A note
It's a couple month. Running a year since I finished my own writing. Time pass by with a lot of talk, but I don't. Like standing besides the cliff, with a hundred sheer of stone. No words can came out from the lips. It's locked. But my mind still working. They work together with a heart. 10.57 I finished with my pen. closing a tinny book while sitting in the corner of the airport. waiting for my next flight. Is always another adventure begin from this place. A man who standing in front of me getting his own backpack too. We didn't know each other. but I guess we have the same route. Gate H is 5 meter from this chair. More than hundred, including me start to make a line. I keep the boarding pass tight, between the green passport. It's Indonesian, my country sign. I'm looking around. Judging everyone by their expression. I guess not everyone in this place right now are happy for doing this journey. Some are travel happily, some other maybe wi...