the clock strikes thirteen... but how could it be? all the clocks in my house have stopped working this week. my phone alarm rings hollow--dear technology, we can never be friends. it's not an old school thinking, you know how you can never be friends with every soul? waking up is harsh when my mother is around, my kind of day starts on a mellow note. jolted by a surprising slumber reverie, soothed by dreams that drift away; that's how i'd like to wake up every morning.

on special mornings i like a human body beside me. i always wake up first. how do i wake people up? smell. the smell of my flesh, or the smell of food. it always works. i wonder if the smell gets into their dreams. some people just don't dream. some people never remember they dream. some people dream and wake up not realizing that they dream in their sleep. i dream and i remember some vividly.

when i think about you and me, i think about two nights ago, i can't help but rewind the way the tissue paper with greek words scribbled on it got soaked slowly, i noticed it, but i did not try to raise your attention. i did not want you to stop talking. the pen you used to scribble these words: "he is happy" which can exist in 5 forms in different cases. among this five, there is an ancient form that people no longer use. greeks used to sing in syllables. greek is the richest language in the world in terms of vocabulary--it has 5million words "or something," you said. the scene is in loop. when i think about that night, it felt like a long night. maybe because it was only two nights ago. what we talked about: sapir whorf hypothesis, languages: indonesian, english, greek, italian, spanish, french, german, urban planning, magic potions. how did we even get there? i was doing an impression of my social psychology lecturer. maybe it was not a good idea. i got 0 for my test and i only figured out today.