wake up call

One time, there was this girl came into my senses. She was someone I knew, not closely, just I knew with nothing special. I sat near a lake with clear water trying to fish something, either fish itself or another animal there. Sky was bright and sun didn’t throw so much heat to me. A few clouds were above my head but they were way too small to block the sunlight. I was sitting at the pier wearing my old pair of black shoes with white shirt along with my black ordinary pants.

I knew you would be here, at your favorite spot in the city. Anything you have caught?

Her sound was also familiar. She was she, the one I longed to talk to. She was there, standing calmly with her blue jeans and yellow cardigans. Her shirt was either white or broken white and her smile was like always, beautiful, so I said.

Have seen anything like bucket or box beside me?

She walked towards me, approaching silently with her snickers and she sat beside me at the pier and took a look at the wide and vast ocean ahead.

Now I understand why you like being here. Nothing stands between you and whatever lies ahead. Such a beautiful ocean.

I played with my fishing pole hoping that would attract the fish down there. I only kept my mouth shut and listened to whatever she babbled about. Ocean, sun, cloud, and the wind were her words for one or two minutes and she turned her face to me, looked at me closely as if I were an alien or new creature she had ever met.

Are you okay? You haven’t said anything since I got here.

Why would you even stop? I like it when you talk about those things.

She smiled and continued her speech and I continued listening to her stories about fairies, sea monsters, and any other magical things from her imagination. Sometimes, when she asked about my opinion of something, I just replied lightly, either yes or no, but sometimes we argued about which of our imagination was better than the other. I didn’t even remember when the last time we sat and talk together at the pier as if this had been so long that I couldn’t even begin to remember anything but her smile.

Why are you here at the pier with me, talking about things while I am fishing for nothing as you can see, for there were times I wasn’t here and you didn’t come here either?

Suddenly, she stopped talking about her dreams, they were beautiful tough, and sweet too. She looked at me with wonder.

Because you are here, obviously. I have so many dreams, things about this and that. Only this pier, where I can put my mind off things. You listen to me when no one else does. Do I not belong here?

Whatever pleases you, milady. Sorry for asking.

I didn’t even look at her when I was talking to her while she looked at me with her clear eyes trying to see through my long and shaggy hair blown b the wind of the pier. I peeked on her sight and she captured me alright. We took a look each other and she smiled again. She continued seeing the wide open sea ahead and I followed her lead with my broken eyes.

My fishing pole was never pulled and I hadn’t gotten any fish that day. I didn’t care at all. A big city with several piers and she chose to sit beside me, talking and sightseeing with me. Where was the pier exactly? I didn’t know and I never tried to begin searching a map for my location. We just sat there side by side seeing the ocean mixed up with the sky for unknown time and unknown stories. The day was calm and refreshing noon. The day was bright and windy. I didn’t even think that the day could get any better, anymore.

(from a random scattered note with some improvisation)


what is a pride? – a tale of one and the other

One man was born without even a single pride planted inside his soul when the other was born full of joy and greeting.

The poor man started its life without a single clear image of what it would become when the other could choose so many things across the street. One man had to stand when the other could lay down on the bed. One man needed to push the immoveable high wall when the other needed not. One man was tasked to obey when the other was set free. What would be the pride? Either the poor and the rich contains the answer people need to have and believe but again there is nothing force the people.

Pride was given to so many men and women even they didn’t recognize them as pride.  One embraced them when the other tried so hard to hide them. One tried to expose the others pride and another ones come to overlook them. One needed to lay low when the other isn’t just comfort to stand still. One hid their pride while they had to listen other people explained their own pride. One considered their pride as boxes of shame when the other thought their pride was something to expose.

One was hurt for so many reasons they couldn’t count when the other were so happy so they could even share their precious stories with so many details mentioned. One regretted the chances they had and had never had so much so they started to question God how they could do things they should’ve never done when the other greeted the chances they longed to get. The one who even asked for reasons behind their deep fall, was then trying to forget and to be forgotten by time itself.

