Recycling

The drum does not sound

From a distance a group of birds fly towards the west, while the bear walks in the mouth of the river looking for fish to eat.

Some people are healthy, some are sick. The whirl of time and the passing of the clockwork made me realize that some are destined to be. The world has stories, nature has colors.

The branches of the tree that I now stare at move in the wind, at a glance the reflection imagines them sometimes living trials like the wind. How strong the wind blew the tree branch, as long as it was still sturdy and continued to survive, passing season after season until it fell to the ground. There is all a time limit.

I realized the happiness that now disappeared out of nowhere, and then sadness appeared. That's how it is, the feeling comes and goes, the world will continue to change like the season, like the weather, also like the time of day changing night.

Leaving many beautiful memories with loved ones, as well as friends who used to complement each other, help when needed.

The relationship with him is like a brother, I do have no one but him, especially from what has happened can not return, although lamentations scatter endlessly.

As if the drum hit had no sound, no one else came to visit but him, no one else greeted me, no one else could make me smile. I don't know when? Is there a substitute for him or nothing at all.

Hope was faded by his departure, he was really gone and would not come back.

When the sadness really came, whatever word was spoken from the tongue like a person typing irregularly, that was me, was messed up by the feeling I now felt, although some said inequality, but writing looks like it's just a joke.

The fan in the room kept turning to face, hoping that the tear was dry by the blowing of the fan.

***

I decided to leave the house and take a vacation where I wanted to go. Just this time, I realized something that I felt, something that I had long lost in my life.

I want to spend time with peace of heart, forgetting for a moment the sadness of the sunyinya nights of solitude, nights that continue to haunt me with insults, voices that whisper disturbing and keep coming.

Sounds that are not from humans, but like the sound of the night wind that is often disturbing, slow but creepy.

I don't want that voice to keep coming to haunt me. “Ah, sucks, why is this so hard to forget. Come on ... The voice kept coming, haunting me and disturbing my composure.” I sat in front of me staring.

With that blue orange car, I set off to where I wanted to go. At that moment, I was traveling at a very fast speed. However, for some reason the turmoil of the moment came, in the middle of the journey again my tears spilled because I remembered the events that had become memories.

I stopped the car for a moment wiping away the tears, my feelings had ripped my heart deeper and deeper so that my gaze was not focused on driving. At that time, I chose to stop the car.

I picked up a tissue near me, playing a silent rhythm of music that sent me to the subconscious.

I closed my eyes, slowly the tears began to stop falling, my mind momentarily became calm and comfortable.

Thankfully, I sighed and then plugged in gas, continuing my journey to a village located above the mountains, the village was remote and not many residents settled there, the air in the village is quite comfortable because the breeze continues to blow, and the sun is protected by clouds.

I am grateful to be able to choose a suitable place for me to calm down, eliminate the feeling of sadness that resides in the heart.

Arriving at the village, I stayed at the fire furnace statue, the statue has a gray and red pattern, under the statue there is a rinta temple.

I calmed myself down, looked around, quoted some wisdom from the events that had happened, no more sadness, everything was like a stone thrown into the water, never mind. Something that has happened, let it be for what it regrets, and drag on in a grief that has no meaning at all.

The prayer I sent for my friend was better than the lamentation of crying that only showed the remorse of losing without evidence of sacrifice and compassion.

“Friends, my prayer for you may you be there calm with a smile, especially may we be united later in nature, wait for me. And before I catch up with you, there are many prayers I send you.”

Age limit is a secret form, nobody knows when it will end, be aware of it, I have to be patient in living life and be grateful for what it has now, for something that has been possessed, when the self has departed from this realm, it will not follow, but a body and a piece of white cloth that follows.

In the place of the mountains there are many trees and birds sound following the sound of the wind, it has almost 2 hours passed, not so felt because indeed I did not bring a clock at all, he said, I knew the analog of the clock, when I met one of the tea leaf farmers, the farmer took me to his house and that's where I could find out what time and how long it had been.

In a narrow corner of the room, something caught my attention, I asked the farmer, “What is this?”

The farmer replied, explaining that it was an inherited ancestral object, it was an old drum, but when struck there was no sound at all.

I noticed with detail how the drum looked, it looked so old, it was almost fragile around it, the painting was sculpted as if it was very detailed with perfect carving, it looks like the drum was awake and groomed by several generations.

The farmer looked at me, “Young man, why are you daydreaming?” He patted my shoulder.

I'm shaking. “No, I was just thinking about how many generations this drum has gone through?” I asked him to look at the old drum.

“This kick has passed 20 generations, we take care of it very carefully.”

I continued to talk to the farmer, that's when I began to sleepy, the farmer who saw my situation like that immediately allowed me to relax. “Maybe you're tired of time on the way? And now rest, consider it your own home.” The farmer invited.

I thank you for the kindness of the farmers. I began to lay my body slowly onto the bed, slowly falling asleep, eh.... Suddenly my stomach rang!?

Gosh gosh? Not asleep yet. The farmer laughed at the sound of my stomach, “Young man, it looks like you are starving, do not sleep first, let me charge you food.”

“Ah, do not bother, I am a strong person, now I am not in need of food.” I really don't want to bother with a decent style of making the farmer laugh again.

“Young man, you remind me of my youth first.”

“How is it possible? Are we the same?”

“No, I just remember the past, don't you think.”

“Ah, you are not very cool, at least tell me something.”

“Good, then I'll tell you.”

A moment after that the farmer sighed, continued to tell me many things, I listened intently.

***

According to the information in this village pretty much save natural resources, ranging from tea plantations are very extensive, there is also a gold mine in the village near the mountains and is flanked by two very deep ravines, the mine is quite large managed by a woman named Lita Aksima.

Lita Aksima is from urban origin she is a college student and now she is on holiday.

While her father wanted to rest, Lita Aksima temporarily replaced her father, visiting the village to monitor and watch the workers perform their duties.

~Lita aksima~

Just an impression meeting, I hope there really is a word that can explain how this happened.

I've recognized you more than anything, greetings to you. In not wanting to be sad, this soul will continue to remember you.