Behold, the most beautiful thing in the world sometimes can not be seen in the view or palpable to the touch, they can only be felt with the heart
*
Mahatma Gandhi
*****
A steaming cup of original coffee accompanies an adult man who is busy working with a flat box object equipped with a relatively sophisticated keyboard inside. The sunlight that came in through the window ventilation accompanied the man. Yes. Again, the man had to deposit a manuscript for publication. So because of that he must be able to focus and think.
Becoming an author is not easy. But for this man this is a medium to express his heart, because he happens to be a really anti-social kid. So this is how he can explore what he wants to reveal. The number of words that must be arranged in a sentence to make a paragraph causes him to be so adept at word processing. Although not infrequently he is also confused by ideas that sometimes disappear somewhere.
The sound of the door opening made him stop for a moment from the activity he was doing.
A tall man with blonde hair with standing bangs entered from behind the living room door.
"don't you usually come home earlier?"
Lintang greeted Daffa's return with a question. Indeed, he did not usually come home at noon like this.
"just want to, hehe"
Daffa instead showed a big smile that was a little difficult to interpret. He really isn't clear. While Lintang instead linked his eyebrows with an interrogating look.
"Don't be surprised by me," Daffa again just grinned.
Not long after that, someone could hear someone singing behind the wall of the room he was living in.
In my dreams you're with me
We'll be everything I want us to be
And from there, who knows?
Maybe this will be the night that we kiss for the first time
Or is that just me and my imagination?
"imagination?"
For some reason, Lintang remembered the figure of a woman who was present in his dream at that time. A girl with a very warm hug. I got comfort from that girl. Even when I was hugged by him it felt like I had felt that hug before. Indeed, that hug is similar to my mother's hug. In fact, not just similar but exactly the same. The only difference is the aroma. The girl had a distinctive smell of maple leaves that made me feel in Belgium at once. It may sound silly but everything feels so real that I never thought it was just a dream.
"Lavina ..." I muttered. Wish he would come just by saying his name.
*****
Avisa
"Hooray, my sand castle has already been done .." cheered a teenage girl.
"Mine has become too" the other girl didn't want to lose to him.
"but mine is better than yours"
"Ah, yours is normal, mine is better"
"Mine. Look at mine, the number of floors is more than yours. It looks luxurious and majestic."
"Yes, yes. Someday I'll take you to the palace like this so you can feel the real thing."
"seriously?"
"Yes, but someday, yes."
"ok I'll wait"
The figure called kaka hugged his sister with a loving hug. Creating an atmosphere of harmony. The atmosphere is pleasing to the eye and makes anyone feel it even if just staring at it.
The figure called kaka is also someone who is willing to give in to his younger brother in the slightest thing. No wonder his younger brother really loves his brother.
Tokk tokk tokk ...
The sound of a sudden knock on the door interrupted Avisa's reverie. Himself, who previously had his mind drifting somewhere, now returns to his conscious mind. Avisa forgot since when he was controlled by the subconscious that took him to the past. Times that seemed to throw it from above a height. So sick, but that's the truth.
A photo frame containing 2 teenage girls that he had previously looked at was placed in a place unknown to anyone. Hope only he can find it. Not other people. Because it will really hurt him.
Tokk tokk tokk ...
"yes a moment."
The knock on the door came back to my ears. Avisa immediately pulled the door handle and opened it slowly.
"You opened the door a long time ago"
The figure behind the door was apparently a girl with slightly curly back hair. Her face is attractive, and definitely beautiful. The clothes that stick to her body are quite fashionable, but still look simple. The make-up that adorns her face looks fresh and natural.
"Yes, because I was in the room earlier," said Avisa.
"Is the story finished?" asked the girl.
"The story about me and him is over, hehe"
"hish I'm asking seriously"
"Besides, what are you doing in the morning like this at my house, Vita ??" complained Avisa
"want to suck your toilet !!"
the one asked was fiery.
That woman is Jovita. A novel editor from a branded label who is assigned to work on works from Avisa. It feels like it's already easy. Especially if it is related to Avisa, of course the word difficult is more dominant than easy.