Pride they never had before now turned into black stains on their coat of sadness for they were the ones who picked the wrong answer just to remind the people after them so they could take the right turns. Time they got before now turned into experience they would never get the happiness from it since time never had any of them at the first place. Senses they had now became the guidance light for those who came after them, senses which would go vanished along the with time as their old friends, buried under the same sky inside the same earth. Unease feeling of regret they had suffered from time to time, life to life, death to death, began to make their once soft and warm heart into black and cold stone reflected from their empty sight with their aimless eyes.

One was marked by the grave when the others were marked by so many parties.

(what did I write? well, please make your own conclusion)

afternoon – 3

Another afternoon after working hour.

DSC_0225 DSC_0226DSC_0223Believe or not, not long before these pictures were taken, the rain had dropped for a few minutes.

And there was no clear sign that rain had already happened.

Good day!

interviews | Daily Prompt: The Interview

If other people want to interview their idols, their favorite character both real and imaginary, then I would like to start from the simplest: me. Now, please let me begin my interview with this appeared-to-be-ordinary gentlemen.

First, how do you describe yourself?

Second and the last, how do you want your life is going to be?

Many will say or respond like “only two question? seriously?”. Well, I am glad to say that is them all, complete for me. For me, these two represents the starting point of most human being. First question will force them to think about their own self. Their characteristic, their unique values, their strength and weakness, will be revealed by answering this question. If one can’t answer the first, including me, I daresay they or me don’t know their self. Our condition today is a simple reflection of what we have done in the past and our very present and the best condition ever. So, first question is about past and today, the things that make us today.

Second question will hunt you for what your desires are, your goals, and your methods to achieve them. I’d like to say methods come later and the first thing we, including me, need to understand is what we want. Without knowing our desires clearly, we can’t make plans. We won’t do anything which has benefit for us. We will just end up in some other people’s dream, helping them without helping ourselves, and make their dreams comes true and our dreams buried deeply in long forgotten ruins of our own making. What I want to say is that we should prioritize social needs ahead of ours but that doesn’t mean we have to forcefully forget and abandoned our dreams. For me, an ideal life is when you are happy about what you do, you are currently doing, what you are planning, and community can benefit from your works and your dreams if they are about to come true.

Third, this interview is done and you may have your time to think and thing again about your answers. This interview should be conducted every day before you end your day or go to bed but it is your choice to do this interview again or not. May this interview bring goods for you and Good day.

hands on deck, anyone?

There was once a moment when I questioned myself the reason behind hiding my hand inside my jacket pockets. Not trouser pocket, jacket pocket. For some reason I feel weird to pocket my hand there but jacket is another thing.

First reason would be that my environment for that time was cold so every time weather grows cold, I think it is only natural to hide my hands inside jacket pockets. Looking for warmness, right?

Second, looking good all the time. For example, well you know all of the examples. Every good-looking, cool, mysterious, and awesome character always ends up with either nice suit with hands in the leg pockets or bringing very big and long broadsword along with long sleeveless shirt and long black trouser completed with black pair of shoes or both. So, you may try to be like one of them.

Third, no need to touch body part of somebody else. For example, if you accidentally touch people, especially a girl or immature woman in the sidewalk, you may get some problem with their hypersensitive skin of some body parts and if that happens, you are almost certainly going to be called pervert. Trust me, you don’t want that to happen. The other is if you happen to bump a big guy and his companions. I guess you are going to have a big fight ahead and you will definitely lose unless you have already mastered some martial arts. Different story will come if you nudge them with your shoulder or elbow, events like those are not likely to happen as long as you say sorry and keep walking.

Fourth, keep people away. There is a stereotype that if one hides their hands inside the pocket, either jacket or pants, they are surely worth not invited to talk and this is the best thing ever to you who prefer being alone and think of more important things to getting loud inside the crowd and wasting your time in talks you never begin in first time. So,what I am saying is if you sometimes want to alone for a moment, put your hands inside your pocket and slowly other people will ignore your presence.

