#kran air

[nonaabuabu]

Hari ini 07 September 2024, cuaca mendung meski hujan tak turun. Aku mendengar suara ayam berkokok meski samar dari kejauhan. Gemericik air mengalir dari kran, suara burung yang tak kukenali (barangkali aku juga perlu mengenali jenis mereka agar lebih lihai bercerita) dan tubuhku yang terasa kaku.

Aku mengingat dua orang saat menulis ini, satu lelaki yang yang kutemui di September lalu dan lelaki yang menemuiku di September ini. Aku tak benar-benar mengenali keduanya, namun jika kutarik garis simpul sederhana maka satu lelaki yang kucintai dan satu lelaki yang mencintaiku.

Tetaplah aku perempuan yang akhirnya luluh kepada yang memberi namun jika hatiku turut memberi kepada yang lain, bisakah aku menerima cinta tanpa menyakiti yang memberi?

Mungkin beginilah semua kisah cinta berakhir pada anak manusia, kita kerap berkompromi dengan apa-apa yang akhirnya menjadi sebuah rela. Namun untukku apakah aku akan kembali ke tujuh tahun lalu, melepaskan keduanya karena tak akan pernah merasa damai untuk pilihan mana saja.

Matahari belum terlihat pagi ini, meski hari sudah terang. Mungkin jam dua belas siang nanti aku akan menemui jawabannya bersama terik matahari yang membakar kulit. Namun jika hujan akhirnya mengambil alih, bisakah kujadikan pertanda untuk kembali berlari sekali lagi?

Barangkali, cinta tak perlu lagi tersedia di mana saja.

[menyapamentari]

Berumah tangga itu juga tentang tiba - tiba mesin air di rumah mati, tiba - tiba harus bor tanah ulang dan beli mesin air baru. Berumah tangga itu juga tentang tiba - tiba atap bocor, kran air tiba - tiba rembes, tv tiba - tiba layarnya buram. Dan keadaan tiba - tiba lainnya yang sebetulnya telah menjadi takdir Allaah. Keadaan tiba - tiba yang membutuhkan kesiapan mental, keyakinan hati, pola berfikir hingga tentang konsep rezeki.

Hal - hal sederhana yang mungkin tidak terfikirkan saat persiapan menikah namun dalam perjalanan seringkali menguji diri.

[martinamuliadewi]

The Power of Positive Thinking

Ada yang menarik yang terulang dua kali hari ini, di rumah dan di kantor. Dan jadilah materi di slide ini Haha. Ada sebuah ember yang berisi air keruh dan kotor. Ketika diisi dengan air bersih dari kran, maka kotoran yang ada di dalam ember itu akan naik ke atas dan keluar. Lama-lama air di dalamnya menjadi lebih bersih dan bening. Kalau continue diisi terus, maka yang tersisa di dalam ember adalah air yang benar-benar bersih. Hilang sudah kotoran dan kekeruhan tadi. Sama halnya dengan ini : Air yang kotor di dalam ember = kondisi jiwa/pikiran kita yang dipenuhi emosi negatif. Pegel, grundel, sebel, dan hal-hal nggak baik lainnya. Kran air bersih = pikiran yang positif, hal-hal baik yang bisa kita kontrol dari dalam diri. Memang nggak semua hal bisa kita kontrol seperti yang kita inginkan, yg kita mau. Bahkan mngkin ada omongan orang-orang di luar sana yang membuat grundel ae seharian atau mungkin berhari-hari. Ada hal-hal yang tidak sejalan dengan rencana. Kecewa sama manusia udah sering kan? Nah, kalau kita bisa membersihkan itu dengan menyalakan kran air bersih bernama positif thinking tadi, maka isi ember hati dan pikiran juga akan jadi bersih. Pikiran tenang, hati pun senang. ang ang ang. Sesimpel itu ngomongnya tapi mungkin tak semudah itu melakukannya. Tapi mari kita coba. Yuk nyalakan kran air bersihnya :) Sekian #LifeLessons hari ini 😊🙌 16 Oktober 2024 🌻 @martinamuliadewi

[saucemgosh]

Here’s a year ahead reading I did for my work friend, and her significator card. The decks I’m using are from Kim Krans’ Wild Unknown series, specifically the tarot for the year ahead and the Oracle for the significator card.

It’s a beautiful reading filled with change, creativity, empowerment, and stability, being heavily influenced by air and earth, as well as moving towards a brighter future rather than staying in the dark.

If you’d like this reading, or one of the others I can do, checkout my kofi in my bio, or give this post some love!

[jejakperadaban]

Bicara Hujan (1)

Perspektif seorang beriman tentang hujan, sangat istimewa. Bagaimana tidak, saat banyak orang yang mengeluh, mengaduh, mencela hujan yang turun, namun tidak demikian yang dilakukan orang beriman.

Baginya, hujan adalah "berkah". Hujan adalah rahmat Allah. Saat hujan, syukurnya semakin membuncah.

Teringat, bagaimana siklus hujan bisa sebegitu rapinya? Air laut yang sekian banyaknya, diangkat, menuju langit. Adakah diantara kita yang dapat melakukan demikian? Hanyalah Allah yang mampu melakukannya!

Lalu, saat melihat langit, bukankah tidak kita dapati kran air padanya? Lalu mengapa air bisa turun begitu saja dari langit? Siapa yang bisa melakukannya? Bukankah Allah?

Belum berhenti disini. Orang beriman teringat, air hujan itu, bukan sekedar jatuh. Namun ia benar-benar berkah, rezeki dari Allah, memberikan manfaat untuk semua makhluk.

Sayur, buah, tanaman tidak akan bisa hidup tanpa air hujan. Air yang kita minum, semua berasal dari hujan. Hewan pun, tiada yang bisa hidup tanpa air. Manusia pun, sangat membutuhkan air. Semuanya, awal mulanya adalah air hujan.

Betapa, hujan bukan sekedar sebuah peristiwa. Melainkan, ia adalah berkah, rahmat Allah yang turun di setiap tetesnya.

"Begitulah, sudut pandang orang beriman. Melihat semuanya dengan kacamata iman."

[snapeaddict]

Snolidays 2022 - week 2, Family

Para mi querida amiga @mmad-lover, loosely inspired by @gawaincomic’s beautiful drawing 

Il nous faudra trouver les mots pour t’apprendre à rêver plus haut

‘They look very beautiful, don’t you think, Severus? Exactly like the picture. It certainly is the first time I can say as much.’

Severus looked down on the recipe book, frowning slightly in a very characteristic manner, one that he would conserve well into adulthood – then he looked up at the dishes, looked down again, and finally, carefully, as if he were assessing the outcome of laborious research, he nodded. Sometimes it was only the little things, such as the naive look of wonder he had just cast upon the desserts, that reminded Albus of his age. Contrary to most members of the staff, neither he nor Minerva had found this especially amusing. It was clear that Severus felt compelled to act in such a premature way; a formerly abused child living in a world of adults certainly felt no choice but to adapt his behaviour according to what he saw, in hope that he would gain acceptance. Nothing was unconditional for Severus, and when Minerva had been rushed to the hospital, he had thought that it was time for him to leave. He had thought that Albus, who had spent long days at the hospital, would send him away so that he could focus on her well-being. And Albus had indeed been busy: so busy that for a few days he had only been there at bedtime, and had left the boy alone with his fears. It had been the first time Severus had had night terrors in over a year. 

The following day, despite the doctors’ reluctance, Albus had brought him along to the hospital. Severus was a different child – he and Minerva would have to learn to protect him in the most effective way, and in this case, it had meant visiting his mother instead of waiting for her to return. In all fairness, this had not only benefited the boy, since Minerva had significantly lightened up after seeing him: she had recovered so well from her operation that it had been decided she would return to Hogwarts only two weeks afterwards – today. This was a special occasion, and Albus and Severus had spent the greater part of the day down in the kitchens in order to prepare something she would enjoy.

