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 with a fear, or lazy, or angry, or lonely.
I sighed.
Which one am I?

My feet took one step forward.
Giving my passport and boarding pass to the officer.
Then smiling.
Bismillah...
I'm flying


  

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