Recycling

A Breezy Storyline; Cowboys Have Hearts, Too

My horse now continues to dart in the middle of the desert. Leaving behind the monsters that had previously attacked. I murmured thankfully that I could pass myself off from him safely. The sigh also divorced the hot burning embers in the soul, shaking the sand and the hole of time opened. The giant hole I was looking at and now the horizon is blackened with clouds.

The rumbling wind sounded and the blow was firmer. The sand was swept away by him. I stopped the horse.

“Hole time?” I got off the saddle.

Holding hats. Look at the open hole of time. The largest desert royal palace with jinn lined up guarding the entrance. I came here for nothing, just a promise with one of the kings of the palace. One of the genies stared at my arm that had been previously hit by a monster scratch.

With magic. That jinn figure with the blink of an eye could heal the wound on my hand. I was wide-eyed at being astonished inwardly and put on a hypocritical expression casually. The genie continues to display the war that occurred between royal tribes. Two kingdoms are down. The kingdom that was standing in front of me turned out to be a former kingdom on the island that was not too far from where I lived all this time. They flew through the sky, opening up the streets that looked only the sorrow and tears of the king's mother. Seize the child.

They flew with his palace. Choosing a desert as a place to live.

That's all they showed, my identity checked with mystic tools. At that moment they knew I was just a traveler who had an official promise with the king of the palace.

After knowing that. The genies are now allowed to enter the palace. A red rug and a warm waiter's gaze welcomed my arrival. There is no need for a welcome like this, I just want to talk about a problem.

The king clapped his hands, appearing behind the room, smiling kindly. “Over time we don't meet, cowboy.”

“Begin the long journey you must be tired.” The king approached me with a respectful manner.

Ask the waiter to provide a banquet and various other things. I hold hands, take the initiative do not want much to say while still living the principles that I have been holding.

“Sorry, I'm not tired. Need you know I'm used to traveling.” I replied in a peaceful tone.

“Yes, yes, yes. You are indeed a traveller that I myself know you are ashamed to say that you are tired.”

“Heh, you misjudged.” I did not accept the king's gaze upon me.

“Ho-ho. I just found out, you're a cowboy who doesn't like to be given arbitrary grades.”

I'm mendeham. “Forget about that. Straight to the point, I don't want to linger and set foot in your rotten palace.”

“What? Foul you said?” The king looked at me unacceptable.

“Please, you're just a guest at my palace. How dare you say my palace is rotten.” He angrily called out dozens of genie guards. They put a sword.

Stopped his servants and told them to cancel the banquet they were preparing.

I laughed in my heart because I proved it. Simple things make a person change from being originally welcomed are now shrinking.

“This is just a misunderstanding.” I laughed slowly at them.

“Misunderstanding? What do you mean?” the king asked as if curious.

“Baginda king seems too tired and different from what I thought. Your kingdom turned out to be here all along, apparently. If you want to know about all this. Everything is just a misunderstanding. Misconceptions you created yourself.”

I explained in front of them. The king urged what did my words mean to say like that?

“Good, okay. I'll get to the point, Your Majesty. All this time I've known it was you who committed the murder of your own father and ran away with your wife. Bring this palace and let the kingdom fight each other. Your power is something I cannot imagine. You can still live quietly here with various other things.”

“That's a misunderstanding you created yourself with the magic intermediary of the genie you have. That day, you really have forgotten the services of a father, you perform acts of barbaric behavior.”

The king was once just a 13th-born child who would never have gained the throne. Because of something the king who is currently standing in front of me. He found a secret bottle. Accidentally rubbed it and out the king of the jinn that was reduced for almost thousands of years. The king finally gained power from the jinn that he freed and obeyed until now. During his father's murder, dozens of people waged war and the kingdom disappeared. History records that the kingdom disappeared overnight.

The newly disappeared kingdom accused the other kingdom of recklessly doing acts of magic and there was a refusal to refuse speech until it ended up being a war between kingdoms from side to side. The misunderstanding has continued and the lost kingdom has not yet returned to its place. Only an old geezer was often how in the mountain valley. He has a strong belief that the kingdom will return to its place. I read that story in the library while I was in town. The story was awkward and clear when I investigated it.

