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A very close friend of mine, Wahyu, posted me a note saying: A wise man knows when to stop (It was something someone —I don’t know who— told Alexander The Great). Yu is my senior and a very close friend whom I admire since my first day of college. He was literally my mentor, and practically still is. When troubled, he helps me see through the sanest decision available and minimize —sometimes even cut off when necessary— affection.
He is right about me, at every inch. As much as I want to take his advise, I can’t. I can’t stop and don’t know how to. I’m that person Mr. Mercury described as an-atom-bomb-about-to-explode (I don’t actually enjoy the sex-machine-ready-to-reload part). I know exactly why I can’t stop. It isn’t that I am not easily satisfied. It’s because I’m terribly greedy. I can’t seem to get enough. I have the strength to see the same movies repeatedly, listen to the same song one whole day, read the same book front to back to front to back again (and again…). Just once is never my thing, and may never will be.
About a month ago another good friend of mine, Aleg, called and said that his dad, Sir Ray[1], wanted to see me and some of our friends to talk about possible media job (Sir Ray was a senior editor of a print media). After two passionate hours of talking (that was about twelve at night) instead of closing up, we moved on to another topic: history.
To say that the talk was interesting is an understatement. It was ecstatic! There he was, sat in front of me, a man who knows all those people I know only from newspapers. He talked about them of things I haven’t read anywhere! He talked through and through: the worst, the worse, the bad, the good, the better, and the best of them! On his face was the smile I envy. That was the smile of someone who enjoys every bit of second of his life. I swear I really want many of those.
That night I was dead tired. I spent seven hours at school and headed directly to Leg’s house. My eyes were killing me, but there was no way I was to let even one word of his slipped by. I lost him for about ten minutes. Aware, I got on my feet, went to the bathroom, poured my face cold water, fixed myself a cup of coffee, sat back, regained strength, and listened to him again. He was still talking with the same smile. I think we finally ended it at four.
I thought that was the best day I had this year, untill similar meeting about a week ago. This night, along with him came his friend, Sir Mochtar[2]. Sir Mochtar is 75 (and the meeting day was coincidentally his birthday). Sir Ray is 58. And we’re about to hit 30. That night, Sir Mochtar did most of the talking: again, about history. He spoke of almost all people in history. And he mention them on first name basis (He actually knows them)! I could swear that night, on Sir Ray’s face was the same amazement my face put on when he was doing the talking a month ago. And on Sir Mochtar’s was the smile I saw on Sir Ray’s a month ago. That night, as the night a month before, I didn’t want to go home. I wanted them two to sit still and kept talking.
You see, Yu, I can’t stop. Maybe not right now. Patience was always your thing, not mine. One day, I will need you to stop me again. I trust that you will still be around.
He is right about me, at every inch. As much as I want to take his advise, I can’t. I can’t stop and don’t know how to. I’m that person Mr. Mercury described as an-atom-bomb-about-to-explode (I don’t actually enjoy the sex-machine-ready-to-reload part). I know exactly why I can’t stop. It isn’t that I am not easily satisfied. It’s because I’m terribly greedy. I can’t seem to get enough. I have the strength to see the same movies repeatedly, listen to the same song one whole day, read the same book front to back to front to back again (and again…). Just once is never my thing, and may never will be.
About a month ago another good friend of mine, Aleg, called and said that his dad, Sir Ray[1], wanted to see me and some of our friends to talk about possible media job (Sir Ray was a senior editor of a print media). After two passionate hours of talking (that was about twelve at night) instead of closing up, we moved on to another topic: history.
To say that the talk was interesting is an understatement. It was ecstatic! There he was, sat in front of me, a man who knows all those people I know only from newspapers. He talked about them of things I haven’t read anywhere! He talked through and through: the worst, the worse, the bad, the good, the better, and the best of them! On his face was the smile I envy. That was the smile of someone who enjoys every bit of second of his life. I swear I really want many of those.
That night I was dead tired. I spent seven hours at school and headed directly to Leg’s house. My eyes were killing me, but there was no way I was to let even one word of his slipped by. I lost him for about ten minutes. Aware, I got on my feet, went to the bathroom, poured my face cold water, fixed myself a cup of coffee, sat back, regained strength, and listened to him again. He was still talking with the same smile. I think we finally ended it at four.
I thought that was the best day I had this year, untill similar meeting about a week ago. This night, along with him came his friend, Sir Mochtar[2]. Sir Mochtar is 75 (and the meeting day was coincidentally his birthday). Sir Ray is 58. And we’re about to hit 30. That night, Sir Mochtar did most of the talking: again, about history. He spoke of almost all people in history. And he mention them on first name basis (He actually knows them)! I could swear that night, on Sir Ray’s face was the same amazement my face put on when he was doing the talking a month ago. And on Sir Mochtar’s was the smile I saw on Sir Ray’s a month ago. That night, as the night a month before, I didn’t want to go home. I wanted them two to sit still and kept talking.
You see, Yu, I can’t stop. Maybe not right now. Patience was always your thing, not mine. One day, I will need you to stop me again. I trust that you will still be around.
2 comments:
don't stop. don't stop till you die.
Jeez... I never thought you admire me :P Nice to hear that though..
Well, I think you'll know it (the RIGHT time to stop I mean) when it comes around the corner.
If we are (and I like to think that we really are) Band of Brothers, then you are definitely Ronald Speirs.
I think it's ok to go fast and hard. Just keep your gun full-loaded and throw some grenades first before you blitz around a corner.
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