Author: Anggun

“…, but where does that voice go?” is something that I have been asking to myself for quite several hours now. I have been trying so hard to get my head straight, but these steps always brought me circling back to this lake behind the backyard fence. I assumed the voice inside my head must have been running scared, thinking that I might lose my sanity this time around. Maybe, but instead of talking to myself, I honestly wished somebody else would showed up if I took this stroll a little bit longer. Although it wasn’t exactly what I was expected, at least I got a deer out of that creepy woods for staring a little too long.

It is almost midnight now and everyone on this neighborhood is definitely stay put on their house. I bet some of them are still locking their heads on computers, waiting to finally diving in to their bed. Hanging outside this time around could have froze me, but I just yet started another friendly encounter with the deer and I still have a few extra thoughts left in mind. Although I might soon try to set up a fire camp, I’m guessing these tiny jitters on my head are probably enough to keep me warm for the rest of the night.

I have always told myself to love that rushed feeling of living one of these hustling nights since they never seem to end. I should be grateful too, since they did a pretty good job on helping me avoiding that sour taste of growing up. But all wonderful things aside, every time the clock stopped and the train took an unexpected turn, the major parts of me never failed to be instantly crushed into pieces.

This evening I took a stroll around the neighborhood to clear my head. Lately I have been climbing out of my backyard fence and keeping my door unanswered. My brain had been buzzing for weeks now and I haven’t find a cure to that. Those questions that spinning in my head too, seemed to left unanswered. I have tried visiting a few local bookstores, hoping that I could find at least a glimpse on which route my life is heading now by peeking on one of these pages, but I got none.

Right now the sky is starting to get dark and I don’t feel like coming home. On one of these days I always thought on having my stuff packed and disappeared for at least a week, although by then I would still be cheering on Annie’s Tomorrow and none of these heavy weights would have been lifted.

Last year, I started designing an imaginary backyard in my head by taking notes of memories, stuffs, and other things that brought me to moments I cherished the most. I rearranged and put some things on the corner shelf to reminded me of places I have traveled to. I assembled some characters, backgrounds, and narratives to its surrounding, so I wouldn’t feel alone when I came here. I started adding some voices and sounds, so it wouldn’t feel empty when I left.

Four years ago, I run myself out to a backyard on the back of my childhood home. It was abandoned since my family were no longer lived there, but it was the only place I could have think of when I am alone. That day, I excused myself in to the backyard for two hours and cried. The bitter taste of life had just kicked me and obviously I couldn’t (and still can’t) handle failures. Although it was loud, to this day I am convinced that nobody heard me cry. Maybe it was what most people called as rock bottom, but it was too early for me, so I couldn’t agree with that perspective.

As I was crying, a set of distinctive, joyful, and soothing melodies was playing in the background and somewhat accompanying me trough one of the hardest two hours of my life. It was not an ideal scene for anyone to live through, having such a joyous instrument as banjo harmonizing with the painful sound of my failures, but apparently it was the only thing that made me feel better afterwards.

Three years after that I faced myself in a very similar situation. This time, I was in a much more vulnerable situation, and if it was not longer, it was definitely worse. To that expense, a set of joyful melodies which miraculously appeared on my backyard three years earlier also coincidentally helped me get through one of the most painful times of my life.  Not only that, it also brought me to one of the happiest days anyone could have wished for. To this day I questioned myself on how a happiest day can still existed during an awful period of times, but it really did happened.

For those reasons, the person who strums that soothing melodies always reminded me of a banjo. Knowing him, I can’t remember times when he didn’t accidentally showed up and unintentionally pulled up a string or two that actually cheers me up and just like the distinctive, joyous, and soothing melodies of a banjo, he never fails to bring the brightest smiles out of people. So, as lucky as everyone else who met him, I am ecstatically grateful to be a little part of it and while it lasts, I am going to keep my ears on each and every tune he strums on.

Although this thank you note is nothing compared to what you have done for me occasionally, I wished you the happiest birthday, (and for the slightest chance it didn’t happened) I hope this writing can be a set of joyous tunes to your day.

Happy birthday, Har

Two months ago, a family moved into a house around the block. Their house was two doors next to mine to be precise. The family got three wonderful daughters who sometimes come over for a drink and a cookie in my backyard. I don’t normally invite a number of guests into my personal space at once, but one day the youngest one climbed up my fence and the other ones followed her. I was in the middle of a confusion that day, so rather than screaming for help I just let them look around for a couple of hours.

From then, I started building a new door on my fence. I don’t know what the reason is, but they refuse to come in from the front door like normal people do. Although sometimes I pretended I wasn’t home, their laughter always feels like a good addition to my narrative.

Today I received a pot of flowers and a letter from them as they were moving to another city. I couldn’t say a few last words since I wasn’t home (I wasn’t good at it anyway), but they made sure that their gift was the first thing I found when I am arrived. I read a few sweetest lines and some other jokes on the letter and framed it. As I locked the door I recently built, I took the flowers out of the bag and placed it next to the spot. This door will definitely no longer be used.

This evening I got a letter from a lady across the street. Her beautiful voice had been a new sweetest addition to my backyard for a couple of weeks. Just like the guy who strums a few soothing melodies across lake at night, she sings some of the joyous lines every morning. Sometimes, she waved and smiled at me through her window in the second floor. I couldn’t be more grateful for my decision to move to this lot, this is one of the most favorite settings I could have imagined.

I take a pen and scratch up the envelope. The couple first sentences on this letter was one of the sweetest things anyone could have said to me. I get teary as I went on through the paragraphs, but they are just keep getting better. As I finished the last sentence, I fold back the letter and put it in my pocket. It was too beautiful to be thrown, yet I wasn’t good enough to deserved it. I looked at her window as she smiled from the distance. I waved a thank you and got myself into the house.