Those are all my conclusions. Not what is recorded in history books. History books only record the kingdom disappearing overnight. I have faith that it is the king of the jinn who can rule over anyone. The king of jinn was trying to trick the king who was currently standing in front of me, as well as other kingdoms that made them quarrel and quarrel with each other. The spice of hostility and resentment became the same unity they felt.

“Where do you know all that?!” The king looked at me in shock.

“It looks like you can avoid yourself from being hypnotized upon entering the door. In view, I do not believe and how could you avoid the jinn while displaying that great war. Behind that look is fake and has magical influence and anyone who stares at the look of the war they will be deceived and praise all about me and it turns out you can avoid everything.”

I admit that the king can guess perfectly, when before the screen display was displaying tribal warfare by a group of jinn. My soul is already more hypocritical with a wide expression in mind and relaxed on the face. The nature of my hypocrisy seemed to be a strong shield in warding off the magic they gave.

I have not forgotten what the king has done. He faked everything with the genie to make him free to do anything. That's now I don't want to take much of a risk. He looked at the king with a soft laugh.

“You asked me how do I avoid hypnotizing their magic? That's not important to me. One thing that matters now is that's why I said I didn't want to linger here. I reiterate I came here, only to want my rights restored as they should.”

My meeting with the king seemed annoying and I wanted to feel like I didn't say much. I know it's not easy. After a while, thank goodness I could continue on.

I'm riding on a horse. The genies opened the gate. Just before, the time hole opened. I also left the magnificent palace.

Now, there's nothing I need to worry about. I have asked for my right of return and the king has, with much consideration, agreed to return it, it is not free and it is not cheap. He told me to look for white orchids and in the desert, where should I go? But, I have no other choice.

He had an army of genies ready at any time to attack me, even killing with just a flick of a finger, dozens of swords would float towards me. The only option I can choose is to obey the will of the king.

I can only pray. Also, hoping for this identity hopefully the white orchid can be found and restore the rights that I have been fighting for.

In addition, I could not bear to look at his wife who was lying weak, helpless due to a curse of merit using the command of the jinn. As a result they need white orchids as a cure.

My choice grew by two. The sahara desert is a vast expanse of empty sand along the way, without any houses and trees.

With the heat on my face, I continued through the desert. The sun was perfectly bright, with no clouds covering it.

My horse kept running. This burning hot spring I've been through.

I exhaled. “Since staring at the fall of the kingdom. How a son kills his own father. His brothers who did not accept and other kingdoms get one chance to attack. In the end, they have their own life problems. Moreover, I know that fights and quarrels will give birth to grudges, lives he said must be redeemed. In this world, since venturing through the territory. All of that I realize can happen because the self that can not control anger in staring at an enemy. In this world, pent-up anger will give birth to grudges, grudges will give birth to hatred and as I heard that hatred is rooted to penetrate the niche of the heart and damage it. Humans can think from time to time to change seasons though, they have instincts and instincts that can distinguish antiques and classics, even looking for objects that are not touched by hands, unheard objects sound in people's ears.”

“That beautiful card is hidden in the bottom that I find hard to find. I always ask how the shape of the identity that I've always been looking for, how can I find him or bring his identity to meet a young man like me who can be seen I am just a hypocrite. If I think about it, right now I just want to continue what I want to continue in this short life. Talking to myself is okay. I won't give up so easily, the white orchid I can make sure I'll find it. I talk to myself, I still miss someone I don't even know if he loves you or vice versa. You better pray, O hopeful self.”

“Today I still love him, far too long a tone temple that I will chant in umpteenth time.”

I daydreamed along the sand road. The Sahara desert where no one was there. I wish I could last longer than anything without water, without food. Traveling is exhausting.

I wish there was a village I could make a place to rest. I was really tired and almost desperate.

***

I always thought about how the storyline could end up steadily until it reached its climax. I don't think what I'm writing is like that.