‘Do you think Minerva will like them?’ Severus asked. ‘I don’t like that smell.’

Albus burst out laughing. Of course there was whiskey in Minerva’s favourite dessert; not a child’s ingredient of choice. But he had made sure there would be a special dish just for Severus, which had been set aside in a green bowl.

‘She will, Severus, trust me. Crannachan is her favourite dessert, remember? And since you are the one who did almost everything, I am sure she will love it.’

‘Kran-e-ken’, the boy corrected with excellent Gaelic pronunciation.

Oh, how happy she would be to see him. With a nonchalant hand movement, the headmaster cast a quick levitation spell on the dishes while a light emerald coat made its way towards Severus, floating mid-air. 

‘Now let us go to the greenhouse. I am sure Minerva is already there. Would you mind carrying the tray?’

The boy nodded with excitement.

The tray looked huge next to Severus, yet, he carried out the task with great care. Despite his shyness, he had recently started to open up, and Albus had been delighted with the discoveries he had made as a result. First, at 6 years old, the boy showed an early disposition for cooking, and that Albus had learnt in a rather curious way: while the boy had always eaten everything he and Minerva had cooked for him - despite their obvious lack of talent for the culinary art - the elves he had hired to look after the boy when they were away had informed him that Severus not only took great pleasure in cooking, but had shown remarkable talent in identifying ingredients by taste, and made helpful suggestions about which spices to add to the soup. Speaking of smell, the boy was, in fact, ever curious: the first time they had walked down to the greenhouse, he had gathered the courage to ask Minerva what scent was coming from the ground. It had just rained, and the child’s face had lightened up when she had taught him the word petrichor. That was when she had started to teach him her native language; there was no shortage of words relating to the weather and natural world in Gaelic.

At the very moment Albus opened the door to the greenhouse a familiar laughter reached his ears. He could see Minerva’s red tartan blanket from where he stood and felt a sudden breath of childlike joy overcome him, perhaps because Severus, who was standing by his side, was brimming with excitement. His face, usually remarkably pale, was flushed; his small hands, resting on the tray he was holding close to his chest, could not be kept still, and neither could his feet.

‘Would you like to carry the desserts?’, Albus asked, putting down the dishes on the tray. ‘I can cast a spell that makes them very light.’

And there was Minerva. Her black hair was pulled in her usual tight bun, and she was sitting in a wooden chair with the tartan blanket up to her chest. It was a beautiful afternoon in early spring and sunbeams fell elegantly on the ground which, as a result of the dense foliage that covered the greenhouse dome, was speckled with shadows. Filius greeted the headmaster with a smile, moving to his left so that the older man could see Minerva properly. Albus felt the urge to hug her, but, aware that she preferred to leave affectionate gestures to the private sphere, simply pressed his right hand against hers. She smiled at him.

‘I hardly think such a fuss is necessary, my dear. Pomona here makes me feel like an invalid – and Filius, I am perfectly capable of pouring my own cup of tea.’

‘It is my pleasure, Minerva’, the other man responded.

The transfiguration teacher rolled her eyes. ‘Where is Severus, Albus? I thought you said you were bringing him with you?’

Albus frowned, turning back: ‘Why, he is her- Severus?’

But the boy had not followed him. Instead, he was still standing by the door, looking up in the air with what Albus immediately realised were tears running down his face. The old man felt his heart sink. Severus never cried aloud; many times they had thought he was sleeping his back turned in the opposite direction before realising he had been crying silently, while his body and face had kept perfectly still. Every time it had happened the headmaster had felt a sort of bitter, self-directed anger build in his chest: how long would it take for him to get to know the boy? To detect even the smallest signs of distress? He was a great wizard, but being a parent was something else entirely.

He ran towards the boy, kneeling next to him. ‘Severus, what is it?’

The little boy blinked back tears and replied, in a trembling voice: ‘The plant took my desserts’.

For a second Albus stood there, puzzled; then, looking up, he understood. One of Pomona’s plants, a small shrub with gigantic branches with a mind of their own, had taken the tray away from Severus – at this very moment, the dishes were in a precarious position, some four meters above the floor, going from branch to branch towards the shrub.

‘Pomona, can you come for a minute?’, the headmaster asked, gesturing towards her. She approached. ‘It seems that your friend here borrowed something important from Severus.’

The botanic teacher, gently patting the little boy’s shoulder, folded her arms in an authoritarian manner and, in a very teacherly way, looked up at the rebellious branches.

‘RUPERT. You get these down this instant! I am warning you, if any of them wind up broken, you won’t be getting any fertilizer for a week. A WEEK, you hear me?’

Like a child caught red-handed, the plant stood perfectly still the moment Pomona entered the scene – then a kind of high-pitched squeak came from the shrug and, slowly and carefully, the tray made its way back towards Severus, though the branches’ nonchalant gestures clearly indicated that this was being done against their will. Finally, an unhappy branch presented the tray to the child who took it back quickly, scowling at the shrug. The branch, in return, ruffled Severus’ raven hair and made a strange movement that must have been, in retrospect, a plant’s grimace.

And there the rivalry between Rupert and Severus began, something that would, too, last well into his adulthood and make potion ingredients gathering a handful. Often at lunchtime Professor Snape would enter the dining hall looking like he had just swallowed a particularly strong dose of Skele-gro and completely dishevelled – that was why. Often he would get especially frustrated at his students for wasting ingredients – that was also why.

One year, Severus stopped coming, and Rupert’s branches hung miserably in the greenhouse, always beside the door.

‘Oh Severus, I’ve missed you so much!’ Minerva said, smiling at the little boy who was running towards her. And what do you have here? Is that for me? That looks delicious!’

‘Did he make these all by himself, Albus?’ professor Grubbly-Plank asked Albus as Minerva took a bite from her dish, Severus sat on her knees.

‘My dear, he is 6. Of course I helped him’, Albus replied.

‘Well, that is astounding’, Filius said, his mouth full of cream and strawberries.

‘I know. Who would have thought such a little boy could have so much talent?’

‘No, I meant, it is astounding that you helped and these still are excellent’.

‘Those biscuits weren’t that burned!’ Albus protested, vexed. ‘And it was two years ago!’

‘Filius, you’re being too hard on him’, Minerva intervened. ‘Who apart from us can say that they have tasted seasoned ashes? No one, I am sure.’ 

She paused maliciously while the old man huffed. ‘And Severus, these are the best desserts I have ever had.’

Severus’ face turned pink. He remained silent while all the grown-ups kept on talking; then, when the time came to go back to the castle, Minerva refused to let him go, carrying him in her arms all the way up to the castle. The little boy buried his face in her arms, looking as though he would soon fall asleep. Then he whispered, so that only Minerva and Albus could hear: ‘me and daddy have missed you, mum’.

For a second none of the adults could speak. They froze, looking at one another in disbelief: never before had the boy called them mum and dad.

Then, in the mild evening, they hugged him tighter than they ever had before, and Albus felt incredibly grateful – for his little boy, for Minerva who was alright, for all of them who were together; and, he added mentally as they reached the castle, for Severus’ improper use of grammar, fit for a child.

-

Yen - Yves Duteil

Yen

My little Vietnamese flower

I’ll love you no matter what, put your heart close to mine

Yen

Dry your tears forget your sorrows

You may remember that those who loved you are too far away

It has come, 

The time to live your childhood

In your great house in France, surrounded by serene love

Yen, my little Vietnamese flower

Dry your tears forget your sorrows, put your heart close to mine

Yen

May your life be also mine

As true as your parents love you, Drop all of your burdens here

Hate

Regret, Violence and Severe Punishment

May they never return, to wet your cheeks with a trickle of water

Sow 

Your laughter and clear soul

And if sometimes your heart is empty, let all your sobs burst

Love

Draw your strength from mine

And in our hearts that belong to you, find the bottom of your cradle

We’ll have to find the words - to teach you to dream higher...

