The witches of the moon.

The rabbit from the south.

The dragon master.

The sun.

The drunken driver.

Thousand lighting crowns and screaming maniacs.

Months that become years.

First, that becomes legends.

Neon that becomes gold.

Fur, sparkle, and fine leather.

Crackers that becomes wine.

A thing that becomes everything.

Please last longer than this.

You’re not like others, why should you try to be them?

Their happiness doesn’t reflect yours.

And there you are.

Sad, getting through the day.

Probably thinking everything you don’t like to think.

The least you think the better.

All is never well.

And I think, your happiness is better than theirs.

Because it’s yours and will always be well.

Sometimes, I don’t think people shall cover their face with another color.

The standard becomes higher and they want to be someone else.

Thicker.

Bloodier.

Blacker.

Lashier.

Minutes after minutes.

Mirror after mirror.

Maybe you’re getting better, but not younger.

Maybe you’re getting what you think you are.

But you’ve just become relative.

And colorless.

The worse thing is, it’s not permanent.

When it all wears out, I think your true color is the prettiest.

Lima dan enam.

Lalu sembilan dan tujuh.

Setelahnya empat.

Dan tinggal dua hari.

Sebelum tujuh tahun berlalu, ketika empat mencapai dunia.

Untuk kemudian dilupakan waktu.

Sendiri dan pergi.

Long may she reigns.

We’re the 90s child.

We raised by Pop song and glorious Punk music.

The struggle of economic crisis and Sunday’s morning cartoons.

We’re all at the end of our 20s.

Seeing the reality of fast paced technology, eating us all.

We think we’re better and flawless.

Just because we know the past and witnessing an era left the eternity.

We gained some and lost a lot.

But, there is nothing sadder than losing yourself.

The tragic incident of a humble life.

Replaced by the suit, the automobiles, and machinery.

Transform a life to a fake glory.

Or it’s the real one, we cannot know for sure.

And we don’t give a damn for sure.