Recycling

Instant Noodle and Candy Packages Without Artificial Sweeteners

Hollowly. The shadow that rises like the sun in its softness adds D to the vitality, forming a lifeline that I could never get past.

The waves accompanied the paper that was originally scattered in seconds and minutes that was lost in the middle of the crowd, leaving a footprint that traces the time.

***

Puuuh, I wrote something that doesn't even have a direction.

That's the note that day I wrote in the notebook, almost ate a sheet of paper until I didn't think the notebook was even blown away. A notebook about all this.

Notebooks that have passed through tens of thousands of islands and cities, even passing through countries in fantasy worlds are filled with ambiguous and messy imaginations.

For a moment staring at the row of signboards that are plastered in the corner of the kilometer there, in the interior of the village that can not be achieved by millions of words. It was very interesting to separate half the words of Daksa with a gaping mouth. Stared wide open forcefully.

In the stream that extends and the path of journey to the soul of the soul that now stretches with the vocabulary of fullness.

This niskala, when bound, unites him in a relationship of service and hope, which is bound to a sentence that may be heard lying by the ear, a sentence that is only temporary, but only temporary, he was not always on the side of a grieving man.

Sometimes in some things there is a line of vision that changes, there is a kind of color that blinds the eyes. And the rest of it in this case, I think silence is better than talking.

You know about all this? I should have stayed strong to be myself, without having to bother pretending to be someone else. Once in my life, I imagined one imagination using a strange sentence.

The sluggish note that is not worthless, recounting the speech through the writing of superchaos that I had written about the rain that fell in August with the drops of water that is red. From the night sky it went down to the roof of the house. Wet wetness drenched the streets.

The path of life that never meets its point of certainty. The life path that feels empty is leaping, there is nothing special.

And the deep red rain fell to fill the vessel. The last time I looked in August, right at night the moon showed a bright light. Staring at the eyes of all that is beautiful, but in fact flawed logic.

I'm like a piggyback. You know I can only stand still on the branches of trees with thick leaves, only able to quietly look at the moon there while making a sound of hope. Hoping with one hope that I can say is impossible to do. As far as the eye can see that the distance between me and himself is very far from the earth to space, a single question appears like an LED screen that lights up and is laughable. The question of a phrase fell on my mouth without me noticing. Can I who can't do anything and don't have anything of this to have it? The hands did not reach.

The moon is bright there. What is the power of a piggyback bird. Missing a moon with a gaze. Accompanying that night on the tree branch followed by a row of stars that numbered one, two, three and four to the number of five hundred million beautiful sparkles on the horizon of thought, I could only stare for a while without being able to linger with a heartbeat that felt like a sharp weapon stabbing, he said, even at a glance I felt as if I could not afford to look at him longer like scraping the succum with a light head while occasionally sighing.

The coldness of the air that comes in the form of wind. Waving, shouting sounds felt like a soul-soothing rhythm that I could not imagine why it would only make me recall the past. The memory that appeared at that time seemed to surf the pace with the santaclaus deer train and at the start of the starting line was from the height of the iceberg that reached the height of the cloud. This shaking of the feet rests with hands holding tightly. Then the countdown. One ... two ... three ...!

The train rolled as if I was jiggling from there. Heart rhythm should not be asked. The blink of my eyes froze, wide with the wind that was beating on my face. Until I was unaware I had reached the bottom. The scenery looks like a soft mat with clean white foam.

The deer returned to take me to the sky. I sat down to enjoy and stare at the sight until it felt like no matter what else, cheerful. It was as if I had discovered something new and forgotten all sorts of things in life that felt okay until the deer kept flying and took me to look at the tiny world before my eyes. And all this is very clear about my logic-deformed thinking.

The story of the plaintiff is not only able to be divorced in the scratches of gray-leaf withered ink. Once in my life overshadowed an ocean of words that are immeasurably wide from side to side to fill the entire earth and the water spilled and scattered all in space. Fiction, all this is a logic flaw. But, there are two things for me about the event that are real and not flawed in logic. First of all, I've loved a woman in my life who I could never say that word to her. Second, once in my life I looked in silence and then hid it and kept behind a hidden gaze I always longed for a woman I never met at the meeting point. Between a million pieces of silence and doubt. Complying with this sentence of longing without me caring is torturing myself.

You don't know what that feels like? It's like your favorite song that you want to play using a DVD and haven't heard it yet, when the power goes out. As simple as that, about longing that feels stuck in the heart.