This simple concept that I wrote is indeed messy, unlike playing a video that plays repeatedly will not get bored. It's simple, about how the past events I remember. Memories that begin to disappear and return to themselves.

I just want to make something different from before and before.

In a crowded place when everyone seemed to be chatting. That was the time I still remembered about my age where it had only entered seventeen years and I was moving actively just like any other teenager, a young man who grew up determinedly with one of the two principles of life I held.

In one of the stalls that we made a place to hang out, accompany our time while relaxing. There is a place that we often use to unwind, fill time by talking about a life problem and exchanging stories.

One drink in my hand I took a slow look. Stare at them with a long breath. “You know, man. Right now I feel like giving up.”

I let out a breath. Look at the three of them sitting with me.

It's a holiday. Far from what I can explain more. The shoe polishman at the end of the park was staring at us.

“Reden or lost. It's up to you, Boi. I don't want to interfere with whatever your problem is that certainly complicated and make a headache, mending I play the same game eat chocolate.” One of them spoke.

Shocked for a moment when he heard it. My mind was less strong in this and when I heard it like particles were falling on my head, my ears widened like an atomic bomb had exploded and it seemed like my heart stopped beating. I want to say the phrase ta'awwudh billah, a sentence that contains meaning so that this heart becomes calm and calm, although we have often known, often chatting together, talking a lot here and there. Just this time, he said so and broke down the spirit that was in me.

Or indeed I am wrong because I choose to tell a story or take this matter too seriously.

“You don't want to help me? Giving advice for example, if only such a sentence I thought even my enemies would be easier to say.” I replied that I was still looking at him, which I didn't want to look at.

“Handering, Boi. How could I leave you alone. How did you forget about me who had been listening to you tell stories all this time, Boi. You know I never get tired of hearing it. Huh huh? Have you forgotten me, Boi? Just a week, you know. Just this week we haven't gathered like this and you've forgotten me?” He laughed for a moment, looking at me with that manner of behavior.

“Iya, what is it?” One of them also looked at me.

“What do you want to tell me?” Complete everything, the three of them looked at each other towards me which made me feel alone as if cornered.

“Yeah, if you want a story. Just tell us that. You know all this time we've been listening to all your stories, how it's possible that now we just change. This place is also a place that we often make as a place for us to chat with each other, exchange stories, as well as various other things that you need to know you don't have to hide anything from us, Narak.” Another one spoke.

“True it, Boi. You're a cowboy I've always called. Come on, the cowboy is not sad, he is riding his horse, darting in the vast desert there. He faced his enemies without complaining. That's what you told me that day that you wrote a novel about cowboys. Your story that day you told me by calling the villain who in the end he turned out to be good. You can't just give up.” One of the people who said bodo very now said that.

“Recipes to be happy is simple. You don't have to listen to anything that can make you feel hurt and get rid of all that easily.”

He wanted to encourage me and support me. Giving a word of speech that I know I can't answer either, only able to silently stare at a much different expression than before when I want to tell a story.

The three men compactly told me to hasten to tell it. The story of what makes me feel like giving up, feeling like losing. My life is in a troubled situation.

Life is hard for me to get what I want in a temporary hold. Also, witness a grin that is not necessarily reciprocated speech.

Just this is life now I feel about the gaze of the eye and speaking. In every way, I recognize myself as a weakling. Writing sad narratives has not been my talent all along.

I prefer narratives that contain strong intonation. Blaring in the blue sky without any burden or pieces.

If you want to know I am a man who has a weak mentality. In fact, right now I need a figure to share. Same story they. To talk and ask for advice. In the end, the three of them will listen to my story.

When I heard the words of those who told me to tell a story, for some reason now I felt reluctant, for a moment I sighed. The three of us were hanging out, talking to each other in one of the stalls near the side of the road. It's a holiday between my employees and school, too. Jazu is busy with other things, while this only leaves me with three friends who the three of them are equally compact sometimes call me cowboy.

That's because it's often when they're together that they talk to me about one of the cowboys I wrote in the script.