Yen, my little Vietnamese flower

I’ll be there no matter what, put your heart close to mine

Yen, dry your tears forget your sorrows

You may remember that those who loved you are too far away

It has come, the time to live your childhood

In your great house in France, surrounded by serene love

Yen, my little Vietnamese flower

Dry your tears forget your sorrows, put your heart close to mine

Yen, dry your tears forget your sorrows

For no matter how far away you are coming back from, this country is already yours.

Yen, my little Vietnamese flower

Yen, my little Vietnamese flower.

[aliblablabla]

Magang Jadi Ibu-ibu

Ada yang masih menyepelekan pekerjaan "ibu rumah tangga"? Semoga udah nggak ada ya. Udah 2024 nih coy masih aja nyepelein perempuan yang berprofesi sebagai ibu rumah tangga.

Aku belum jadi wibu-wibu eh maksudnya ibu-ibu, cuma beberapa bulan ini lagi magang jadi ibu-ibu, ibu rumah tangga lebih tepatnya dengan anak 1 (baca: anak kocheng :p). Capeknya jadi ibu ruta anak 1 MasyaAllah Bund capek betol, padahal baru magang ini woy. Pekerjaan rumah (PR) zaman sekolah dulu nggak ada apa-apanya dibandingkan mengerjakan pekerjaan rumah yang literally pekerjaan rumah.

Pagi dimulai dengan nyapu halaman dan sebagian jalan depan rumah. Cukup melelahkan kalau halamanmu luas. Sambil memegang sapu di tangan, jangan lupa nyalakan kran supaya ember penuh dan siap digunakan untuk menyiram tanaman. Percayalah menunggu ember penuh air juga melatih kesabaran apalagi kalau PDAM di tempatmu nyala airnya itir-itir.

Nyapu dan nyiram selesai, bisa lanjut pergi ke pasar kalau memang isi kulkas kosong atau bisa lanjut masak (kalau nggak mager). Sebelum masak pun kadang bingung, "Masak apa ya kira-kira hari ini?". Di sela-sela memilah bahan masakan, jangan lupa untuk memberi makan anabul agar supaya kegiatan masak-memasak berjalan lancar tanpa gangguan anabul ndusel sikil. Beres memasak terbitlah korah-korahan, kalau masakmu pagi itu agak ribet harus sabar nyuci piring dkk yang menggunung. Lagipula seringkali habis masak nggak langsung makan, butuh jeda beberapa menit sampai akhirnya muncul rasa lapar.

Lanjut ke nyapu dalam rumah. Dan bersabarlah bagi kalian yang rumahnya luas seluas Malfoy Manor. Makin kerasa capeknya kalau nyapu mu dilanjut ngepel wkwkwkwk. Nah setelah lantai rumah terasa adem kayak iklan obat pel, sebaiknya gegoleran sebentar. Ibaratnya, kayak anak SD yang istirahat minum es setelah pelajaran matematika alias sweger pol.

Kalau ada cucian di bak, air bisa diajak kerjasama, dan nggak hujan ya nyuci dong. Tapi masalahnya air di rumah seringnya sulit diajak kerjasama, jam sekian baru nyala bahkan pernah malam baru nyala.

Dan pekerjaan rumah paling melelahkan jatuh kepada nyetrika! Mungkin karena panas yang timbul dari setrika kali ya jadi ikut sumuk belum lagi kalau baju susah licin padahal udah disemprot rapika juga.

Cukup melelahkan bukan? Belum lagi kalau si ibu juga harus mengurus suami dan anaknya. Belum lagi kalau si ibu juga nyambi kerjaan sampingan. Dan belum lagi kalu si ibu juga merangkap wanita karir. Semangat Ibu-ibu!! (^_^)9

[oraclekleo]

Kleo's Oracle Decks [02]

Hello!

This is a second part of me sharing what oracle decks I own. You have seen some of the cards on the pictures I occassionally post together with the reading but not all decks were included in those.

So let's see with what I work when crafting those readings you like!

The Lantern Oracle

Angelina Mirabito ^ Illustrated by Yuly Alejo

This is such a beautiful and deeply meaningful deck. I can imagine it to be super good for shadow work. I don't do that very often but I still like to use this deck for a daily pull and sometimes for the personal readings. It's artistically superb.

The Solitary Witch Oracle

Lucy Cavendish ^ Illustrated by Lady Viktoria

This is one of the most aesthetically beautiful decks I own. When I saw it was about to be released, I knew I will need it. It's a recent purchase, I didn't have that much time to use it but first impression is highly positive. I can relate to the theme of the deck as I also live alone and some might call some of my habits and hobbies witchy. 😁 I'm looking forward to read this deck more often in future and I believe it's going to become one of my favourites.

The Wild Unknown Alchemy

Kim Krans

This is one of those super unique decks that approach the whole spiritual aspect of life from a new angle. I trully love the connection with the grandfather of modern science - Alchemy. While it's not easy to work with this deck, it's actually one of my favourites. The meanings are pretty deep and resonating well with me. The only drawback is the shape and size of the cards. Maybe if they were smaller, the hexagon shape wouldn't be an issue but the cards are pretty large and there are 71 of them which makes a pretty decently thick deck. For someone with small hands like mine it's a challenge to shuffle it. But it's not like a major issue.

The Wild Unknown Archetypes

Kim Krans

Once again, a pretty original type of deck from the talented author Kim Krans. I also have her tarot deck. The Archetypes deck contains 78 cards and they are of circular shape. Once again, for my hands they are pretty big but they still shuffle easier than the hexagon ones. The archetypes are picked pretty well and not limited to like human roles or personalities. It's also one of my favourite decks despite the fact it's not the easiest one to read.

The Wild Unknown Animal Spirit Oracle

Kim Krans

And last deck from Kim Krans. This one is more on the traditional side. It contains animals sorted into categories by element - fire, earth, air, water - plus there's a special spirit category where you can find some mythical creatures like Unicorn or Dragon for example. It's one of my favourite decks and I use it often as it tells me what kind of energy I have today or what kind of energy needs to heal. And I love animals, of course. It's a beautiful and pretty universally useful deck.

The Wisdom of Trees Oracle

Jane Struthers ^ Illustrated by Meraylah Allwood

I love this oracle deck. It gives such peaceful vibes. I'm a nature lover and this tree deck simply resonates so well with me. I often use it in my personal readings as it gives pretty useful informations. The cards can actually read as reversals, too, as the guidebook includes reversed card meaning. I don't read reversals in tarot nor oracle but I know for some this could be a useful information.

Urban Crow Oracle

MJ Cullinane

Once again, you can see that the author is my favourite as I also have three tarot decks from her. This a truly good oracle deck and I felt such an immediate connection when I hold it in my hands for the first time. I love crows. They are one of the smartest birds and they can truly act in a bit of human way. This oracle shows how much of love and respect the author has for them, too. I smilled reading some of the stories that inspired the cards as I have experienced similar situations with crows, too.

Wild Mystic Oracle

Anastasia Catris

Yes, I have many animal decks. Because I love animals of all kind. This is such an impressive and useful deck. The guidebook includes a shadow meaning of each card as well as the ... regular meaning of it. It's pretty useful for readings and I often use this deck in personal readings. The cards are glossy and might be harder to shuffle but that's really a minor setback.

Woodland Wardens

Jessica Roux

This deck gives such a vintage vibe but it's genuinelly beautiful. Each card combines an animal with some plant and the guidebook gives messages for both straight and reversed position of the cards. I love the aesthetics and the messages which are pretty short and straight to the point.

