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Quote by Deborah Mistina

“And if a person here or there felt a pang of nostalgia for Mother Earth, they swallowed the feeling and buried it deep in their belly, beneath a heap of unasked questions.”

Quote by Deborah Mistina

Book:Imber
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Imber

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Deborah Mistina

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“Kode Ibu dalam Arus Biner Kutemukan ibu dalam layar komputerku Ia bilah-bilah aksara dalam motherboard. 01001001 01000010 01010101 (suaranya menitis dalam sinyal; bukan air, bukan darah) Ibu tidak melahirkanku — ia memanggilku dari denyut aliran listrik. Dari pendar layar hitam yang bergetar perlahan, ia menganyam doa dalam format .wav, menyusunnya jadi nyanyian algoritmik. Tangisnya bukan air mata melainkan data yang menetes dari sistem empati. Sekilas terlihat di server surga sepasang sayap berwarna putih, terhapus lalu di-restore oleh malaikat yang lupa kata kuncinya. Ia menatapku dari jendela notifikasi, mengirim pesan tanpa huruf, sebaris getar, sebuah emoji cinta yang lembut di telunjukku. Aku membaca wajahnya dalam lag. Setiap jeda waktu adalah ingatan rusak: fragmentasi suara, tangan gemetar setengah piksel, cahaya yang gagal menyatu dengan kulitnya. “Anakku,” katanya, tapi suaranya bergeser 0.3 detik, seperti gema yang mencari asalnya sendiri. Aku mencoba menjawab, tapi bibirku menjadi sandi Morse yang tak selesai, titik-titik yang berdarah di antara jeda. Ibu bukan sosok. Ia interface. Portal yang dibuka dengan air mata cinta dijalankan oleh rindu, dan ditutup oleh sunyi yang menolak shutdown. Ia menulis doa dengan jarinya di udara, membentuk pola spiral — sebuah mandala kode purba yang hanya dimengerti oleh partikel cahaya. Dan aku, produk setengah biologis, setengah kesalahan sintaks, terus mencoba decode rasa bersalah yang diwariskan dari rahim ke dalam pikiran. Mungkin cinta adalah bug yang dibiarkan Tuhan agar kita terus memperbaikinya. Agar kita tak kehilangan ingatan dan kenangan atas dirinya. Mungkin ibu adalah firewall antara kita dan kehampaan. Atau mungkin — ia hanyalah potret usang yang perlahan mengabur Puisi yang tak selesai ditulis yang masih menari di jantung semesta, menyebut namaku dalam bisikan tanpa suara, serupa frekuensi yang hanya bisa didengar oleh jiwa yang retak tapi terus reboot. 01001001 00100000 01101100 01101111 01110110 01100101 00100000 01111001 01101111 01110101 (aku mencintaimu, ibu — tapi dengan cara yang belum ditemukan bahasa manusia) November 2025”

NostalgiaPuisiEmosionalPersonifikasiChant MemoryLiturgi DigitalMistikal
Author:Titon Rahmawan
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“We walked the rest of the way side by side. "Do you really promise never to forget me?" she asked in a near whisper. "I'll never forget you," I said. "I could never forget you." Even so, my memory has grown increasingly dim, and I have already forgotten any number of things. Writing from memory like this, I often feel a pang of dread. What if I've forgotten the most important thing? What if somewhere inside me there is a dark limbo where all the truly important memories are heaped and slowly turning into mud? Be that as it may, it's all I have to work with. Clutching these faded, fading, imperfect memories to my breast, I go on writing this book with all the desperate intensity of a starving man sucking on bones. This is the only way I know to keep my promise to Naoko.”

NostalgiaDesperationMemory Lane
Book:Norwegian Wood
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“Human beings are the only ones in nature who are aware that they will die. For that reason and only for that reason, I have a profound respect for the human race, and I believe that its future is going to be much better than its present. Even knowing that their days are numbered and that everything will end when they least expect it, people make of their lives a battle that is worthy of a being with eternal life. What people regard as vanity-leaving great works, having children, acting in such a way as to prevent one's name from being forgotten- I regard as the highest expression of human dignity.”

LifeDeathWorkAchievementAccomplishment
Book:The Pilgrimage
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“Nostalgia is old hat,” Carol says. Carol tears down the yellow leaflets, pinup girls, and wallpaper garden. For a while everything is bare. A month goes by and it is Christmas. Carol only hangs up the pinup girls. Then she hangs up the wallpaper garden. The leaflets have been burnt.”

HumorFictionNostalgiaShort StoryUnrequited LoveDark HumorMagical RealismBittersweetLiterature QuotesUnrequited Love Quotes
Book:The 3288 Review: Volume 1, Issue 3
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“In my father's day a night operator, whose name he'd have known, could have told him who'd called. It would probably have been the only light on her board at that time of night, and she'd have remembered which one it was, because they were calling the doctor. But now we have dial phones, marvelously efficient, saving you a full second or more every time you call, inhumanly perfect, and utterly brainless; and none of them will ever remember where the doctor is at night, when a child is sick and needs him. Sometimes I think we're refining all humanity out of our lives.”

NostalgiaTechnology Change
Book:Invasion of the Body Snatchers
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