The Diary Ecca
The Part 39
...Is this Love?...
Friendship is like cotton candy is very sweet, there is a sense of love, memories and also longing even there is also a sense of jealousy of betrayal and silly things. Yes that's friendship, sometimes crisp like crispy kayak, and like freshly peeled salted beans. That your best friend? Have a taste of what?. I just want you to know that even in the distance I'm always there for you, even if you weren't created for me.
If you remember the time you have spent with friends, everything must be fun, right? Although fights often color the friendship between you and him, but the feelings of annoyance and anger will be quickly replaced and never feel at home for long lodged in the heart.
Disputes there must be differences there must all happen because we are friends to help each other and need, remember about used paper? The old paper under my desk contains good memories with you my best friend, my best friend blasphemy splattered on me the problem came to me but you my best friend never complained to encourage me.
ooooo
Some feelings don't want to be perpetuated. They just want to be tucked away and released at a good time. No, not because the word while it's fun, the fact is, the short one will never be worth it.
Not because the word forever sounds impossible, actually nothing can happen on earth, if you ask why, actually I do not know.
I'm not a feeling. I was only in the body of a woman who every step of the way faced feelings. And honestly not tasty, boring, easy to be happy, easy to be disappointed, easy to be sad, but also easy to forgive.
I'm not a good writer who makes up stories but everything that happens has happened like a series of events that intertwine and make me feel like this is like a white paper that I write ink with wordsa word that just breaks down.
"Ready brother!" we answered with enthusiasm.
"Ok, good, you can disperse!" Exclaims.
We broke up into our own rooms...
"Ach can't wait for tomorrow's show" Devi said.
"Hem, definitely add laper ni if there are many events" said Deva.
"Huuu, the basis is precisely your opportunity, make ngurusin ni body..hhhhh" joked Devi replied to Deva's remarks.
"Udah deh, do not need to fuss mending we sleep so that tomorrow can wake up not late" added me.
"I'm not sleepy yet, want to go ahead first to find the wind, it looks good" said Devi.
For me life is always black and white, happiness will always be directly proportional to sadness. We're just waiting for the time to take turns, right?. And so with silence. Today feels crowded, maybe tomorrow we will dialogue again with solitude.
Although in the crowd I still feel lonely, somehow lonely I feel without someone who can accompany me in this solitude, it does not feel like I have gone further and further I walk alone.
My egoist feels that if I just complain without trying, somehow my pen scratches to the point where the black ink that I write on white paper has run out, inexplicably, everything I write corresponds to the journey of life in which the crying heart tells of every journey of the soft heart, although the time spoke in a soft tone while accompanied by the piano which continued to sound with melodunya like a melody that struck the heart.
The clock's needle kept ticking towards the infinite axis with a full turn I kept asking myself, today whether it will be better than the days before or it will even give me a flurry of money actually leads me to the fear of starting a change.
Gurgling sounds of rain gnashed on the leaves. A pointed voice clanking in the heart, seemed to say my name. Is that a voice, sweetheart?
How to translate this feeling of longing? Distance, like a stretch of haunted and scary old graves. Shedding deep wounds like shakes that come and go. Lightning and thunder were not weary of soaring in the sky.
The dark shadow of the forest entered my eyes like a ghost. And the whimpering wind was like pushing a million questions I don't know what the answer is, "Are you thinking about me now too?"
The late I was on my own trip. Counting steps, in the foggy middle of the night and silent deserted roads. Pursue the somber figure of the moon that dissolves in the rain dance. Faintly pale his face shivered alone.
And the voice was still heard, calling out from a distance. Unrelenting, calling my name.
You radiate your happiness from hidden springs. Like when the sea tides under the gentle gaze of the sun brings indescribable joy. A pair of five fingers spread to the four corners of the ocean while delivering puja to the almighty. He gives us all pleasure. He is the one to whom we return.
Touching the magical center of longing, peppering with previously unknown feelings of garratry. Time that maps all ancient memories of our mortal bodies, it has grown into a afterlife memory of the dense wilderness and a small sandalwood in the middle of a remote island surrounded by beautiful valleys and silver hills that you once often explored.
The mountain towering in the distance seemed to be challenging to conquer. The blue sky above the barren field stretched far into a peninsula that had never been touched before. Everything that used to be just part of the trajectory of history, but now forever has been a reminder of you. All that once revealed the entire trail of your firecrackers and conquests. The landscape of all the riches you now keep in your personal treasury. The wild nature of the horizon of thought and the treasure of feeling is barely pervaded.
There are no more secrets that you cover from our eyes, other than the deepest recesses of the trough hidden behind your dreams. Truly, no more happiness can represent our present feelings, for you have allowed us to be eyewitnesses; the desire of your desires, the longing of your longings, the love of your love.
How can we repay your innumerable kindness? For only the sincere words of what is unspoken yet we have been content to witness will fulfill all the promises of all that you have given but we will never have. However, that is enough for us, for you have allowed us to admire the panoramic beauty of what you have kept tight.
ooooo