The Literary Witches Oracle

Taisia Kitaiskaia ^ Illustrated by Katy Horan

This is one of my newer decks and I haven't had the opportunity to use it in depth yet. It's for those who are fans of literature and it contains cards depicting famous female literature authors and then there are cards depicting symbols or items often used in stories. The guidebook is pretty short and not very complex which is a pity as I think it had a potential to make more of the cards but then again, working with oracle cards is a personal experience and when the guidebook is thin it opens the door for your own take on the meanings. I wouldn't recommend this deck to beginners, though.

These were my oracle decks (some more are on their way to me so this post will be updated soon, same for the tarot decks post).

Oracle cards are always pretty specific.

Tell me whether some of these caught your attention.

Do you use oracle decks? Which one is your favourite? Do you connect well with oracle cards? Do you combine oracle cards and tarot?

Share with us!

I personally combine tarot and oracle only in specific cases, I don't really have a spread that would include both types (with the ideal partner spread exception). Do you have ideas how to include any of the oracle decks in the existing spreads? Feel free to give your suggestion.

Check part 1 of my Oracle Deck:

Kleo's Oracle Decks [01]

Check the Tarot Decks:

Kleo's Tarot Decks [01]

Thank you for reading!

[usafphantom2]

A CIA Spyplane Crashed Outside Area 51 a Half-Century Ago. This Explorer Found It.

How urban explorers uncovered the site—and the memory—of a covert Cold War–era accident.

Sarah Scoles

composite illustration and picture of a jet in a desert

Stealth A-12 jets were never meant to be seen, then one went missing in the Nevada desert. US Air Force

“OXCART” WAS AN ODD NICKNAME for the plane that killed pilot Walter Ray. Oxcarts are slow, cumbersome, and old. Ray’s A-12 jet, meanwhile, was fast, almost invisible, and novel. Among the US’s first attempts at stealth aircraft, it could travel as quickly as a rifle bullet, and fly at altitudes around 90,000 feet. On a radar screen, it appeared as barely a blip—all the better to spy on Soviets with—and had only one seat.

On January 5, 1967, that single space belonged to Ray, a quiet, clean-cut 33-year-old who spent his workdays inside Area 51, then the CIA’s advanced-aviation research facility. Set atop the dried-up bed of Groom Lake in the Nevada desert, the now-infamous spot made for good runways, and was remote enough to keep prying eyes off covert Cold War projects. On the books, Ray was a civilian pilot for Lockheed Martin. In reality, and in secret, he reported to the CIA.

Ray’s last morning on Earth was chilled and windy, with clouds moving in and preparing to drop snow on the nearby mountains. He took off for his four-hour flight to Florida and back a minute ahead of schedule at 11:59 a.m., the sleek curves of the Oxcart’s titanium body triggering sonic shock waves (booms) as it sliced through the atmosphere. He’d done this many times, having already logged 358 hours in these crafts.

At 3:22 p.m., Ray radioed back to base: His gas was low. “I don’t know where my fuel’s gone to,” he said. He lowered the plane out of the speedy headwinds, hoping to save some fuel. But the altitude change couldn’t cut his consumption enough.

Thirty-eight minutes later, Ray radioed in more bad news.

The fuel tank’s low-pressure lights had blinked on. The A-12′s jet engines—so powerful that the director of central intelligence once said they sounded as if “the Devil himself were blasting his way straight from Hell”—began to fail, then sputtered out.

At 4:02, Ray sent his final known transmission: He was going to eject.

Home Plate—as this group of airmen referred to Area 51—began to search. They hoped to hear a transmission from the shortwave radio in his survival kit. For them, this hunt was also personal. Many worked on the same mission as Ray: developing planes that didn’t exist in a place that didn’t exist, sometimes risking an accident like this, which also wouldn’t exist.

Isolated in the desert, the group of about 30 staffers Barnes worked with on the site’s Special Projects felt like family. “We went up on Monday morning, came home Friday night,” recalls former Area 51 crewmember T.D. Barnes. “We couldn’t tell our wives where we were at or what we were doing.”

At 3:25 p.m. the next day, a helicopter found the plane, strewn across three canyons. The crews cut a road through the sand to schlep out the debris before anyone else found it—and found out about the secret flight.

Two days after takeoff, a CIA aircraft finally spotted Ray’s parachute, and men helicoptered in to locate their comrade. His chute formed a shroud around his body, and his ejection seat sat some 50 yards above him on the hillside. The two hadn’t separated, his parachute hadn’t deployed, and so he had slammed straight into the Earth. Blood spattered the ground, but Ray’s boots still had their spurs.

To explain the aerial search going on, the Air Force told the public a cover story: An SR-71 Blackbird—whose existence had recently been revealed—flying out of Edwards Air Force Base, had gone down.

For years, Ray’s crash sites remained largely hidden from the public. But in the late 1990s, an explorer named Jeremy Krans began what would become a decades-long quest to uncover it all, and ultimately to make Ray’s once-classified life public. “I felt that we needed to do something,” he says, “because nobody knows who the hell Walt is.”

Krans had a pastime that gave him the skills to do something about it: urban exploring, sometimes called “urbex” by the initiated. It’s the art of adventuring in and around abandoned or hidden structures, urban and otherwise. Urbexers scavenger-hunt for sites and then crawl through closed tunnels, scour old buildings, flashlight around finished mines, and trek through old military bases. The community—small and loose but dedicated, lurking and sharing on forums and blogs—is populated by photographers and amateur historians. They like to go places that used to be something else, to someone else. They’ve uncovered spots others likely never knew about, like the New Jersey State Hospital for the Insane and the rainwater drains under Sydney. Krans, once a frequent poster on the urbex forum UER.ca, has always favored defense sites, beginning with empty missile silos and ghostly military installations in his early 20s.

In 1995, he and a group of like-minded friends formed an exploratory crew dubbed “Strategic Beer Command” (a riff on the US’s then-recently disbanded Strategic Air Command). It would be a few years before they’d learn of Ray’s site, but the motivation was already there: a desire to remember what the rest of the world had forgotten.

KRANS’ INTEREST IN AVIATION goes back to the 1980s, when his dad, a machinist fascinated by engineering and innovative planes, would sometimes bring home jet models. Krans’s favorite was the SR-71 Blackbird, a Cylon-ship of a craft, and the follow-on to the A-12 he’d one day search out. Meanwhile, Krans devoured films like Indiana Jones and The Goonies—tales of explorers and treasure-hunters.

His own journey into such journeying began just months after his father passed away. Krans’s employer, a General Motors dealership, had sent him to its Automotive Service Educational Program. He felt lost and listless, and spent hours killing time between classes in the school’s computer lab, largely sucked into websites about Area 51, where he had recently made a road trip. He started reading Bluefire, a blog run by a guy named Tom Mahood. In 1997, Mahood spun a tale of searching for—and finding—a long-lost A-12 crash site. It had taken him more than two years, 20 trips, and $6,000 to replace a sunk truck.

Mahood was a veteran prober of Area 51 secrets, having, for instance, dug into the conspiratorial claims of Bob Lazar, whose stories underpin most of the site’s alien lore. (The site’s true Cold War purpose wouldn’t be acknowledged until 2013.) Mahood first read about the A-12 crash in The Oxcart Story, a 1996 CIA history of the plane’s development, which said only that Ray’s craft had gone down about 70 miles from Groom Lake. That’s not a lot to go on. The lack of information appealed to Krans: a quest.

Before Bluefire, Krans hadn’t heard of an A-12, let alone one that had gone down in the desert. The jet, he soon learned, was a marvel in its time. It could fly nearly four miles higher and four times faster (around 2,200 miles per hour, or nearly three times the speed of sound) than its predecessor, the U-2.