I know this is different from your perception. Everyone has their own definitions and ideas. Erred? Please open debate in public.

“Narak, you seem too naive in loving you that woman.”

The man in black seemed to want to start his lecture on me. I looked at her smile and still did not answer.

A million words of advice. If I can't take it, it's free. In this case I have to be prepared to listen.

So far in my life I don't like judgmental talk. I don't like being advised in such a pretentious style. Because from the past until now I always feel alone with your own perception, without caring much about the people around me.

Some of the life I've been through is sometimes confusing like streaks on paper. There was one or two events that I went through with Wapta and several co-workers at that time felt like a flowing river.

I follow the styles of those who are familiar with each other. Although on the other hand there are different things, I am a hypocrite who never considers many things. Wapta and Jazu, as well as some co-workers. Even Big Boss with his ferocious temperament.

All the past is eventually passed no matter how bitter or sour it feels and in the end it will only be a shadow that I do not understand. One or two explanations in the library I sometimes find.

Some time later, in a matter not long, the explanation of life vanished from my head and the contents of my head again elaborated on a long reflection that was all in vain, remembering the past that continues to be imagined.

I glanced at the person in the black suit next to me who was driving and began to lecture me about the life I was living.

“I apologize for all this. You're right, I'm too naive. I can't explain it to you either. Not because of anything, I really can not explain it and somehow for me it feels difficult.”

The man in black clothes now seemed to be laughing and lowered his voice. “Narak, you don't need to explain it to me and explain all that for what?”

He didn't want to let me answer his words. I will answer in my heart, but he continued to talk and like to stop me from talking, “You don't have to explain it because I've heard all your stories, Narak. Your story of how longing that only you know how deep and wide it is. Narak, I think about you that you have a confusing life experience, you are a person who feels at home in that phase continuously and that doesn't bore you? Really, you're a great human being.”

It was too much and I didn't like it. The man in black seemed to smile with his words of praise that I felt as fierce as filled the entire car. While I was at that time running out of vocabulary and it's best that what I do now is to choose silence. The man in black was briefly chatting with me as he stepped on the gas pedal.

Seconds to seconds as the black car swerved at the maximum speed I could not imagine splitting the city streets, some riders seemed to be moving away as if giving way.

Nimble to turn and overtake other riders like the road is free of obstacles and belongs to someone who at will break through and overtake other riders. Passed dozens of cars and trucks. The speed is not very much I can imagine.

I rubbed my face, divorced the fear within me. With such speed it feels like being reflected in the brain about death and a bunch of blood.

Gosh gosh? I shook my head. My heart was beating hard and my stomach was shrinking. I hold briefly. I rubbed my face a second time, in contrast to Martin Sakiranjana who was focused in the back seat staring at the book and seemed not worried at all.

That's my reason. The person in black was like staring at an understanding, it seemed. I am thankful that the car speed is back to normal.

“You know what time it is?” The man in black was staring at Tanya.

I quickly looked at the watch. Sure enough, soon college lessons will begin. It's almost too late. I just realized this because we were too busy talking about this and that was until finally what happened. Time ticks from minute to minute.

“That's my excuse, Narak. I see you fear and reason like that to me, you have nothing to fear because every day I go through the streets. All of this is actually used to me going through at maximum speed and wipe your face that I see now on your forehead drenched in sweat water.” The man in black looked at me and now gave me a tissue.

Yeah— was right it turned out, my sweat in the forehead area fell, my heart beat gradually recovered from the previous thump and felt relieved when the black car was back on the road at normal speed. All this time in my life, not long nearly two years ago, I was afraid of my own name death, somehow some things about death that often imagined even made me faint, I felt faint, unconscious for almost seventeen hours.

Worried about a life question I couldn't answer.

I have written some short questions in my own life that until now all those questions have not been answered by me, about who will be my halal lover and with him in minutes, hours, hours, the moon and the year or forever remain in my life and the inner room that forms a memory and a story that I can either look happy or not, also about the question of whether I can feel a bright future like the success of achieving all the dreams that I have wanted to explore this world from one place to another and the last question in my life is it about where my death is? The last place I lived in this world.

As for the last question, I don't want to imagine it now. Even my sweat sweat slowly I wiped with a piece of tissue and tried at this moment to calm the previously turbulent feeling.

The first question in my life I can't be sure fully whether Wapta is really my soul mate or not?

