on Bells and Whistles

Many years ago, I met her and I asked myself the same set of questions. This was madness then just as it is madness now.

Many years ago, it would’ve been mad to be in love with her. That holds true just as much, today. It just would’ve been completely mad.

I’m 30 years old and single. Divorced and abandoned, in the city along with twelve million other of the world’s poorest, a five bedroom house with four maids and full time security guards and a dog. I work with information. Technology, media and telco and other nerdy stuff. I write stuff. I’m compulsively opinionated and my ex wife accused me of bipolar disorder (she is certifiably sane).

This blog never uses names. Nor dates or places or anything else identifiable to people other than meself. That doesn’t make it less true, but it’s not exactly a historical account. Things happened the way I thought they happened. You may call it fiction, I call it memories.

Faulty, just as any of your own.

I was out in a corner pub in Pondok Indah. The last thing I remembered was Claudia Bella, the cute little actress, looking hot as hell sitting on the next table. Her laughs sounded very ugly but she was nothing less than stunning.

The people on my table, however, were peculiar and rather engaging. Bella was a distraction but for the most of it I was listening to this raw stuff from an old man almost twice my age. It was a serious conversation albeit a rather boring one.

All sorts of things were in my mind. I struggled hard not to lose my temper and ruin the night. I wanted to talk cause hers was the only voice I could hear. Then again, it’s hard to lose a voice you always hear. It was all very weird but I really can’t give you the details. My attorney advised me not to publicly advertise any of my criminal associations with any identifiable details.

It was just all very weird and I thought she was the only person I could talk to.

I may well be living in a fantasy land, but any other person wouldn’t get it.

We now know we were joking.

It was just a weird thing. We never really took it seriously. It was a good way to relieve tension and exercise our own most primal needs. Maybe we did try at some point, to take it more seriously, but it never got to serious like any other serious conversation. I don’t know what happened, really.

I just know it was beautiful.

But then again, memories aren’t always what it was. Maybe I just want to write it that way.

Very weird night.