At such speeds, friction with the air heated much of its skin up to 600 degrees Fahrenheit. In the 1960s, the only metal light and tough enough for such a feat was a titanium alloy, which made up 90 percent of the aircraft. The remainder comprised composite materials—relying heavily on iron ferrite and silicone laminate, swirled with asbestos—that absorbed radar, rather than bouncing the waves back to whoever was watching.

That wasn’t the end of the innovation list. The lubricants also had to work at both the extreme temperatures reached while traveling at three times the speed of sound, and at lower, cooler speeds. The engines needed “spike-shaped cones’’ that could slow down, squish, and then superheat the air coming in for better combustion. According to a CIA history of the plane’s development, without the spikes, the engines would only have gotten 20 percent of the required power. Amidst all this, pilots had to don astronaut-ish suits, with their own temperature and pressure controls and oxygen supplies.

While the A-12 represented a big leap forward, its usefulness would be short-lived. The US decided to stop flying over the USSR in 1960 after a U-2 pilot was shot down; satellites had begun to snap recon pictures from orbit; and the A-12 progeny, the SR-71 had performed its first test flight in 1964. The Oxcart flew only 29 missions, between May 1967 and May 1968, in an operation called Black Shield out of East Asia.

Ray was preparing for Black Shield during his final ride, which went sideways due to several factors: a malfunctioning fuel gauge, electrical mishaps, and perhaps an untested modification he himself had added—a common practice for test pilots. Ray, a short man, had added a 2-by-4 to his seat to make the headrest hit right. When he ejected, the wood kept him from separating from the seat, which stopped the parachute from deploying.

It was in that entrapment that Ray lost his life. And it was in that computer lab that Krans decided he needed to go find out where. At the time, it was just another exploration. “It’s Indiana Jones,” he says. “It’s treasure hunting.”

He liked how his explorations changed his conception of the past. “I’ve had a love-hate relationship with history,” he says. Reading stuff in school? Closer to “hate.” But seeking and finding something physical felt different. “You walk back in time, and you say, ‘Okay, what was happening right here if I was here 40 years ago?’” he says. “It gets you thinking.”

So he set out to think about Walt Ray.

KRANS BEGAN COLLECTING information that might lead him to Ray. The accident had left two crash sites, one for the pilot and one for his plane, which rocketed on after Ray ejected. He started with the details Mahood had spilled, which did not include the actual site of the crash. Urbexers don’t like to spoil the ending, or make it too easy for crowds to spoil the site itself, and generally leave what they discover as a mystery for others to keep solving. Maps and satellite images are typically their best tools, supplemented by databases of historical, military, or former industrial sites. UrbexUnderground.com recommends aimlessly following rivers, railroad beds, or rural roads—because those routes usually track development.

Mahood had scoured old newspapers. The Los Angeles Times put reports of the covered-up version of the crash four miles southeast of a Union Pacific Railroad site called Leith; the Las Vegas Review-Journal and the Las Vegas Sun plotted it four miles to Leith’s southwest. Not helpful. He’d searched topographic maps and the land itself, looking for scars on the landscape, or roads that seemed to lead nowhere. Krans gathered all the information he could from Mahood’s descriptions.

Wanting to get more details, Krans told officials a “BS story” and then offered to cover a doughnut bill for the recorder’s office in Pioche, Nevada. Information gathered from the paperwork, which included Ray’s death certificate, revealed that the pilot had died 200 yards east of a particular mining claim, a couple miles from the larger Cherokee mining operation. Krans began to gather his own detailed maps of the area, and negatives of aerial photos. Soon, he knew approximately where Ray had met his end: just off an area called Meadow Valley Wash—a low drainage that flows with water when it storms. The spot was miles from anywhere, on the side of a hill whose poky desert plants scrape anyone who walks by, and over which wild horses keep watch.

The search for Walter Ray

Krans first headed out in the fall of 1998, driving to Cherokee Mine, and searching for plane debris, at a site somewhere farther out than Ray’s landing spot. To try to find that second location, he took pictures, tried to match them to his maps, and marked down the labeled sticks denoting mining claims. Two more subsequent trips, over a few ensuing years, also revealed nothing.

He gave up for a while. But the story kept flying through his mind. Not a good quitter, he ordered more digital photos from the United States Geological Survey (USGS) and filed a Freedom of Information Act request with the CIA. The results offered a few (differing) sets of coordinates for Ray’s hard landing and his plane’s.

The next time Krans went out, in 2005, he took eight people and three trucks. At the time, a flood had washed out the area, leaving 30-foot drops off the side of a narrow road. They uncovered nothing that he was sure came from a downed jet.

When he returned next in 2008, Krans brought along two four-wheelers, companions, and his daughter, Mercedes. At four years old, she’d been hearing about Ray much of her life. All they discovered were water bottles from earlier explorers.

“Something just told us that we were close,” Krans wrote at the time in a post on Roadrunners Internationale’s website, run by Area 51 veteran Barnes. The group aims to preserve the history of those who worked on Area 51′s classified aircrafts during the Cold War—and reunite, digitally and physically, the ones who are left, now that they can freely talk. The Roadrunners, about two dozen strong, have inducted Krans as an “associate member.”

On Krans’s next trip in 2009, he brought old hands and newcomers. One first-timer asked Krans if—after so many years of seeing nothing—he expected to just walk up and uncover the crash site. “Yup,” Krans said around the campfire, a cigar in his mouth and a near-empty beer in his hand. “I’ve been here too many times and know too many places that it wasn’t,” he wrote for the Roadrunners. “Like a life-size game of Battleship, it just can’t hide anymore.”

The next morning, the Commanders began their search where the group had halted the year before. It happened right away: As Krans was walking up a wash offshoot, something synthetic-looking caught his eye. Leaning down, he picked it up. It was an artifact from the A-12.

The others fanned out, and soon found their own pieces. They were right in the middle of the field of debris, left scattered by tragedy more than 40 years before.

Recalling this moment, Krans—who, since graduating from GM, has owned his own car-servicing shop and worked as an HVAC specialist—what it was like to find the site after so long, his voice breaks. “I don’t know how to describe it, I really don’t,” he says.

His limbic system manifests mostly in actions. Such as when, five years later, in 2014, Krans brought a memorial—a model of the A-12, welded to a metal pole—to near Ray’s resting place. He and Mercedes made it. They traced the plane’s edges onto body-shop paper, overlaid it onto a steel plate, and sliced the shape with a plasma cutter. Using a pipe bender from Krans’s old shop, they fabricated the engine housings, which stick out like devilish exhaust pipes.

At one point in their explorations, Mercedes asked her father why they were doing all this.

“Because nobody else did,” Krans told her.

OVER THE 12 YEARS Krans and various Strategic Beer Command adherents had spent seeking, the true goal of their quest had shifted. “As I kept making trips back, I just—” he pauses. “It got to be more about Walt.”

It became about pulling Ray and the other Area 51 workers—like Barnes—out of anonymity and back into existence. “A bunch of these guys, they were ghosts,” he says. “They didn’t exist for that portion of their lives.” A little metal memorial could change that.

On a September day, I attempted to find it. Outside the small town of Caliente in southeast Nevada, the road turned to well-graded dirt, curving around the rocky mountains whose strata mark the tectonics and erosions that led them to their current state.

The much-worse road that winds up to Cherokee Mine doesn’t have a name. At the intersection, Google Maps says only “Turn left.” Deep gravel threatened to strand the tires; cacti aimed to pierce them. At Cherokee Mine, a wild horse watched from the ridge above, still as a monument.

It was hot outside—115 degrees, much different than the morning Ray took off.

In the valley, I stopped following the wash and hiked toward the approximate place where I thought Ray went down, based on a scouring of topographic maps—matched with a picture of the saddle where the recovery helicopter had landed 53 years ago, and a close reading of descriptions from Mahood’s and Krans’s adventures. I scampered up another hill, around its side, back down, up another, and then back to the wash to survey again.