On the other side that I was currently unmoved, staring flatly at the gigantic fireball that was shining in the sky. Often at that time I daydreamed of things that I could not deny from just memory and I had realized everything, even so clearly as I looked at a basic mathematical knowledge that was not comparable to this. Knowing a glimpse of it is impossible if until now this self is still silent and silent, without saying a word about my feelings directly to him. From the past and since a long time I was with him who is currently separated from both body and communication, different countries. I hope that this still-buried feeling will meet its meeting point and until now I can still feel everything. A feeling that seems eternal.

Feel how that love and longing is present to me. How it felt like reality that perched and hummed rhymes with a rhythm that made my eyes hard to sleep. On nights full of longing for himself alone.

I stared at the departure of the plane carrying the figure I loved. Just able to stare behind the airport glass. The plane whizzed and disappeared, shortly piercing through the clouds.

Instant noodle packaging in the form of beautiful packaging was seen in the hands of one of the children. He gave it to me.

I was astonished to ask, but had not had time to say it, the little boy ran over to a woman who might have been his mother. They both worshiped each other.

I also returned with a smile. I don't know why I'm still staring at the package of noodles? And that's when it turned out to be behind an instant noodle package in the form of a beautiful package that stored a folded letter. Gosh gosh? I saw it like a surprise I could feel.

I never thought of such a thing. It's a letter from Wapta. I slowly opened the letter with my heart beating.

...Narak, I left this letter to one of the children. Oh, ja. When that little boy gave you this instant noodle package, what did you say to him? Don't forget to thank, don't be a cocky guy, yeah right there. Remember always this message, watch out until you forget!...

...We split up today, yeah. Hopefully next time we can meet again....

...This letter is from Wapta. He said he was now on the plane, sending greetings to Narak who was there smiling....

You know, Wapta. It was like the artificial sweetenerless candy I received. Natural sweetness like you who when angry and raving with your temper that I liked from the past until now.

I hope this noodle package gives some good news someday. Until a few months passed and the package of noodles was lost somewhere? I forgot to really put it down.

Hours searching. The results did not meet, I sighed fretfully in a sad voice.

I apologize because on that day, I accidentally lost it, for some reason it seems like again and again I made a small mistake that I myself felt strange and that was unintentional.

Is this a sign that the two of us are not in a match?

I exhaled. Someone beside me in a black suit stared, then asked me who was wrong for all the events that had happened? The answer to all of that I think it's been known for a long time. Far from the previous chapter.

I replied firmly that I was the one who was wrong about all this and all this time I was the one who always felt right in all actions and in various blind eyes opportunities that I could not all repeat revert.

Maybe now the Wapta has changed and even hate me with everything I have done so far.

Disappeared from him without word and without a word of question.

Even if my thousands of apologies soar to the clouds continue to reach the atmosphere or even outer space and the Galaxy until the apology breaks down into tiny particles and scatters in all directions. I thought that apology meant nothing more when Wapta really hated me. The biggest mistake of my life I ever made.

The most important question for me in my life right now is does Wapta hate me now? I must know the answer, that is now I want to go to Indonesia to know about all the truths of my erratic thinking and do not know the point of direction of his search. From everything I imagined it was some sort of graffiti that could mess with the mind.

“Narak, it seems like you are currently thinking negatively.” The man in black interjected what I had said about myself since.

“Didn't you ever say love to her?” He asked as if he was making sure.

“If you really are a student. One day you will know for yourself the answer to all that, right now you must be able to eliminate all the negative thoughts that exist in you. You should be able to do what is best for your youth now, Narak. Like most of what parents want in their children. Learn to be a young man who can take lessons from just remembering the past.”

The man in the black suit is now voicing a lecture to me. Act with a wise and pretentious temperament. However, on the other hand I think he just wanted to comfort me and try to calm my feelings that I was feeling.

I stared at the nod with a simple smile. Our conversation in the black car that kept driving down the street was nowhere near the lecture hall. Until I didn't feel the car stop in the parking lot, I didn't talk anymore.

These footsteps came down from the car followed by Martin Sirikanjana with a face that tried to make meakur to keep cheerful.

The man in black waved with a warm smile towards us. I don't know why I look at him like a father to me.

I have never felt what a father looks like. With me still staring, he passed away and the black car returned to the streets. Until it was completely lost in my sight, I was still stunned overshadowing with a chaotic feeling.