Fifth and this is reason of my own making, my hands have no use at that time. I mean that there are always events, moments, where I have to talk with someone or audience of which my hands have nothing to do. So, instead of swinging my hand around for some pointless activities, I put one of them inside and the other out because at times I have to hold my microphone.

Hands on deck? I prefer inside my trouser/jacket pockets. Good day.



How many times have I watched you from afar?

It’s been so long since I first met you under the rain of February. The rain which was heavy as was my feelings to convey a message. The downpour which understood the complain of my whisper about the sound it made to cover all my intention to say anything to you.

Under the different umbrella we were back then, it was so sudden so we could dare to see our look each other. How hard it was just to say hello in the middle of noises caused by the thunder and we blamed our inability to talk to the innocent water from the sky.

We stood on the same side of the street with some distance between us forcing us to take a sharper look to each other. Heads turned left and right to see if we could catch each others eyes.

How many times have I watched the rainbow alone?

Now that I am not there anymore and you are not here any longer, I stand under the vast sky and white clouds. Sky has never been so bright like it is today. Either I start to forgive the impudence of myself or you start to forgive that there wasn’t any chance to us to be met again. Rainbow comes and goes as the day changes. My mind evolves from nothing to so many things inside and still I can’t understand the memory of your speaking back before the fall.

I am not sure how many times I gaze to an emptiness when I am looking my computer monitor at work. I can’t count either how many times it has been that I turn my head to the window just to see if you are sitting on one of those bench outside. I’m still wondering your very presence as if we have just met yesterday so that I can’t stand to watch my mailbox containing messages from you.

I wonder how it has been in you, the time of which has been long forgotten and dismissed, which I carry all around until I find the suitable trash bin. Either there are many place I have to attend and leave, I still don’t where I can find you again except in my exhausted memory which soon will be erased and disintegrated by itself. Surely I have no backup plans and there isn’t any hard drive to wrap all events stored there.

I have met many uncertainties along my steps yet you still remain as one of the certain.

(from one of many memento mori with some changes)

talk about love | Daily Prompt: I Want to Know What Love Is

Well, since this is love what I have to write about, I won’t talk in detail about love between parent and their children or husband with his wife, wife with her husband, children to their parents, teacher to students, and another kind of similar thing, no.

So, We each have many types of love relationships — parents, children, spouses, friends. And they’re not always with people; you may love an animal, or a place. Is there a single idea or definition that runs through all the varieties of “love”?

Other thing about love that I understand is comfort. I might say that when you feel comfort in/on/under/above/with/without something/things, that is love. For example, many pictures I had taken were pictures of trees, fields, farms, and sky under any weather was there, and one of many reason I took them is that I feel comfort when I was among them. Being with them gives me inspiration, calmness, and refreshments. So, yeah, I love them as much as I like my food but not the way I love food.

Another thing about love is that love is conditional. Back then when I was a more stupid kid than I am today, I believed that love was unconditional like you love someone with no reason, something like love at first sight but then I realized it was wrong.  There is always at least one thing that makes you love something. For example, I love trees and being under their leaves because they way they give me clean and fresh air so I can breath easily and healthy and that way makes me be able to think better. I love watching how clouds are moving and where they are moving because that reminds me of so many facts including how small I am in with this universe. See? They are always reason to love and not to love. Why do your parent love you? My best guess is that because you are their son/daughter. Why does He love us? Because we are the best amongst His creations. Well, the last part is based on faith tough but you get my point right?

One last thing for sure about love is that you struggle so much so you can endure the pain it causes you beyond your limit of pain tolerance. Seriously, if you love one thing, don’t you want to the thing gets what it deserved best? If you love your pet, don’t you want to give them the best food ever you can give to them? If you have your parents alive, don’t you want to give them what they need and want most from you (well, this is personal-based), and if you love your God, don’t you want to give Him your best worship, your best loyalty, your best obedience to follow His commands, to follow His envoy’s teaching at your best?

Sure they said love means anything and everything but, ..what am I kidding? I don’t understand that word so far and I only am able to tell you this much. Any suggestion is welcomed and good day!