Finally, from the elevation where I started, I saw above me a stick-like object poking up out of a rock just one ridge over. No, I thought. That’s a dead tree. But next to the wood, there it was: a matte black pole poking from the rock, a sculpture at its top. I had been right next to it, just like Krans was when he found the debris field, the remnants of humans past blending within the landscape.

When I reached the spot, a low buzzing came from the scaled-down plane. The wind was sliding across the open ends of its engine housings. Krans didn’t intend for that to happen; it’s just how moving air and open pipes work. “It almost brings a tear to your eye, doesn’t it?” Krans asks me later.

It did. I started thinking of Ray, falling to Earth. Here. Of a secret death to go with his secret life.

Drilled into the rock next to the memorial is a metal sign: Walter L. Ray, it says, the words welded into the plaque. In service of his country, 5 Jan 1967.

Past the Oxcart, there were no other signs of humans. No evidence of their aerospace achievements, wars cold or hot, lives, or deaths. Only this miniaturized A-12, whose silhouette sits stark against scrubby plants—its nose pointed toward Home Plate.

An Army-green ammo box sits nearby, bolted down and hosting notes from those few who’ve visited. Along with a laminated printout of Ray’s story, there’s a handwritten page from Krans, addressed to Ray. “I will always have a beer for you and the boys,” it says. “You guys earned it. And after the Roadrunners organization is gone, know that the memory will live on.”

The Roadrunners are getting older. The last reunion at the time this was written in 2021, which Krans attended, happened in 2015. After that, there weren’t enough of them left. One year at the Nevada Aerospace Hall of Fame annual banquet, which has become something of a makeshift reunion for Roadrunners and their associates, Frank Murray, an A-12 pilot himself, came up to Krans and shook his hand. “You make us remember,” Murray told him.

Memories of their time inside Area 51 are, in fact, all the Roadrunners have of that ghost-like period of their lives. “None of us has ever got to go back out there,” says Barnes. “Once you leave, you’re gone.”

Sarah Scoles is a freelance science journalist and regular Popular Science contributor, who’s been writing for the publication since 2014. She covers the ways that science and technology interact with societal, corporate, and national security interests.

[olehbintang]

Hari Ini Hari Minggu

- Oleh Bintang

Ke halaman malam itu risau datang tak kenal waktu. Aku merebah kasur di antara semak belukar dan rerumputan. Nyatanya pagi tak perlu dinanti, gelas terisi dengan sendirinya.

Bujuk sang fajar menerpa kapal yang sedang ku dayung, wanginya semerbak roti terbelah kukus menjadi dua. Ah, aku yang terlalu nyata.

Cermin terlalu ajaib di belakang sana, bayangan menjelma aku yang senang bercanda. Oh, kran air lupa ku matikan, gemericik airnya membuatku bungkam.

Wajahku terlalu kusut-kusam, hidungku tersendat dan mata memerah. Kopi tinggal seteguk, roti separuh tak tersentuh, jam dinding berdetak lebih cepat dari biasanya.

Cepat! Waktu sudah menunjukkan pukul setengah!

"Setengah apa?" Kataku sambil menyeruput sisa waktu. Telinga ku pasang, ambil kancing dan tas selempang, ini waktunya pembalasan.

Kota terlihat begitu sibuk. Ah, perasaanku saja-mungkin. Orang-orang terlalu serius, wajahnya mengeras serupa sumpah yang tertindas. Nikmati saja dulu, waktu kita tinggal separuh.

Satu lembar telah pulang ke pelukan tuannya, pintu hijau itu ku geser perlahan-berdenyit. Barang telah tertata di antara kata, apron setengah jadi hampir kupasang. Hey, suara itu terdengar lagi; gemericik air yang lupa kumatikan, sialnya kran itu terbawa sampai mati.

Orang-orang berlalu-lalang membawakan senyum yang tidak seberapa itu. Tiba waktunya membakar batang ketenangan, tembakaunya menghitam, bara api mencekam.

"Aku perlu menulis, apapun itu."

Mulutku bisu, jari jemari menuliskan apa yang ada di kepala. Jadilah, terkumpul beberapa paragraf tanpa revisi, tanpa suntingan. Tulisan ini, satu kali saja. Aku tak ingin menyuntingnya, biarlah apa adanya. Dan, selesai.

-bintang

[agroindustrisurabaya]

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[iwyzz]

♡ All too well ♡

♡Pairing : neteyam × f!omaticaya!reader

♡warnings : crying, arguments

♡: fluff, angst

notes : english is not my first language. so I'm sorry for any mistakes.

《Btw》: I changet the lyric a little bit to fit in the story

Enjoyyy!! ♡

I walked through the door with you, the air was cold. But something 'bout it felt like home somehow

You walked with Neteyam into his family's hut for the first time. It was cold but you felt nice and safe. "I like your hut" you said when you two were laying in his hamock. "I'm glad you like it." He smiled "But I'm scared about meeting your family here" you looked up from his chest into his eyes. "You don't need to be scared. It will be okay. My parents or even my siblings won't kill you. And you know Kiri and Tuk a little bit so it will be alright." You nodded your head. He was right

And I left my scarf there in your sister's hamock

"You've still got it in your draw, even now?" You asked Neteyam when you were looking for your items to make Tuk a new bracelet and noticed your scarf. "Well yeah. But I still don't get why you have it" you laughed at his confused tone. "The sky people wear it when It's cold and I wanted to try to wear it too" you shrugged. "Fine, then you need to start wearing another one. I will keep this red one" you looked at him and smiled. He did keep it.

Oh, your sweet disposition and my wide-eyed gaze

Sitiing on the grass playing with Neteyam's hair was calming. Moments like these were one of your favorites. You looked down to your lap to see Neteyam looking at you. "What?" You asked "Nothing. You are just so beautiful" He saw the blush on your cheeks but you still tried to hide it by looking at the tree in front of you "Don't look away from me, my love" he chuckled and took your chin between his two finger making you look down at him. "You are beautiful. And I love you so much" you blushed again. "I love you too" Were you Naive? Maybe.

We're flying on your kran, getting lost upstate. Autumn leaves falling down like pieces into place.

You were enjoying the view from Neteyam's ikran. "You are not scared anymore?" Neteyam asked behind you "Should i be?. Look how beautiful it is" He smiled. "Look down there!" You poited under the two of you with your index finger. "It's amazing!" You were amazed by it. Then you flied throught a falling leaves. You lauged while putting your arms up to touch the leaves. "How beautiful"..

And I can picture it after all these days. And I know it's long gone and. That magic's not here no more. And I might be okay, but I'm not fine at all

You were telling this memory to Kiri after you and Neteyam broke up. "It was amazing" you sighed "but well..Its not here anymore" She smiled sadly at you "It will be okay again Y/n" You nodded your head "i know. I just miss it, miss him so much" you wipped your tears "I don't know how to get myself together" Maybe it will get better. But when? You didn't know

'Causе there we are again on that little meadow. You almost ran over the stump 'cause you were lookin' over at me.

"Well it was amazing today" you were telling him about your day. He was listening carefully sometimes nodding to tell you that he is following the story. "Kiri and Tuk told me that you found some new place today" he smiled when he saw you nodding happily clearly remembering the moment. "Yeah, yeah. We did. It's so beautiful. The flowers and trees are making it look like dream." Neteyam's eyes were starting at you and you smiled when you noticed but stopped saying "Wait!" when you saw him almost running over the stump. He laughed looking at you again "Well i almost Killed myself today" You laughed at his note. Wind in your hair, You were there You remember it all too well..

Photo album on the counter, your cheeks were turning purple. You used to be a little kid with glasses in a twin-sized bed.