As they say. Cowboys are never sad. Cowboys should be brave. Mighty with a hat on his head, wearing a brown suit with a badge of golden stars, sharp jagged boots and his horse ready whenever darting in the vast desert there, tracing the territory without fear in the slightest, keep trying new things and others.

But the story I wrote doesn't mean much, man. I have not been able to describe how the figure evolved over time and it was more impressed like trash. That story even I wanted to throw away.

“Tell us, your story, Boi. So we can hear it.”

“Keep, this cowboy of ours also has a heart, he can't tell you if we keep forcing him, we better wait until he wants to tell me.” One of them replied. He seemed to be defending me from those who kept forcing me to tell stories.

Perhaps, he understood the current situation that I had no interest in telling him, before I only wanted them to give advice on what I was doing, nothing more.

I also do not grieve about this, just feel awkward and my habits do like to be angry buried in silence. From this writing alone I think it has been read angrily and it is very unlikely to reflect people who are sad over the complexity of the problems that have befallen him.

My ears are like clenched. Also, now that my ears don't hear anything they say, right now I'm just quietly holding my drink with my mind hanging in the sky.

My writing activities started last year and I managed to write about the Two-Headed Cowboy; the Split Face.

That was the first time I met one of the script editors I didn't expect. That was also the terrible scourge that had happened in my life. It first happened in adolescence. Lost, I felt as if the waves were breaking near my ears.

This is also my latest activity from the time of relaxation of SMA and Wapta activities the same we work in the services of freight forwarders. Self is a name for us. School while working, that's what I want to explain without much else. The three people beside me at this moment kept urging me on about that story.

However, I gave a reason. “Do not discuss it. You don't need to know.”

“Sort of wherever, it's not fun you are.”

“Yes, you wanted to tell me, why do you change your mind now?”

“See, I don't think you should discuss anything about that, later you guys say I'm a lebay. That's not my style.” I laughed, trying to shift the situation.

“Oh, yes. Then how is your novel now, Boi?” ask someone like memperumluku, as well as want to shift the topic.

“Do you still write it today? Good diction and so on that you do often?”

“Yes, don't ask, I'm currently lazy to talk about it. It's better that the script was thrown into the trash.”

Suddenly I had no interest in talking about it, not even supposed to. My traumatized period of staring at the script editor in his private room that day almost seemed to be strongly imprinted. In the days that passed, I did forgive what he did, only in the near future I have to strengthen mentally and try to forget it. Recycle my script stories and improve them.

Or maybe I'll just throw it in the trash. I was really worried about being made by him. The script doesn't mean much to me anymore, the limitations of diction make it feel bland.

“Gosh? You want to throw the script in the trash. Yes, don't, Boi.”

“Yes. Cowboy, listen.. Since the beginning of seeing it I admit that indeed your script is falling apart, you have to learn again how to make a novel like what? A series of stories containing characters and events. Make it as interesting as possible and I believe one day you will be able to make a new history in your life as the author of the best seller.”

“Your cowboy story you have to keep going, don't stop in the middle of the road. Jazu also encouraged you, you know. He said you were not talented at writing. It means you know for yourself, you have a talent for storytelling and just need to be trained. But, when I write, I admit that your storytelling talent seems to disappear. It could be, it's because you're imagining things with emotion. You should be able to reduce your emotions. channeling positive energy in it so that your story seems real, spectacular and will read the spirit text like a young man without burden in his life, although read repeatedly will not be bored. But, yes, that's it, Boi. We live this life is not always what we want we can achieve, but it is not impossible for someone to be diligent in trying until he can achieve his dreams. When you've tried your best and continue relentlessly, that's when I'm sure you can achieve it.”

“Don't you ever hear of people who succeed. In this world there are people who succeed once he tried hard almost struggling more tired, crawling even they continue to try to achieve their dreams. They take pains from anyone. There are also people in this world who like to run quickly without any obstacles, there are also people who walk casually want to achieve dreams. But, know that dreams are impossible to achieve with a relaxed limb. You gotta try hard, Boi. Make sure you keep going, keep getting excited about the day. Even if you crawl never give up once in a while, Boi.”

