LOVE SONG SINGLES
Part 1's

Anang Yoga took a deep breath, reassuring himself before starting to let out his voice.

The old acoustic guitar in his hand, already tuned the strings tightly and fitting the tone.

Confidently, Anang began singing on a tour bus, which was crowded with night commuters.

Anang sang wholeheartedly, as if the world was coming to an end right then and there, and he wanted to pour out his earnestness, through a beautiful song about love, which contradicted the reality of his life.

Closing his eyes, Anang hoped that someday, he could get happiness like the lyrics of a song, which he sang.

Although the attention of the passengers there was not as expected, Anang still sang with certainty.

One song was sung by Anang. Holding a plastic bag of crisps, Anang walked over asking for a little appreciation, for the sound and his sore finger, while pressing the guitar strings.

Some voluntarily gave him a piece of paper money, or a coin. There are also those who just look at it, without giving anything. Fortunately, today no one was snapping at him like in his usual days.

However, today's busying results, were really far from expectations.

The money Anang got was just enough to buy half a portion of meatballs, which were sold at merchants, who sold in carts on the side of the road.

Anang canceled his intention to eat, tonight.

The more days, the result of singing in the bus, the less could be the hope to help her finances. Anang must immediately find a new base.

Anang shifted the rope that hung the guitar on his shoulder, moving to the back. Scars of load of bucket of cement dough with sand, still leaving blisters on his shoulder.

Her hair rolls looked increasingly unkempt. Some parts have been dreadlocked because it is rarely passed by a comb, not to mention the rest of the cement that sticks there.

"How, Bro?" Udi, a young man of Anang's age, folded a mat held on the sidewalk where Anang got off the bus. A beggar who pretended to be paralyzed sat quietly under the street lights.

"The worse! Getting worse...." Anang sat down near Udi, who had just finished putting his mat into the old wagon.

"You don't want to try begging like me?" Udi proudly showed the money, the results of his work from afternoon to night.

"A few hours. Sit without moving much, and do not need to get tired of singing. You from noon to afternoon." Udi put his money in his pants pocket.

Anang grunting. Udi had always invited him to beg, since they met five months ago on the sidewalk.

However, Anang did not want if he had to deceive road users, who felt sorry to see him who pretended to be defective.

Anang thought, if the voice is sweet enough to be used to find money, rather than having to be a fraud.

The night is getting late. The road that is usually crowded with vehicles passing by, is now quiet illuminated by dim street lights.

Udi had already walked away while pushing his wagon, leaving Anang who was still staring at his life, which was increasingly no way.

With a lunglai, Anang set his foot down the sidewalk. He would return to the rental place, which he could only pay weekly.

If it is too late to get a salary payment from the foreman again, Anang might sleep on the streets.

Working odd jobs as a builder's maid, unable to meet her daily needs. The only result of the job, was just a stocky, dense, muscular body, with blisters everywhere.

Having only the last educational background in high school, it is very difficult to compete in finding a decent job in that city.

A beautiful tourism city, but there is not a single beauty that Anang can see.

By leaning against the wall of his room, Anang can only be grateful because he does not need to use used cardboard, to be his bed.

Plastic chicken trousers, has not been successfully filled even if only half.

When is this fight?

The battlefield will probably be more pleasant than the way of Anang's life.

Aye ... If tired of fighting, just give up to be shot dead by the opponent. But, there was no way Anang would have to kill himself, just because he was unable to fight.

Destiny is cruel.

Or a cruel man?

The legacy of his late parents was spent by his uncle—the brother of Anang's late father, to gamble.

Anang who was underage at that time, could only see the house and a patch of rice fields left by his parents, installed a seal from the bank. Requires Anang to live life like his uncle, who is not clear what he wants to be.

Anang who since childhood aspired to become a famous singer, only became a 'singer' without any 'famous.

The old guitar he had bought since junior high school, fortunately, could still function properly, even though the paint had faded and chipped with age.

It had been almost five years after Anang's graduation in his gray-white uniform. Nekat complained of fate to the city, even though it was only armed with a bundle of clothes wrapped in sarongs.

His fate has not improved.

Anang lay staring at the ceiling of his rented room. A narrow map of thin plywood set up by the wild hostess, under an overpass.

The vibration of heavy vehicles passing on the bridge, can make Anang's heart also vibrate, when he saw the ceiling which is also the roof, as if it will fall on him.

Not to mention when using the public latrine, which is made on the river water that often suddenly becomes heavy, because of the flood of water from the river upstream. Tense, exceeding the sensation of tension while riding a roller coaster.

Not only dirt that is washed away by water, the guts also dissolve and disappear.

But, there is where Anang can feel the freedom to watch the women who are washing and bathing, without being yelled at pervert.

The sister will always remember him, if until he was expelled again from this rental place. The wall of the outhouse only partially covered his body, even though he was already squatting.

That night, Anang fell asleep on an empty stomach.

He only ate a few slices of meat stews with a plate of rice, in his dream.

A beautiful dream, to drool Anang, and drown the bedbugs that are in the old cotton mattress, without any bed sheets on it.

Occasionally in his sleep, Anang ran as fast as he could. His feet were kicking the wind. Shadow chased by Pamong Praja Police Unit, enough to make Anang exhausted in his dream.

"Please, Sir! ... Ms Satpol PP! ... Let us find a bite of rice!"

Anang folded his hands together, pleading for mercy to nature, who gave the night too cold.

Suppose you can choose, Anang prefers the dream of freefall from the plane. It was an interesting, and useful extreme dream. Adrenaline caused, can make the stomach Anang hungry, become full instantly.

Too much dreaming, tonight.

Anang changed his sleeping position, straining his neck muscles, making him barely able to move his head anymore.