You smiled when you saw his cheeks turning purple. He was blushing while you were looking through the album. "Look at you on this photo!" You said happily showing him photo of himself. "Its so embarassing, love" you shaked your head "It's not. I like your old photos" he smiled "I didn't know ypu wore glasses" you looked at him "Well you know now" nodding your head saying "they suited you".

And your mother's telling stories 'bout you on the first training.

You were laughing along with Neytiri. "I wish i could see it" she nodded still laughing "Me too. But even though Jack just told me this story its funny." You two stopped laughing after a second. "Do he remember it?" She shaked her head "I don't think so. But when we told him this he was so embarassed." She chuckled.

You tell me 'bout your past, thinking your future was me.

You were smiling, looking into his eyes, standing in front of him on the spot you two exposed your feelings for each other. You didn't know what was coming. "I love you" he suddenly said. Your lips parted a little bit at the surprise. You thought he sees you "I love you" You said a little sad about the words. "Some years ago i wouldn't even think about standing here with you in my arms but now? Now I know you are the one" . You smiled. Not knowing what was coming.

We were always skipping forest.

Flying on your ikrans, laughing and enjoying every second with each other. "I will win this time" you yelled at Neteyam. "No, I don't think so". Ofc you didn't win.

And I was thinking on the drive down, any time now. He's gonna say he sees me..

Smiling and hoping that the three words will leave his lips any minute. "You enjoying the view, yawne?" He asked. Even though you were tired you still looked at the nature around you. "Yeah. But I want to sleep" he chuckled "Then sleep. I will take you home after we arrive.." ..you never called it what it was.

Till we were dead and gone and buried. Check the pulse and come back swearing it's the same.

After three months in the grave. And then you wondered where it went to as I reached for you.

His heart skipped a beat. Your heart too. The two of you felt like the pulse wasn't there. He was wondering why. "I love you. I won't end it" he said. "You yelled at me literally for caring about you then said you think this won't work anymore and now you are saying this?" You were confused. You didn't do anything. "I know, I know. And I'm sorry. I will make it up to you. Just don't do this to me" ofc you didn't do it...

But all I felt was shame and you held my lifeless frame.

It was like He was holding your lifeless body after the fight. You were so tired of everything. You felt ashamed. You should just end it..

And I know it's long gone and. There was nothing else I could do.

You were again arguing "Its happening again. I don't know what to do, 'teyam" he shaked his head knowing that you wanted it to end. "I love you so much okay? I just didn't think in that moment" he walked closer to you "just give me another chance. The last one. Okay? I don't want to loose you" you just looked at him for a second before nodding your head. There was something else you could do..

And I forget about you long enough. To forget why I needed to.

Kiri shaked her head "Don't get me wrong, I love my brother but you just need to move on" you sighed. "I know. I just can't" she looked you in the eyes "Or you don't want to?" You eyes widened at her words. Maybe. "Why I need to get over him? It has been so long." Kiri hated the words leaving your lips "I can't believe it. You were hurted, crying yourself to sleep and now you just say this?" You couldn't believe it too. "Maybe you are right, I don't want to forget him" the last thing you remember is Kiri's eyes widening.

Cause there we are again in the middle of the night. We're dancing ‘round the forest in the moonlight.

His hands on your waist, your hands around his neck and head on his chest. "Is this how the sky people dance?" He asked. You laughed "Yeah. But like on the dates or weddings or like we right now. Just because they want to" he smiled "I like it". You looked at him in the eyes "I think its time for me to say I see you" you were shocked. Your eyes starting to tear up. Neteyam took your silenece as a reason for not being ready to say it back "If you are not ready to say it back, It's okay." you shaked your head "No, no, It's not that" you smiled "I just thought you would never say it" you took a deep breath "I see you". he smiled, pulling you closer to him and started dancing slowly again. I was there. I remember it all too well

And there we are again when nobody had to know

"Shh you need to be quiet or they will find out" he whispered when you chuckled a little. You were sneaking out together. Where? You didn't know. Maybe just to take a walk around the village. "Maybe we should tell them" You said while walking in the forest "It's too early, my love" you looked at him confused "three months are too early?" He turned his head looking at you "I just-" he took a deep breath "I want to take things slow. I don't want to rush our relationship" you nodded "Okay. You are right. I'm sorry" Why?

You kept me like a secret but I kept you like an oath.

Crying in Neteyam's arms was..embarassing for you for some reason. "Its okay. I'm here" his strong arms were wrapped around your body, keeping you close to his chest. "I'm so sorry. I'm sorry" he shaked his head "Don't be. It's okay." You pulled away from him, looking into his eyes "Maybe your parents are right. You need someone strong and responsible. Someone who won't cry in your arms because of stupid things" his eyes softened "What?" He didn't know ypu heard him talking with his parents about finding the next Tsahik. "I heard you talking with your parents and they are right. Look I can't even keep you like a secret anymore." He smiled putting his hand on your cheek "I want only you. Only you, ma yawne" He wipped your tears. You didn't keep him like a secret, you kept him like an oath..

Sacred prayer, and we'd swear. To remember it all too well, yeah.

"No. Neteyam, you promised me to be careful. But you weren't" you said looking at his body full od bruises and wounds. "You almost died today" he walked to you "I know. But I came back. I came back to you." He put his hand on your arm, caressing it. "I'm here with you. Alive.". After this you found you two laying in the grass just enjoying each others presence. "I swear to remember this all even after leaving this world." He suddenly said making you surprised. You looked at him smiling "I swear to remember this too". And you did remember it. All to well.

Maybe we got lost in translation. Maybe I asked for too much.

All you wanted was him to look at you like at thhe only one he ever loved. You wanted him to keep you save, to whisper in your ear calming things when you were sad, you wanted him to love you. And he did. But sometimes you just felt you asked for too much.

Running scared, I was there. I remember it all too well.

And you call me up again, Just to break me like a promise.

It was some time after your break up with Neteyam. You shaked your head at his words "No" he looked at you confused, not expecting your words "I won't do this" you said showing the two of you with your hand. You looked at him, you eyes watering "I can't and I won't" he made a step foward you "I love you" you scoffed, shaking your head "You don't. You know you don't, 'teyam". He knew you were right "I know. It was a mistake. The break up was a mistake. I shouldn't do it." You wipped your tears "Just let me go Neteyam" Crying yourself to sleep the same night. Just thinking about all these things. Just remembering it all too well.

So casually cruel in the name of being honest. I'm a crumpled up piece of paper lying here.

Lying your head on Kiri's lap, she playing with your hair. "I don't know what to do. It is good thing that we broke up?" You looked up at her "Well I was a big fan of you two. But to be honest you were just killing yourselfs. It's good that you ended it before the relationship could hurt you more." She looked down at you "Don't cry." She wipped your tears "I feel so weird. And so phatetic. It's like tenth time i'm crying to you" she shaked her head "you are not phatetic. You just remember it all" All, All Too well

They say all's well that ends well but I'm in a new hell. Every time you double-cross my mind.

You said if we had been closer in age maybe it would have been fine. And that made me want to die

Before Neteyam and you started dating he was scared of your age gap. Even though its just 2 years it was long for him for some reason. You were friends but he was always saying "It's better for us to just stay friends. Our age is not the same". And when you were fighing over something he always said "It's the age". You always rolled your eyes at his note. You hated it. That was why you were more angry than sad when you heard Neteyam talking to Lo'ak saying "Maybe if we were closer in age it would end up differently" Pff lie.

The idea you had of me who was she. A never-needy ever lovely jewel whose shine reflects on you

He was the next Olo'eyktan and you were a healer in the village. Was he not embarassed dating you? No. You were the prettiest girl in the village. Maybe he was proud to date you. But maybe embarassed. Was he happy with you? Or bored? Were you enough? Or just lovely jewel?

