This Is Getting Ridiculous…
Like the summer of yesteryear, gone from this earth. We momentary rapping the life of rabble. Plain and full of ruin…
Our country is tropical and we’ve got only two seasons —or weather, less clumsy it expresses. At this time, people like to stay away from the natural settings, not because they usually do that, but they just could not afford to get wet, rain does not get along with the mood and comfort with them outside. Also to avoid getting sick.
Are we the Übermensch? having the power and ego to actually enjoy what people may despise. Our trouble comes since the very beginning of our interest in traveling, that we did not like our natural settings to be crowded with people. What else is the point of going somewhere so different in nuance, to have your objective betrayed? It is not like we are keen on misanthropy — I will not speak for the friends of mine, still I shall be totally honest about the probability getting closer of the idea every day.
In no way is our destination for natural settings only reserved for us, though we find it much earlier before people decided to come to. Yeah sure, what is this mean? Nothing. The sense of hierarchy of preceding the temporal and spatial is getting ridiculous. Everything, is getting ridiculous…
My reader, i welcomed you the case of Karang Boma site, as I already showed to you at the top, along with my friends for also make it’s clear this story often consider the use of ‘We’. As my style of lazy writing, I will not be getting into detail about the place and the pleasing of another 5W1hs method questions.
The point being, i love to ask my friends to seek out the glory of natural settings at the rain time. Never a sight of summertime is a glory. They are alright, but never exploding swells of zest. How the glowing sunset, the wind breeze, those calm beauty — is like a person you like, your crush. But most likely everyone’s destination the same as you. You being cursed to enjoy totally different viewpoint, shall milk it to the most bottom ground. Being edgy is not so bad, for still I might say do not overdo it.
Where were we? The edge — Karang Boma site is in South West Pecatu, a narrow cliff open to the view of a vast ocean, then the Uluwatu Temple, and if you stumble upon a clear sky, you could see in far away the Alas Purwo National Park in Java Land. I saw it once, just regularly look like far away a land in sight.
The cliff is narrow because it feels like the wild plants, grass, and the trees are so full around. Not to mention the human. There are big news years ago about one foreigner who fell to the bottom of the cliff. After this incident, the local decided to close the place for some good chunks of time. I came down again after the reopening, and now the place is full of wooden fences. Not just around the edge of the cliff, but also the entrance. Probably to make the visitors tired enough to the state of ease and not fooling around hyperactively. I am pointing to those next-level photography-selfies, people sharpen the eyes so the other can move to give a switch in the photogenic spots.
I concur all of this rather simple changing is effective. Why, I saw once a group of visitors turn their back and leave the place, for they could not get in, or probably would not. Bunch of jackass bringing out their grill and meat. They probably went off somewhere more friendly like Balangan or Tegal Wangi.
Like the phrase by Sartre “Peut-être en est-il de plus beaux, mais c’est le nôtre”. Forever I will be grateful for the friends that they had a rigorous stance towards differences. The differences are rather minor, yet you can try it yourself with your friends, and see how it turns out. We went to Karang Boma site when it was raining, the land is full of mud and slippery, we tear out our flip-flops, and our raincoat it is not good enough to keep us dry.
We talked nothing but question our decision to actually came down here, and importantly how there was so much turd. It looks with full contrast because the rain makes it so. It looks fresh with the visual and the smell, and binary with the green grass. Luckily we are never those picnic group who bring a goddamn stove and mat — could easily lose the appetite, for we are poor and plain, and the turds is so interesting we decided to find the suspects.
The herd of cows who lives nearby at the west of our point is getting hostile. Frankly, our presence is rather spooky with the raincoat, and also with such odd time to appear at them. We came down to this area in our effort to find different scenery, but the pathways led us into this madness. Never we probably saw cows this mad. They sound like a war cry, and their leader is about to give the attack order — “Advance!”. Their reaction went on even denser and we back out of the area. “That’s it”, said one of my friends.
At the hour of our farewell to these glorious spectacles, the rain yet stopped — soon gonna be heavier. I look back at where it was Karang Boma, and by the entrance I felt I was leaving more of moments this alike, rather than a place. The moment is like a picture we characterize towards the object, but our mind’s dull and retarded. “We shall do this again”, said I to the other three talking courtesy, because deep down what shall become is the never will be.
The presuppose sentiment is proven accurate. By the time I wrote this story, never once I came back to Karang Boma with the story’s imaginable nuance, the setting, the feeling, and the cows’s turd. I once came down again by myself with the sunset, O Lord, how poor I am — to look at this nothing to resembles what I had back in that day of wet desolation!
This is getting ridiculous…
