Whatever happens to the fruits the mother tree has given birth to, she remains to be a tree. No more, no less.
Last night, I tasted the stars. Lots of it. They were trapped in the glasses I ordered. They call it rempah. I call it heaven.
Whenever I’m alone in my room, I would take off my clothes and stand before the mirror. I see a very fat guy. I would stare at him like it were another person whom I hate. I called him names. Although in reality, that guy is me, a guy who’s fat no more
If there is one thing that journalists are scared of: it is the fear of the letter I
Impromptu is waking up to the strangeness of life and write about it in 10 paragraphs or more
Indonesiasi is the result of living in Indonesia for more than a year
Five days ago, I saw the Yellow Star appear infront of me after alighting from a taxi that brought me from Lombok airport to Tanjung. She wore a striped shirt and a pair of dark-rimmed glasses that never failed her to stand out from a crowd. The Yellow Star rushed and extended her arms, as […]