid named Kaysan arrives with his mom, he looks strikingly familiar to the newbie at Oase, the one with the same name as the infamous Kaysan, when I ask Ceca if he's the same guy he says no, at least, I'm pretty sure he did, I ask again and I'm pretty sure he said no, though, I'm still skeptical..

Snacking on french fries while listening to the Ustad talk about how flawed logic and ways of thinking can construe our religion to something else, something irrational and illogical, how worship and faith can be expressed in more ways than the Quran specifies, just as long you make it clear that it's for Allah, sometimes he pauses to let facts sink in or to let people ask questions, sometimes his voice is drowned out by the sound other conversations and the sounds of cars and motorcycles on the street, the environment makes it feel more like a chat with your college professor at the local cafe than a lecture given by an Ustad, though these sessions have always been discussions, they still felt like lectures especially when he had a whiteboard behind him that he always wrote on.
The discussion ended early due to the main topic being explored fully and since nobody has any more questions, I take my leave and head home, running into Ceca & Syabil on the station, the train is a lot less full than I thought, perhaps it's no longer rush hour, perhaps it hasn't been to stations with a lot of people waiting...

No wait, the answer is the latter, this is the second to last station anyway.
When I arrive at my stop, I decide to walk home, I take the bus and walk the rest of the way.

I take the regular route.
As soon as I get home, I tell my parents and retreat to my room, I crank up the wall-mounted fan to Max Power and take off the biggest source of discomfort on a hot day, my thick shirt, I then collapse on my bed and become filled with feelings of relief and bliss as I can finally take off my hot, thick cotton button up.

12:45 Chores
16:00 Write
22:49 Finish Journal


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