November 1st, 2023, I started writing around 4.52 pm.
I was meditating just now, trying to calm down my mind by letting them subside when not given attention.
And it came to me, some memories resurfacing, of things I've done wrong.
And once again, especially about that darn book encounter in the bookstore.
About how I enthusiastically scribble the sigils back at home, light a candle and cast the incantations.
Why again and again they come back to me. I swear that I've quit for good, but why the temptation still pay me a visit every now and then, even after almost two decades.
So I prayed, asking forgiveness once again and rebuke the temptation in the name of Jesus.
And I return to meditating.
I'm not sure that I had told you about Danny, but, here we are, Danny is a good friend from senior highschool.
Danny is the friend that invited me to church, where the way back to Jesus is chanced upon me.
But before that, let me tell you about a way back in years hidden secret.
I was 6, or was it 7? Or 8? That's not really important.
What I'm assured of, is the place.
My parents does their monthly groceries shopping for toiletries and suchalikes in this particular store in Damar plaza, the miniature in scale of a shopping departure.
Damar plaza, is only 2 alleyways apart from home in Ujung Belakang Olo, it is the store that was attempted by the rioters as a looting target in 98's riot, only failed as the attempt was subdued by the use of tear gas by the military, and as the distance is really close to home, some escaping rioters found my house and hid inside the parking lot, behind the fence, as the police chased them.
Back at the story, I was 6 or 7, and I fancied this boxed drink, well, it's not a new story.
Y'all knew already that that Rp.1000,- boxed drink request wasn't granted.
So, this is what really happened back then.
At first I just hold the chrysanthemum tea drink, holding the carton packaging close to me.
But I don't know how, what I can remembered is, I broke the aluminium seal where you inserted the straw is.
And I drank the product.
Yes, it's stealing.
How much was it in today's currency? Rp.1.000,-? 6 cents in USD give or take.
It's not much to be honest, but I did feel guilty about it. Even to this very day.
The story, is about those hidden sin, those thievery be it on purpose, or by accident.
I admit, I'm a bad person, and I realised it now, that my heart was never clean since my first day on earth.
The Gameboy console my cousin had, I sneaked it inside my bag, just because I never had any.
I can only confess it and lived on with guilt in my heart.
I can even freshly remembered his expression and tone of speech when he called me thief with hatred in his breath when I returned the console a week later.
Game, is something forbidden in my household.
My mom's cousin, who once upon a time, lived with us for a time period, back in my 1st or 2nd grade elementary years.
Back then my dad is opening a thing similar to digital designer agency.
So I do know what a Windows 95 pc looks like, and I too experienced the electric shock a PC power button typical for those era's pc did.
Okay, that uncle, installed games on the pc, and he even taught me how to insery a floppy disk and open the cmd and type the keyword to load the games
Only for them to be uninstalled and thrown away by my dad the very night.
So, no, I didn't grow up with consoles. I don't know how does a Sega cassette games feels like, and surely never own anything be it Nintendo, or Ps, or whatever they be.
I only watch from the side, when my cousin played those game consoles that he doesn't even need to asked for but given by his dad so readily.
And that's, somehow become jealousy, and that jealousy, turn to this session of thieving.
It's wrong and I know that.
But my heart bleeds about how does it feels back then, to not have any and can't help but compares what I had with what other's have.
And maybe that's the cause of my game addiction in teenage years. So much so that I skipped school only for playing games in some rentals.
I snort at how tragic and also pitiful this memory is, tragic because those games I played back then, I still had similar genre version in my phone.
A farming game, harvest moon, which no longer exist today, but I had stardew valley. Different, yet similar in gameplay.
Or Pokémon, well, I graduated from Pokémon, but I admit, back in senior highschool, I secretly installed games in my dad's notebook, and hid the games in utter secrecy in some misleading folder and I even got some vga emulator from Danny. Those years was Pokémon sapphire, crystal or whatever series they be during Pokémon golden eras.
Now, it's during my senior highschool years.
And this one, I can confess to you, I need to defense myself. I did it by accident.
I forgot the book title.
And this occurs in Gramedia.
As usual I spend my after-school hours in bookstores, if not in some net cafe playing Seal or PerfectWorld (mmorpg back then, yes Dota exist already, but I'm not a fan).
So, it's a book, a novel about some teenage stories, still, fantasy genres, filled with fairytale, magic and such.
I admit, I read Harry Potter, all 7 books, and also some companion books beside the novels.
That's back then, okay. I've burned the novels already.
(Funny and also tragic, since I burned a fictional novels about magic while I did written a full in-depth grimoire about real magic in one of my other blogs [ I had several back in my highschool days], back in the days about real magic, how to, techniques, insights, knowledge, all that is inside my head, a perfect copy of it. sadly I long forgotten the address and the password to the blog, so it's still there somewhere. Please don't try to find it, promise?)
Where was I?
Yes, Gramedia, and the book is, initially, what I want to buy, but as I'm still browsing for other things, I put it i side my baggy pocket, I'm wearing a light brown cargo pants to mall, with side pocket big enough to hold a Bible on my knees pocket. So, I thought, let's put it there for later so I can use both hands to hold books and stuff.
