Recycling

Ceiling Roof Light

Grandpa came over patting my shoulder as usual. I looked at him casually. “Where have you been?” tanyanya semringah, hoarse voice sometimes coughing is still his trademark.

“Commonly, was a walk in the park.” I looked at the pile of things, put my backpack down, then helped tidy up the items that were originally stacked carelessly.

Grandfather started the pleasantries as usual, asking various other things. I sat down while explaining something that was opposite to reality.

I said at that time, I was in the park, sitting staring at a group of children chatting until a portal appeared in front of me, I entered and ventured into the subconscious. There, stood a magnificent building.

I set out on a flying horse, going to a fairytale land that no one had ever visited. Grandpa mangut-mangut laughed. The storyline is still long until I face a giant monster. It was bigger than Grandpa's shop.

There was, grandfather was satisfied to laugh, he seemed to know it was a lie that I deliberately made and was clearly caught lying, but Grandpa never got tired of listening. Grandma looked good too. I don't know if he understands or not, but I see he laughs with us.

Only the two of us had a dialogue using language that sounded foreign to him. We both often joke about each other. That's grandfather gallantly lifting things, I want to help him he said no need, can be alone.

Great indeed, mighty. Never look at age, old men like this Grandpa is still strong, muscular he said. I laughed hearing that. Grandpa tightened his muscles, looking at me steadily. Haha. Grandpa, still acting strong.

Finished helping Grandpa. I have a wish I want to write. I entered the room, opened the computer screen, I saw the digital sheet of paper before. From the past, somehow I could not write down at length the events one by one with details, also plus a little sprinkling of feelings, it was very difficult.

Although, I explain the results are still chaotic, even bland, it sounds strange. Not in harmony between speech and point of view with each other.

I've been learning to write from end to end. Autodidact. From the beginning of the morning until the evening, the smallest volume I have ever tried, the slightest word of breath typing it.

Just a while ago, it didn't happen long ago. At the limit of the doubt that I never kept a single tune of the song, some of the tones that I never kept even came out a discordant tone uncomfortable to hear.

Every day I was helping my grandfather. Sometimes I often look at the doves on the road pecking the scattered bread, as well as the daily life of the people passing by. Until now, I didn't know the feelings of others, the viewpoints of those who from a matter of free time to finding friends laughed.

Fly this thought, have far left the imaginary space, but as long as I never find a suitable point of view or only I have never gone far, he said, still silent with a blank note without caring for love, without staring at others.

Even then when the lecturer there stood up, teaching waving explained, I listened, but I could never feel the point of view he was experiencing.

I've been writing it over and over again. In each pause the sentence he delivered nimbly without thinking about anything else. Sure enough, there was nothing else, empty leaping. It's fate! I choose to forget it.

***

At night, no roof received the scorching sun, I opened the old writing. Look how messy. I slowly revised the punctuation marks, as well as various other things from the words that read strangely.

I frowned when I found the title of the writing Sky Roof Light. I just remembered it, when I met Lita Aksima, a woman who I find difficult to describe the beauty and gentleness of her attitude.

Several times I patted my face, immersing myself in a blanket. Gosh gosh? That's the best narrative I've ever written.

It's okay, I should really sigh, read back carefully, then revise the part that doesn't match the punctuation.

Lita Aksima, you are a clear sky with sun. In a feeling of abandonment, I accidentally fell into the lake of love. Not as deep as I thought of you, I was lost from the world. Your beauty and gentleness melts a taste that I could never explain, even now I set all my thoughts to the umpteenth time praising the beauty and gentleness of the attitude you have.

Near the end, I found the answer. That was the Sky Roof Light in question.

I realized I was like a stretch of land that looked like a floor. You sky sky beauty, as easy as that roof that I often stare at. I can only look at you from a distance, I can't even reach, you are the Sky Roof of Light, glowing and constantly glowing.

The post has been revised. Almost half an hour bite a finger, force yourself. I finished the punctuation revision. Although, I don't know whether or not it's true. For me the important thing now is that the writing is neater than ever.

I can't deny there were two women who used to decorate my life. Lita Aksima like reflecting mirror light, clear visible when met at the fall of a waterfall in the mountains.

The farewell exists. Real and felt very unnecessary I guess, but what power as if destiny is outlined from birth. I sighed, exited the room, opened the door— out of the house.

The air at night was not the slightest bit of hot sun, clearly seemed to joke. Everyone knows there is no sun at night. This self is not good at dialogue. Old books again, again and again accompanied me.

I looked up at the night sky. Still the same, the night glows. I know that in a living environment, friends and others can still be found. Getting to know from one person to another.

Remind in silence, do not need to explain. If in this second week, I still couldn't find a friend, it was possible that I would end up drowning in my own afterlife.

It turns out that it is true, sometimes in the sheet there is a torn paper, wretched themselves read it at the time of speech. The text in the reading is missing in half, what will be done? Soar the mainstay style, say it so that people hear it strange.

It is common for others to laugh. Tonight, I hope that what used to happen, never happens again in my future.

“What's out there? Come on, come in, never stay up late it's not good for health.” I heard Grandpa's voice exclaim. I turned my head, looking at her who was in the doorway waving, telling her to enter the house.

I never explained. I never told him, funny. Grandpa patted my hump again as usual. “Other times, you close the computer screen. I read it. Ajib once wrote you that.” Grandpa laughed, although coughing tried to laugh strongly. He stayed away, letting me be stunned.

I just remembered. Gosh gosh? I forgot to turn off the computer screen.

With a quick movement, I rushed into the room. Turns out right, the computer forgot to turn off, look at the writing file is still plastered in front of the screen. In fact, anyone other than Grandfather could read it.

Hidden feeling? I sighed in disappointment, what was hidden, all that was not hidden, even everything could be read, I really could not refute, but thankfully grandfather did not discuss, nor did he ask about Lita Aksima. Even after he kept his mouth shut, leaving a clear laugh I heard.

It's likely that grandfather felt he had experienced a youth like me so he didn't discuss it. All of that is just prejudice that is not necessarily the truth. I'm a granddaughter who prejudiced her own grandfather.

Lita Aksima, keep it stored in the sheet of paper, I will still remember you, only what is effective is preferred. That's Wapta, I chose him, wanted to stay with him.

I turned off the computer screen, went to bed, turned off the lights. In the evening I woke up feeling just as overwhelmed as I used to be, but I realized those were just old words that anyone could put together.

If I send it to Lita Aksima's place, it's likely that she'll laugh because she doesn't like poetry or an overwritten word. To a Lita Aksima. He considers the love narrative to be disgusting, illogical and so on.

Thank goodness, even where she lived I did not know, I was not suitable with her. That day, we met in the mountains.

I have every reason not to remember someone, to forget them is so easy. I also have a lot of reasons to remember it.