"hish, calm down." said Avisa trying to restore the atmosphere.
"Have you finished the story?" this time Jovita asked in a more relaxed tone than before.
"take it easy, I've finished it."
Avisa doesn't lie. He had indeed finished the part of the story that was to be submitted to Jovita. Even though I don't really care if I haven't finished it. After all, the one who will be scolded by Jovita is not me, hahaha.
"good, I'm calm."
So excited was Jovita when I had finished the part of the story she asked for. The problem is usually he gets really angry with me. Every time you call, you must be addicted to a novel part. Almost every day, I even collect it. I felt like I was being chased by debt collectors. Even though writing a novel is not that easy. The words should be made as interesting as possible to feel the elements of the drama. If life is made into a drama, it seems like a lot of times, but if you write a novel, making a drama is quite difficult. I myself feel, wow. Yes, let's just say that this time I make other people happy. After all, it also includes worship.
"Vit, let's get out! I want to eat ice cream here."
"I'll copy the file for a moment."
"No need, I'll just send it via e-mail."
"Yes, come on !!!"
"Just calm down, I'll treat it."
"sip by"
*****
Latitude
"Daff, Vincent isn't home yet?"
"Not yet. Maybe later tonight."
"ok"
There was no more conversation after that. I also chose to leave the house and look for a place to lean on for a moment. Usually I do that after a day of thinking to come up with interesting story ideas. Yes, that's just to refresh your brain.
I took step by step towards the expected location. I walked with one hand in the pocket of the short jeans. The T-shirt that I wear also looks simpler and simpler. Even the sandals I wore were just plain black mountain sandals.
Nothing is expensive about the clothes I wear. Everything is simple but feels comfortable when used.
I don't feel like it's been 10 minutes walking. I didn't realize where these footsteps were headed. I'm just enjoying it casually. And now here I am. Where I've been before. The place with the sound of water pounding the rock beneath it. The shady tree that I previously used as a shelter and a place to explore the imagination that is still buried deep there. No wonder anyone who is there is immediately hypnotized by its beauty. It is not uncommon for many people to be so carried away that they do not realize that they are controlled by their own imagination. I've never felt it but I've heard of it. I wonder how it feels to be controlled by the realm of the imagination. But the incident a few days ago made me feel both amazed and confused at a glance. How can it all feel real. Even though it's all just wishful thinking. In fact, it is not a wish, but a dream.
The sound of running water accompanied by the chirping of birds made him feel carried away. Even the breeze that blew her body made me even closer to the subconscious. I closed my eyes and felt it getting deeper and deeper. Until finally he remembered something.
"Lavina ..." he suddenly opened his eyes and rolled the incident a few days ago.
Her hug ... Why is it only his hug that he can remember? Why not his face? I'm really curious about that girl's face.
I remembered if there was something I kept in my magic bag. But not Doraemon's pocket either. Just a piece of white paper and a pen. Hope that the pen is a magic pen. The pen that would embody whatever I would scratch on that piece of paper.
Slowly I will start ...
Dear: diary
Whoever you are who is outlined for me, be patient ...
Wait for me a little longer, or even some time ...
Honestly, I don't want time to pull me up so fast to meet you ..
Not because I don't want to, but because I can't ...
Can't afford it if I have to fall for the second time ...
During this time, time taught me to continue to stand like a pole ...
I don't want to collapse again just because of heart problems ...
But whoever you are who is outlined for me, wait for me ...
Greet me if you know I'm half your soul ..
Greet me if you are near me
But don't tell me before time whispers
Lintang Pradipta
That is all he can tell on a plain sheet of paper which has now been transformed into a paper that contains word strokes spilled from the heart. He folded the paper into a small ship that was ready to flow with the water. Think of it as an outpouring of his heart to God to want to whisper it in half of his soul.
I heard whispers calling my name. Didn't I ask God to whisper half of my soul? Why on me? I was really crazy.
"Lintanggg ..."
*****