By the time to pay, at the cashier, I forgot to submit that book. It's still in my pocket and I long forgotten it completely.
Only to realize it when I'm back at home, unloading my hauls, and found the thin novel book inside the right pocket.
Darn it... I don't know what to do, well back then I don't know.
But if it's today, I will return the next day, bringing the barcode sticker to pay for it. Which I did on daily basis nowadays, returning the next day to pay the misscounted item, despite it's the cashier fault nowadays and not mine.
That's how integrity is trained I suppose, not that I claim I'm a whole better person now.
I am not, it's just I lived on with guilty conscience and the burden made me more aware of how much damage I've caused by my past act.
And lastly, the embarrassment.
This time, it's rather a comedy drama.
I went to Daan Mogot, as usual, but with Danny, on week days.
Because he need to buy something, and so am I, my devotional booklet read for the next month release.
So, on the 2nd floor, where the Christian bookstore is, I went ahead and Danny followed suit.
What we didn't know is, two girls saw us from somewhere ahead.
It's unthinkable for an introvert like me to think this script for once, but it's wild, they asked Danny for personal contact number, not his, but mine. I still smirk my face like a duck and giggles in my head when I think of this.
So I run away.
It's literally a chasing scenario where I exited the store, after paying of course, and went to another story, only to be followed from behind.
So I went away again, and again, until they lost me.
Danny? He's long vanished to thin air.
Only to be found in Gramedia, we store our school bags there.
So he hid in one of the row of book shelves, leaving me to my fate.
My stretching my neck to find him, turns out brought up suspicion.
I was suspected for stealing.
Me and Danny was brought to the emergency exit, where we got questioned about and get probed for anything from the store.
Mind you, perhaps it's the drama of looking here and there that brought the suspicion, or was it my face recorded in the cctv some other day about that missing novel book.
But yeah, that one experience is an embarrassment, it's rather a humiliation instead of embarrassment to be truthful, but well, I did a mistake once there, and it's simply normal to get suspected.
Another one for the climax.
Fast forward to 2011.
It's last seminary years, and lastly, the last summer missionary trip.
It's not in Indonesia, but rather, Hong Kong.
Mind you, I had this old jacket, I worn for years, and maybe some months unwashed. The original color was dark green, but it's black of soot and dust when I'm in Hong Kong, yes I brought it, and wear black jacket like that on the middle of burning heat of summer days in Hong Kong.
After a return tram ride from Victoria park toward Causeway Bay, the last stop before returning to our hostel provided by the church somewhere in Queens road building.
I got stopped by men in blue uniform, some dress that I only saw from Stephen Chow movies. But suddenly 3 officer approached me, and as I am saying, I am Chinese in my ancestry, and this darn small eyes and facial features, mistaken me as locals. Good point if you asked me from another perspective, it means I can blend perfectly with locals. But not good in this situation. My Cantonese is whatever I can find from talking to the migrant workers from Indonesia in church that I served for a month, and it's only a week since I'm here. So, no, I can't speak Cantonese back then.
So I replied in English, and the officer, can't speak English.
While my other friends, is long gone ahead of me. They left me behind, unaware of the situation at their back.
As a civilized human, and moreover a tourist, I complied.
But the proceedings took too long and I'm soo lost in someone's country.
So, after some asking and answering with their broken English.
The problem is my choice of clothing articles. I was suspected initially as a drug smuggler. Lol
Who wears black in this scorching 34°C summer?
Well, I did, it's hot, I know, but at least I'm not going to get tanned. And my goes to color in my wardrobe is always black since I prefer black most of the time.
So yeah, it's a funny one if you were in my shoes.
And I was this guy 180cm tall, weird tilted bowl haircut with this young look. Oh, mind me, I was 21 back then, so give me some space, I looked younger than my age and for my age with that funny haircut back then.
I did this daring manoeuvre for my thesis presentation, I forgot to cut my hair, and hair is one love hate topic in my campus back then. I once got chased by my dean, Mrs. Cecil, with scissors in her hands, because I'm always the one and only theological student with long hair, for a girl it's okay for sure, but I'm not a girl, wrong choice of reasoning she answered from behind me.
So yeah, it was a daring move of mine, I took a scissor from the kitchen and trimmed my hair to the barely acceptable standard of thesis presentation dress code.
So, to fix the damage, I asked the office-boy from campus, Rudy Hutabarat, God give rest for his soul.
I'm quite close with him as a friend back in those years, since I'm pretty much friends with the office staffs back then.
So, Rudy, trimmed the hair into whatever the resulting end that I wear to Hongkong.
Flat line around my head, only a small tilt on my left eye, a bit longer on that side by mistake.
Wait, I think I had a digital evidence for that, oh well, It's on Facebook, my Hk's mission trip album, I took a wefie with some girls from Chongqing international student program.
It's warm inside my heart when I reminiscing about things from the past.
Oh well.
I thought for myself that this might be an embarrassing topic and a down mood story, but I felt release in the end, and warm.
That whatever happened back then, took part in the play to make me like today. Not perfect still, and not even good enough. But at least I'm trying my best to be.
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