Wednesday, August 3, 2011

Short story of the man

Yes finally I left those boring days. Days of my doctorate. This is the dream that I buried since at least for years spending on books, interview and research. Days with numbers, graphics, curves, debates and thousand cup of tea and coffee, can't count anymore for how much nicotine on these blood. I was a worm, the geek of my own world. But now, yes this moment, I'm riding this old and leaking motorcycle, running on this earth, breathing and absorbing the smell of soil, dead wood and wild flower. Start from this edge of this continent, take all the theory off, no law, no schedule, no appointment, no target, no rush, no sorry, nothing, nothing miserable story. Just me, just do what I wanna do since the day of that promise. Bye dad, bye mom, bye sisters. Sorry I won't back, I'll keep this on and or my walk on. Locals call this as walkabout, but its more then that, it's real journey from this edge to the edge that no one can't have any description. No one know, only one who know this, he is the driver who led me, who come not far from my throat, he is the one, he is me.
I am alive now after some temporary death.

-inspired by ernesto-



hi.... whats up your blog?

Land of Oase said...

hello bung Faisal; so far so good. just bit busy with my work. thanks my friend for drop by


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