House of dream

politik dan hukum

I dreamed about you.

About a house where you live. 

A house that has a table with lots of thick-page books, a dim light yellowish room with a standing lamp, several big teakwood  opened windows, and a comfortable red couch.

In that dream, I was standing outside that house, playing and talking with my friends. They spoke about something and we were having fun together. While you were studying inside the house, drowning with the reading. Suddenly you appeared and interrupted us.  

I saw your face, popping out from one of the big windows of that cozy house. And you smiled at me. 

I looked back at you and then, we talked and laughed and talked and laughed and talked and laughed until my friends’ face got disappeared one by one. Until the sun went down and we forgot about time.

And everything started to felt connected and reduced into a small world of us. I felt that you were so familiar to me. Your comfy house, your activity of reading the books on the table, your red couch, your smile and maturity, and the way you carried yourself. Your life, my life, and our crossed path. 

All that smile that I saw on the first time I knew you at that event I could not mention. I felt like I had known you for years and years. 

And, I woke up. It was still dark outside. There was only shadow of trees from my one and only window, and a light bulb. But, the feeling lingered on.


Dingin yang Tiba di Bulan Oktober

politik dan hukum

Lincoln, Nebraska.

Tuesday, October 10.

Musim perlahan berganti. Kini, cuaca tidak lagi sehangat saat pertama kali aku datang ke kota ini. Meski masih masuk ke dalam periode Musim Gugur, namun suhu sudah menurun drastis. Salju bisa tiba-tiba saja datang di tengah bulan Oktober ini.

Setiap hari, dari pagi hingga malam, udara terasa dingin. Kamu tahu seperti apa rasanya?

Fear of losing you

arts and culture, humaniora, lifestyle, politik dan hukum, quotes of the day, seni dan budaya

Lincoln, Nebraska.

12:21 AM

Sometimes, I feel like I have lost you inch by inch.

Each time you speak or write, I am always afraid that I will find the fact there is too much difference between us that is not meant to be together. Threads that do not cross one another.

And that you do not want to unite those threads because it will require too much effort, too much time, in the end.