2 AM, Sutos
I shake your hand
My dear beloved friend
I selling corn, you selling some kind of fishy foods
Still, with your blue apron in that restaurant, fishy and oily
Yeah, selling food at those kinds of hours? kidding me, but that's what we call as reality
that was one of the most memorable moment in my live, even only once,
that day we worked in the same site
almost the same hours, end at same late night.
Boarding house, Kendangsari,
I just pick you up with my dear old Yamaha in Wonokromo
just home from Cimahi, your beloved hometown country
Not courrier but act as a courrier
that's you when you're traveling
You bring me a brown shoes, as i wish, and a pack of Kartika, remember?
Another day from Bali,
You act like Tiki
Bring stuff for people and me, a red tees and a cup, I wear and use it when I wrote this long long poetry.
Waiting room, Lemlit UNESA
We just start our journey as a "researcher"
We ended a year and half later in front of Dean later, what a game :D
We call her Mama
We took much
We gave less, just two of us.
Sir Henry's House
late at night,
we call it PKM Project, puff, no matter it is, I love our way at doing stuff with speed, speed at night
I don't know what you do today
You don't know me either,
still we a brader?
That bloody hell class split us, Pals and I in October, You're march people
I just love to say, you are my brader, whoever you are, whatever the wave turn you out
We are brader when we both have no S.S right? yeah, brader, or maybe former brader or BWWN (brader when we need)