Heading towards the station ... 9:45 PM

Tucked away in our subconscious minds is an idyllic vision. We see ourselves on a long, long trip that almost spans the continent. We're traveling by passenger train, and out the windows we drink in the passing scene of cars on nearby highways, of children waving at a crossing, of cattle grazing on a distant hillside, of smoke pouring from a power plant, of row upon row of corn and wheat, of flatlands and valleys, of mountains and rolling hills, of biting winter and blazing summer and cavorting spring and docile fall.

But uppermost in our minds is the final destination. On a certain day at a certain hour we will pull into the station. There sill be bands playing, and flags waving. And once we get there so many wonderful dreams will come true. So many wishes will be fulfilled and so many pieces of our lives finally will be neatly fitted together like a completed jigsaw puzzle. How restlessly we pace the aisles, damning the minutes for loitering ... waiting, waiting, waiting, for the station.

However, sooner or later we must realize there is no one station, no one place to arrive at once and for all. The true joy of life is the trip. The station is only a dream. It constantly outdistances us.

"When we reach the station, that will be it !" we cry. Translated it means, "When I'm 18, that will be it ! When I buy a new 450 SL Mercedes Benz, that will be it ! When I put the last kid through college, that will be it ! When I have paid off the mortgage, that will be it ! When I win a promotion, that will be it ! When I reach the age of retirement, that will be it ! I shall live happily ever after !"

Unfortunately, once we get it, then it disappears. The station somehow hides itself at the end of an endless track.

So, stop pacing the aisles and counting the miles. Instead, climb more mountains, eat more ice cream, go barefoot oftener, swim more rivers, watch more sunsets, laugh more and cry less. Life must be lived as we go along. The station will come soon enough.

(Found as published in Dear Abby, The Station, By Robert J. Hastings)

Awal hari 12:12 AM

Setelah lama berpura2 sibuk(sok sibuk tepatnya), akhirnya gw menemukan lagi suasana seperti masa2 kuliah dulu yang sebenernya bisa diciptakan, tapi gak pernah sempet. Tengah malam, abis gerimis, orang2 udah pada tidur, lalu dari kamar sebelah terdengar pelan & lirih no surprises-radiohead, 1979-smashing pumpkins, evergreen-hyde, Stay-U2 & lagu2 pelan semacamnya. cuma versi sekarang, suara itu dari speaker di kamar gw, soalnya kamar sebelah dah pada tidur semua kayanya. Ditambah yang terpisah-homogenic, jangan bakar buku-efekrumahkaca, see the sun-james iha, rasanya tenang, adem, pelan.

Suasana yang susah gw temuin sekarang. Tiap hari buru2, ngurusin masalah mesin, pulang pergi bandung-purwakarta-jakarta-bandung tiap minggu, cuma gw anggep resiko kerjaan aja. Tapi ketika menemukan suasana tenang & pelan seperti ini, ada yang terisi lagi.

Rasanya selalu pengen kembali lagi ke masa2 4 ato 5 tahun lalu.

Tapi orang bilang kan hidup cuma maju, gak ada berhenti apalagi mundur. Berarti sekarang tinggal mensyukuri aja yang ada, sambil terus nyari jalan supaya bisa keluar dari rutinitas macam ini yang lama2 sepertinya membunuh.

Masih awal hari, dan gw menemukan ketenangan baru.