“If you have tried and still can not achieve it. At least, yes you have tried something challenging in your life.”

***

In a matter of one short time, I could forget the script editor's irritating face, but it was clearly remembered in one clear certainty.

A moving story line. One place to another. Even this once I thought it didn't mean much.

Just happy, even people are happy, this narrative does not want me to make sad. What is it for me to be sad for? There is no end to the spirit when remembering all kinds of things, every moment has one or two things that are exhilarating for a moment.

Rumbles of laughter. A big smile stared warmly. That day in the classroom without much else I thought.

Hour 06.59. The class atmosphere is still quiet.

“Hey, your PR is done? Today he said gathered. This is bad, man. My PR is not finished. Well, how's this?” That said one of my friends at Junior High. The math PR panic is not over yet.

Looking for a friend to ask for help, I looked at him. “Quiet, he said that PR was not collected today.”

“True, you're not lying, are you?” He made sure with a happy face.

I didn't put it away. “My advice is to pray that you will not be punished by guru.”

“Your word wasn't so.” He grumbled.

“It's not for you. Hahaha, another time, he said. Eh? Try to listen here, do not you often see students who do not do PR will be punished and PR later it will be added.” I whispered near his ear, laughing a little.

“Wire! Borrow your PR here, fellow friends should help. You remember the lecture at the mosque that day, don't you?”

“Greeting about what?”

I want to make sure first the truth of it all and I don't feel like just agreeing to anything with his words. It could be just his guess or just a wreath he deliberately corroded and spoke to me with a sinless face.

He was silent and could not answer. “It... I forgot the lecture about what? But, helping that person his reward is great.”

Yeah, I remember when SD said that to Sajak. And it turns out I was wrong about it.

“That's you getting it wrong, man. Helping in the case of kindness is new berahala, whether big or small depending on what is in your heart, but the cheating cheat it should not be named. Adhering to the rule includes having an entitlement and violating it is sinful. That, right the conclusion?” I asked him after explaining.

At SD time I was so innocent to say that to Rajak. But, now because of the frequent reading, I know that cheating the law should not. Please help those who get the reward is when helping in the case of good, while please help in the case of bad is the same as big zone, not even allowed, there is no reward in it. My friend was just scratching his head when he heard my pretentious explanation as a religious teacher.

The exceptions in terms of helping are many as well and it is impossible to describe here, later counted textbooks.

I'm sorry, I'm in a lot of pain because I don't know why when I finish reading and it's in my brain, when someone does something wrong in front of my eyes, at that moment I brought out what I knew to make it all clear.

“There is a time before the teacher comes in, you can do it now with your own brain, unless there is a problem that you are difficult to understand and you can ask me.” I continued to talk and without saying much more, he agreed with me.

The nimble movement answered the problem, several times he asked I only explained the way the formula and not the answer. The way the formula is often used by people, simple but quite fast.

As most people say, where there is a will and there is a will. He who was struggling, now his PR was finished right when the teacher came to our class and told us to gather questions, the man my age smiled cheerfully.

***

Time passes like the wind. I once felt sunduk and not tasteful to live the day. Feelings that are more rigid and I can't explain more.

A student like me can now only hold a textbook under his chest. Walk down the dark hallway without light. Not even a slip of the tone, I was silent among the darkness.

I'm lost, I don't know. Ask yourself why my talents are not in the field that I want to cultivate. Since the departure of Sajak who knows where? At that time I continued to practice writing.

I hope one day I will meet him again. A dream of becoming a football player and ambassador in America.

In January, I once wrote words to form a large sentence in a diary. However, all that did not last long, I again impatiently wanted to see the note.

That's when I learned that there was a different disorder. I felt the writing was bland and was impressed that there was nothing I could feel. Notes that once made me mumble a little pity were not. Even wanting to berate, the note I wanted to exterminate was filled with black ink scribbles that annoyed me as if it gave me nothing of meaning that I could pick and ponder in it, it was completely empty and there was no expression in it. It was already so contemptuous and pathetic!

