Umbrella with wet clothes standing by the roadside near a train station. Patiently and cheerfully this child awaits a pityed heart with the state of his life.
The body vibrates because the cold and hungry stomach has become a friend of this child.
Tonight I write my heart's content because a lot of experience knocked my heart in the rain accompanied my steps.
How is the rain?
Where I am always used to you. I live my days like you drop foam from the sky. Irregular, non-rhythmic-though some people say the rhythm of rain is romantic but still to me not rhythmic like the irregular fall.
Is there maybe something irregular called a romantic thing? Then what about my life, which I likened to the fall of water from heaven, then climbed the earth and he did not know which part of the earth he would fall on.
There are times when he falls in the flowing river then disappears in the lost estuary. There is also a direct fall into the sea, meet with the habitat because he did not have to wander all the way to get to the estuary. But there is also just falling on the porch and end up in the sewer, mixed with garbage and dirt. Where is my life?
Am I the water that falls in the river? Who has to travel a long life. Full of meik, down the hill, down the valley and have to pass through the crevice of narrow rocks and many more obstacles before reaching the estuary. Or ... I am the water that falls in the sea, which need not have to go through long and painful exams to get to the estuary. Because I'm right in my habitat, everything's here, all well off here. Because here is where the water is, all kinds of water will empty down here.
How happy I am if I am like water falling in the sea. But, it turned out that I was like water that just fell on the porch of the house.
The fall is already very painful, because it must hit the roof first before I was really on the ground.
I saw the rest of the water drops falling on the ground.
my pencil re-write my heart words
Is it enough to get to the ground? Ah, it was not ... my journey was still very far away. After the violent clashes with the tile and the ground, I was still dragging through another, narrow and pebbled gully. Sometimes I meet a pile of dirty and smelly garbage. Sometimes I also meet a big rock that blocks my path. Sometimes I also meet the water way that is specifically for water - ditch.
But the fact is that this is a special road for water but not as beautiful as its designation. It turns out here is still a lot of garbage and dirt that I meet. It goes on until I feel tired by itself. Sometimes my stream stopped, and I thought I had reached my destination.
But apparently not, I just stopped to choose which stream will continue to be my way. At this intersection I paused. No one knows where my next flow will be. Is it going to the trenches to meet my other habitat? Or will I continue to flow again without direction and purpose.
God .. is this my way ...
Ah ... what do you want me to be God ...?
I'm tired, I'm already full with this trip. Can not I get out of this way and let myself find my way. The way I want to say. Can not I be allowed to decide my own way? It's far enough away that I'm flowing. I've met a lot of things that blocked me. I've learned a lot to get through them all. But why am I still still in order to flow? Is it because there's no scar on me so I think I'm okay.
Do not you know, the water is easy to shape but also easy to get back to. So there is no injury or scar on me. Is it so that you are never satisfied to keep me flowing? Because you do not see any scars on me. Yes, I'm fine. I did not hurt a bit. Because I'm strong enough, it's tough enough to face things that are trying to block my way. Have you ever imagined how the most wasteful form of garbage can get in my way? If only paper waste, plastic or leftover food is not much for me. But when I meet with thorns, broken glass, scrap metal and others it will hurt me very much.
Can you imagine how the wound he made, how crushed my body held back the collisions of the objects. And I became stronger because of it. There's no reason to complain about my journey. Either it will end up in the sea, in the river or even just dragged in the gutter flowing here and there direction. I'll live it. Because I can not go back to the sky where I come from. I also can not vote in the hemisphere where I want to be dropped. And I also can not choose the way I want to be dropped. There is always a reason why I should flow like this. Though I do not know what it is, there is nothing that happens without cause. Sometimes I want to be a strong current that can dispel whatever objects are blocking my path. Throw it down so I can flow comfortably. How big is the rock that meets, how many piles of garbage that block me? I want to pass through it or even throw it. But sometimes I also drift with him, share a place with him. I keep studying to you God where I should flow ..
Though I do not want it. Who wants to go along with a pile of dirty and smelly garbage? There is also I will be the same. Yet ... how determined I am, whatever my will is, in fact I remain just a froth, and until whenever I will remain a foam of rain that goes down and flows irregularly. Although not to the sea, but I will create muaraku own. I will create my own sungasa, my own ditch and my own intersection.
Where can I choose which stream I am going to go to. And until that time comes I will flow with the lower place in front of me. Because I can not climb or come back again. While praying that there will be no more rubbish in front of the pile, no big rocks anymore and no more intersections that make me dragged off course.
My umbrella closes back after the rain has passed ...
This is my life
must flow and learn from life with His love