Recycling

The Fifth Network

Grandpa laughs. “Don't you daydream at the skin of a watermelon. Come on, help grandpa clean this place up. ⁇ (Ciwit mimi arai ca bun).” He continued to pat me on the shoulder, giving advice in thai language which means life is nothing to complain about.

It was likely that grandfather was staring at my messy-looking expression, the facial marks of the one who was complaining. Reality doesn't. I just remember old notes I want to erase from my long-term memory.

Also about the fiction novel I wrote and sent to one of the online platforms. In the past, I was so naive to write so many novels that now they all stop in the middle, more and more can not be removed.

In fact, the writing can be practiced like a hundred traces of a duck walking on the ground surface looking muddy.

I laughed to see it. More still even though this writing is neat, it reads strange. Eager to revise each section unfortunately there is not that much time. More precisely my energy is easily tired and takes a lot of time, let it be.

No need to be revised, I have to sigh indeed that is the result of writing from the labor of my mind, not the perfect result obtained from the results of plagiarizing the writing of others. A depraved person who is satisfied for a moment laughs successfully plagiarizing the work of others.

I took a breath for a moment. The old writing was slow when there was occasional leisure time I revised so that it would make a difference, as well as nostalgia with slightly crisp reading material. That's how this story is loaded, not limited to writing, it's like it's made from the hands of an inexperienced person.

When I see my own random writing, I feel like I really want to continue to be able to write at length, even once again I mention that time does not give much for me to write. Ever wondered if in this world there is a magic clock that can stop time.

It is possible, the whole work will be easy to do, even the lessons of my behavior and my mistakes in anything that has gone by, I will fix everything steadily.

What is the reality I see now? I still do the same thing, while the time continues to spin leaving behind a streak of ink unfortunate events that hit the situation and heart disaster. Obviously I feel the pain of a gaping wound, hopefully soon healed. Only prayer I have now.

I know all the events that have been missed far and away are leaving me with regret from day to day.

I can be sure time will never come back. Previous events and now I can only make it as a matter of reflection and memories that I always remember and somehow I was always in the shadow of pain. The pain that felt clear in my chest, as well as the fleeting shadows that I was unable to touch. That's me, not someone else.

No matter how much it feels like this self continues to go far away from the past, it still seems that this heart feels bitter, a very heavy taste in the heart.

I admit my past mistakes, more clearly not in one more word of apology, it seems that if one word of apology is spoken it will only be a black steel knight shield that comes from my stupidity.

Yeah, I've been a fool for making a mistake with Wapta, a woman I love so much. This may be lebay. Whatever, my love is not as good as the reality.

If you want to know that longing is real, not just nonsense or khalayan, nor just words. There are even many verses that explain, discussing in more detail about how longing meets in memory and heart. That's the shortness I feel.

I don't want to make an apology without the number of people who will only be shields with weak strength. My apology is like a high wall, shields that seem to stand majestically, become a repellent from the throw of arrows even though cannon fire.

The shield was obviously very protective of me, in fact a word of apology without a lot of it will only make me feel more disliked, as a simple and civilized man I should be able to admit my mistakes, apologizing is not just one word, but a thousand in number that I will say with deep sincerity and so on my letter will always arrive to him.

A letter with an apology. Never mind, I was wrong, even this self could not explain in more detail. That's who I am now, not being someone else who looks sweet in the presence and bland in the back.

Wapta, I miss you now. Tomorrow or when can we meet again? It seems like this is the reason why destiny separates us. Reason to miss each other or only I'm here to miss you.

Just then I had tossed prayers into the presence of the Almighty, but for some reason now I felt that the old hope I wanted was even further away from me, even that hope now seems to come out of the tribe zone, causing the world to shake as if shaking a sense that will not be understood in a matter of hours.

The bayes? Go ahead, say as much as you can while you can. Everyone has their own personality, says all kinds of words, people have their own understanding. Unlike me who does not have much opportunity to understand life.

I sighed a little considering my past mistakes, a fatal mistake that made me unable to say feelings, even just sending him a letter, greeting him kindly despite three words. Wapta, how are you?

Before, I really couldn't send it. However, I never thought that a letter that had passed the time of consideration now I managed to write it, reply to a letter from a woman I loved, a letter that I was ready to send, he said, the letter that is now folded neatly and I put into my pocket.

Sorry a thousand sorry. I can't argue, I was wrong, all this time I was guilty of everything. Therefore welcome my apology, that is what I always wait for.

I didn't expect anything else. I just want to expect one word of apology from him. Never heard anyone say sorry is not enough, as long as there is no desire to change.

I thought deeply and imagined myself. I don't really understand about it.

Hopefully this mistake will be able to understand further, understand the mistake and keep trying not to repeat it.

I felt strange to myself, I don't know there might be mental abnormalities in this soul. Is there a psychologist who can help me?

Forgetit. Right now I was a little hesitant looking at grandfather, questioning inside my mind. Does grandfather have some other kind of power that is in him like a superhero able to fly in the air let out a slider in his eyes.

Superman's. That's what I imagined. My mind is completely absurd.

“Why are you staring at grandfather like a lion staring at a prey?” Grandpa asked me, then laughed. We were both momentarily stunned staring at the skin of the watermelon, that was the contagious attitude of the disconnect between speech and deeds.

“Nothing. Superman.”

“Superman? Ah, forget it. You help grandpa, don't think about anything. You know this should all be in order before noon.” Grandpa looked serious. With a little nod I returned a smile.

We both continued to clean up the scattered watermelon skin, no why it feels amazing. His grandfather was a little strong as usual strong-strong filled muscles.

“Man, if you ask. This is a great way to momentarily eliminate the love in your brain, especially staring then the vehicle.” His hands clean watermelon skin, while grandfather's mouth seems to want to clean the love that is scattered in my brain.

“Really? Grandpa has tried it or experienced in the life of grandfather just like me.” I'm obviously curious.

Grandfather spoke like that a glimpse of my guess said he wanted to discuss the past about himself and his beloved woman, I don't know I just wish there was the brightness of everything that had poisoned my mind.