A young man who now seemed to have hollow eyes was not much to remember and remember. My life from then until now is much different from yours, my friend.

Paper-stripping. Throw it in the trash can without much I can care about more.

I finally threw the note, more precisely since the beginning of January I daydreamed all the time and chose one thing about the note that I wanted to throw away. Standing staring at him floating down on the bridge, the paper was now as if it was being blown away by the wind.

What was I expecting then? There's nothing I can hope for. It was empty and about a word the amplifier wanted me to sink to the bottom of the ground along with the blowing of a hurricane in the ocean there that echoed the despair of the bright, dark, abis light.

Who sleeps lonely, self. O you stick to the best path, thank God whatever life is... O self who can still breathe in your bitter atmosphere that never ends, never become like a wood that breaks easily, strong you are a star. You are precious as a glittering pearl, do not be beguiled by the fire that can burn you. You have the right to keep going and leave behind everything you think is burdensome to you in your stride.

O evil self. Why can't you just stay in that corner of the wall.

Lament your fate and calm yourself. One thing I ask, be patient and firm always, because this feeling of sadness will soon become stone, then break a hammer.

I mocked myself, mocked everything about me. People who hate me will laugh with satisfaction when they know what I wrote that day. Unfortunately, I threw the note away.

Lost and ended all wishful thinking.

Hoping for the wind that he would speak to a cloud that was rumbling white there and hoping it would talk to the clouds so that he would let down the heavy rain I knew would destroy the paper those.

My loud screams in January, staring up at the sky at night. Studded with bright stars enveloped the horizon there. You have to be patient, a little more you will definitely be able to.

***

“I don't want to know you. You know that, haahh ...! Get out of my sight!” Someone pushed me hard.

Watermelon in his hand. He slapped me with a watermelon. I fell to the floor.

Not a whole round watermelon. It was just the marks that were eaten by him. More precisely called watermelon skin with the rest in the skin.

There was nothing I heard, only the sound of crickets. Crick krik krik

The crickets sounded, whether he wanted to mock me or what? Of course I don't know about it. Things that make me know in this world there are things that I cannot join, there are special things for them and I should choose not to be friends with anyone else like them. Those who don't want to be friends with me do have a lot to do.

“Hey, don't treat him like that?” a woman named Kila.

Kila was one of my guardian angels back then, when they made the line wanting to make me a ball they were playing with with a slap.

“What right do you have to defend him, huh? I don't want to know him and tell him to leave in front of me and that's my right, you don't have to defend him!” He sharpened his words to Kila.

My head was still dizzy then, the watermelon hit my head. There was nothing else I thought, the school environment at the end of here was deserted, even just a few passers-by. They're all cuey ducks, except for Kila who came to save me.

Kila and them kept fighting with their mouths until I never thought Wapta appeared there shouting while carrying a punch in his hand and approaching them all.

“Go! You get out of here, you can't bother Narak, one step forward and if you dare to bother him again, accept your fate I'll hit with this one by one.”

The wapta threatened them. Kila beside me was as amazed as staring at a brave woman like her.

“Cih, you're a brave ass. I don't want to face a woman like you. Come, guys. Let's just get out of here, ah, yes, before that you have to remember what I said, Narak. I don't want to know you! All members of our group are complete. You're the culprit of a rotten clam that doesn't deserve to be in our group!” He looked at me with his explanation.

“Shave it well!”

They also passed—away from before me.

I stood staring at their departure, Kila beside me.

“Hey, are you okay?” He asked with caring eyes.

“Tak what!” lamply answer.

Wapta turned around, trailing my ears with a jewel that I myself did not feel any pain. “Mean it so that man you must be brave, not cemen like that.”

“Wapta, don't do that. You made him sick.” Kila stopped Wapta.

“Gak will. My girl is not angry, Kila. This is a special jewel because I will teach him a lesson to be a brave man, not a cement like before.”

I don't know why the Wapta jeweran didn't hurt, I don't even think I said it. I did not think after saying it, at that time Wapta increasingly added to his jewelry and then I felt how sick the jeweran. I apologized repeatedly and he finally let go of his jewelry.

