Fiction Campus
PROSA: Merantau
Life's always changing, right? Questions like this can no longer be the same at a later time. Each person has their own platform to accommodate emotional experiences. Psychology became the realm of law, physics, politics, even romance so the spice of smooth beans.
Grind in a blender machine. As we move forward toward our ideals, we taste the spice before rushing over. After counting a hundred steps, a good start brings up the name of a story.
Answering psychic questions from healthy humans who claim mental disorders. When noticed, one breath of the sting contains a translation of the character. The sick and the pretended to translate the answers and steal each other's imagery. They were both sick but pretending to be healthy. A third man arrives, offering his honor as a gift. They both refused. Choosing upright on his false stance. Trying to act as is, calm down, and filter the bad lust that suddenly attacked.
It's like playing an organ between the corners of a cathedral pole. Inside was filled with the cries of mighty women. They want to be street cats. It is not strong to be a human being that is not appreciated by his master. For them, wandering is like being swallowed by the center of the earth and coming out again through the Mariana Trench. Just the same, the psychiatrist was so fussy and reluctant to be the master again.
Yesterday, I did something similar. Get out of the house. I fantasized it was a line, even if only limited in front of the terrace. Picking up someone with a pink hijab, blue eyes, and a heart lit up like a garden light. The rain hit my porch. God may have deliberately told his signs. There's a disregard I need to avoid for a while.
I don't think I'm fit to be a man who likes to walk. Loves everywhere. I feel more useful to be a human foraging, sleeping, and occasionally trying to understand myself as Ultraman. It's better for me to work smartly and automatically.
Just picking him up seemed to be chased by a herd of wild horses. Heart rate so timid. My heart turned into the color of her hijab. Pink blush -rona. I fell in love many times in the same minute. The strangest thing that often happens to invidu when falling in love. Although he had not fully received a similar reply.
It is no longer the same and can never be answered by anyone. God may be a little angry during the defense of the soul. We seem to rebel and try to keep God consistent with us. If I decide to travel, can the journey of life ever change? Back to the original question.
The same question at this stage, we already know the answer. Yes, life moves, though it doesn't rotate. In previous years, powerful women followed me as a secret devotee. They silenced my compatibility with the pink hijab. For many years in the second edition, I have*************heart and escaped from their praise.
They call themselves the queens of Ghibah. I was chased for the sake of giving the title as king of the Ghibah from them. Escaping in this is an obligation. It might also be a struggle like jihad. Love is coated with oddities such as excessive chemical perfumes. If we go back to the initial question, then like a song lyrics that ask for forgiveness because it has been heard. Life's always changing, right?