I rubbed my ears. Staring at the Wapta that is now straddling. “Esay I told you not to be weak, you will be easily oppressed people.”

“Oh, yes. Naraks. What's actually going on? I heard from him that you wanted to get to know them. Why do you want to meet their group? You already know, right? They are vicious and do not like to hang out with children like us who are said not to be level.” Kila asked.

Wapta. “Iya, answer. Narak, why do you want to meet them, huh? You want to be a villain like them? Answer!”

“Jawab, answer, Narak.” Wapta put on his lips, looking at him with the usual gaze that he often did.

“Hahaha.You know me, that's it. I just want to get acquainted with that school thug.” I laughed looking at them.

Wapta came back to catch my ear. “For what? Huh huh? You want to meet them? There you even oppressed.”

“Iya, yes. You were right about that, sorry. Sorry, let go of your jewels, Wapta.”

“Hissh.. You're making me angry!” Wapta took off his jewel and glared.

I told the truth that I just wanted to get acquainted with them. The group of school thugs was named Geng Master. They were a group of school thugs who dominated the place wherever they were. It was that mighty temperament I needed for my novel character. The cowboy's enemy I'm gonna use. That was the reason why I wanted to get acquainted with them, I didn't think I would get such a behavior.

I was just wondering how tough their group was.

Quietly, all this time I've been tracking their movements, watching like a starving detective.

Recorded a view I saw of their valiant attitude, especially the wise leader of their group in terms of leading and governing. I felt like a fallen sandwich and a spilled drink, wisdom was even in such a group.

For the day they laughed inexplicably what made it so, I continued to scout and record with imagination continue the script writing of my cowboy novel which is still in the writing stage in terms of the scene and various other things. I want to write their story.

“There must be this big case!” My mind is stalking them.

Unfortunately, I was caught at the time. Then without much thought, I immediately ran away in a hurry, this self-luck could pass from the clutches of their group.

“Oh, so so, yes.” Kila muttered after hearing my story.

“And it's dangerous, Narak. How you got caught. Write a novel until it. Next time, my suggestion is to see the movie.”

Wapta gave me advice. All this time I never thought about it I could consider, but what movie?

“Hmm.. what movie?—film? Do you know the title of the movie about a mighty cowboy and exactly what I wanted?”

“Kalo about that I don't know either, Narak.”

“You search by yourself.” Wapta doesn't say much, but the advice is good too.

Just as an inspiration what kind of dashing figure was it? The definition and the behavior and the storyline I'll make myself. Because all of that is not an inspiration, but a plagiarism that should not be done.

Kila doesn't know either. The script of the novel was for that moment. Let me hope I'll find a bright spot later.

The three of us decided to go back to class. Previously I rubbed the head covered with watermelon, this is the second time I was hit by watermelon.

When I was a kid at a birthday party, I also felt how my head was hit by a watermelon. Since then I have felt watermelon to be a fruit that I do not like, even I have never eaten it since then.

“Narak, you daydream again. Basic habits, do not often later you are possessed by subtle creatures, loh.” Wapta laughs.

Look at the grate of smiles mixed with the sound of laughter, since the first Wapta I like you. But I can't tell you everything about my feelings. Kila beside me also laughed. “Udah, Wapta. You often annoy Narak with your babble.”

“Biarin, China. Let him be mentally strong and not cool like before. That's why you have to keep bothering him.”

Wapta, you need to know, I never get bothered by anything you say. Your beautiful smile has made me like you.

Although on the other hand I was really disturbed to want to say my feelings to you. Haha, I can't lie to everyone. That's the weird thing that's happened in my life.

***

“Yeah, you're right, man. The cowboy also has a heart, even he has a lover in his heart that he is unable to pronounce. Only able to bear it, the cowboy was not as mighty as it sounded to me. He is a hypocrite who is good at hiding feelings, when he says he doesn't like it deep in his heart saying he likes it.”

“Ho-hoy.. Cowboy we already told you.” One of the cheers patted me behind my back.

“Come, continue your story, Boi.”