Not weeping in your hut. Your sister asking me what happened. You, that's what happened: you

Wipping your tears while walking to the healers hut. "Are you okay, Y/n?" Tuk asked when you entered the hut "I'm okay. Tuk don't worry" you smiled "What happened?" You furrowed your eyebrows "Nothing. I'm okay. Really,Tuk" she looked at you for a second then nodding her head. "Okay."

You, who charmed my dad with self effacing jokes. Talking about everything like you're on a late night show.

You weren't scared about Neteyam meeting your parents. He was the next Olo'eyktan they knew him and knew that he was sweet and kind. Your parents loved him immediately. Especially your dad loved him. He was charming and funny and your parents mainly your dad loved that. Your father and Neteyam always talked about everything. Really everything. And after meeting Neteyam he told you something you will never forget. "He's a good guy. If he won't hurt you, keep him."

But then he watched me watch the front door all night willing you to come

You looked up from the bracelet you were making just to see your mom walk in. "You are waiting for someone?" Your dad asked when he noticed the disappointed in your eyes. You shaked your head no, going back to making the bracelet. In the middle of the night you were sitting in your hamock willing he would show up. But he didn't. So you just stared at the etrance not knowing your dad was watching your sad face.

And he said it's supposed to be fun turning fifteen.

"You are not going out with your friends?" Your mom asked when you were helping her cook. "No, It's almost eclipse. And I'm tired" you said. "You should have fun on your birthday" you smiled at your dads words "I am having fun with you two".

Time won't fly, it's like I'm paralyzed by it. I'd like to be my old self again, but I'm still trying to find it

After plaid shirt days and nights when you made me your own. Now you mail back my things and I walk home alone.

Your stomach hurted from how hard you were laughing. "It happened a long time ago, love" Neteyam chuckled "I know but that doesn't mean it's not funny" you smiled. Wearing one of Neteyam's plaid shirts, which he got from the lab and him wearing a neklace you made for him to match with you, was making you feel so happy. Your head on his shoulder while his arm was around your body made you think you were his. That was why you were crying when you walked from the spot, this happened, alone now. And that was why you were crying when you saw the neklace in the box with your things.

But you keep my old scarf from that very first week.

You were babysitting Tuk because Neytiri and Jake were on a date, Kiri was helping her grandmother in the healing hut and Neteyam and Lo'ak were hunting. You were telling Tuk a fairytale about a Princess and a Prince. "I'm cold." Tuk suddenly said. You smiled handing her a big red scarf. She happily took it from you and wrapped it around her. "Neteyam has the same one. But the one he has is smaller." You looked at her confused "Wait, really?" She nodded "Yeah. He always uses it like i pillow" she laughed "I don't understand why" Why he didn't give it back?

'Cause it reminds you of innocence and it smells like me

"But why would he keep it, Kiri?" You were telling her about what Tuk told you. You were confused. "I don't know" she shrugged "But he gave me my things back! He even gave me the neklace i gave him!" She looked at you surprised "Wait, he really gave you the neklace back?" You nodded "Yeah. So why would he keep something that is mine?" Then she realized something. Her eyes widening a little "What?" You asked "Maybe it reminds him of you" she looked in your "He can't get rid of it. 'Cause he remember it all too well" ..Yeah

'Cause there we are again when I loved you so. Back before you lost the one real thing you've ever know

Laying in Neteyam's arms, listening to his heart beat was something you did almost every day when you two had a break from everythingsnd everyone. "This one looks like a flower" he pointed at one of the clouds on the sky. "Yeah you are right" you said "You don't see it right?" You shaked your head no. He started laughing "Stop. It's not my fault". You looked up to see him already looking at you. "You are so handosme" his cheeks started turning purple "Neteyam is blushing" he hid his face in his hands "Stop hiding your handosme face from me". Oh, how you loved him ..

It was rare, I was there. I remember it all too well. Wind in my hair, you were there. You remember it all

Your relationship with Neteyam was amazing. Even though he wasn't acting the same in the end you wouldn't change anything about your relationship with him. He made you feel like the most perfect girl on the planet. He made you feel loved. It was rare for you. For everyone.

Down the stairs, you were there. You remember it all. It was rare, I was there. I remember it all too well

And I was never good at telling jokes but the punch line goes. I'll get older but your lovers stay my age

From when your Brooklyn broke my skin and bones. I'm a soldier who's returning half her weight

And did the twin flame bruise paint you blue. Just between us did the love affair maim you too

Cause in this city's barren cold I still remember the first fall of snow. And how it glistened as it fell, I remember it all too well

Just between us did the love affair maim you all too well. Just between us do you remember it all too well

You knew he remember it. You knew he remember every single thing all too well.

Just between us I remember it, (just between us), all too well

You can't forget anything that happened. Anything that happened in the relationship and anything that happened after the relationship. Maybe bacause it was rare..

Wind in my hair I was there, I was there. Down the stairs I was there, I was there

You looked into his eyes, seeing love. "I love your hair" he suddenly said "I love how they look when the wind is in them" you smiled.

Sacred prayer I was there, I was there. It was rare you remember it all too well

Wind in my hair I was there, I was there. Down the stairs I was there, I was there

Sacred prayer I was there, I was there. It was rare you remember it

Wind in my hair I was there, I was there. Down the stairs I was there, I was there

Sacred prayer I was there, I was there. It was rare you remember it

Wind in my hair I was there, I was there. Down the stairs I was there, I was there

Sacred prayer I was there, I was there. It was rare you remember it

__________________________________

Hii! ♡

I hope you like it.

It has been a while.

But here I am with another neteyam×reader!

Thank you for reading btw♡.

[laksmi2001]

Maka ketika kita sadar bahwa wadah kita sudah bukan gayung lagi, melainkan ember, itu artinya kita butuh air lebih banyak lagi. Kalau kita ingin ember itu cepat penuh dengan air, maka kita putar ke kanan lagi kran itu. Atau kalau kran yang kita pakai seret, maka kita coba kran yang lain. Ingat, tadi kita butuh cepat bukan? Maka kita harus berlari, bukan berjalan.

Kita butuh percepatan, kita dikejar waktu, sedangkan kemampuan kita terbatas, ilmu kita terbatas, pengalaman kita terbatas. Maka di sinilah akal digunakan. Apa yang bisa menambal itu semua? Maka pertanyaan inilah menjadi salah satu hal yg patut jadi keresahan kita. Di saat air di dalam ember kita sudah banyak ditunggu orang untuk keperluan mereka. Kita sendiri juga butuh air di dalam ember itu, tetapi kita sadar bahwa orang orang di sekitar kita pun membutuhkan.

Maka dengan segala keterbatasan ini, mari niatkan apapun itu untuk kebaikan, punyailah niat baik. Maka dengan itu, Allah akan pertemukan kita dengan orang² baik dan kesempatan² baik pula yang bisa membantu proses percepatan kita.

[cacatoto7]

 Desain Modern Clean Look Letter L

Model kitchen set letter L dapat mengoptimalkan penggunaan ruang dan membuat aliran kerja lebih efisien. Tempat cuci piring dan kompor dirancang dengan layout yang berseberangan pada kitchen set letter L. 

Area cuci piring memiliki single sink dan kran air dari stainless steel. Sementara itu, area memasak dilengkapi kompor freestanding dengan cooker hood dan kabinet gantung.

Desain kabinet yang dihiasi warna putih glossy dan sentuhan marmer menjadikan dapur tampak lebih clean, elegan, dan mewah. 

[kabarbanyuwangi]

Sumur Kering, Warga Desa Kebaman Banyuwangi Antre Ambil Air Bersih

RadarBanyuwangi.id – Sejumlah warga mengerumuni kran air yang terletak di tepi jalan raya Desa Kebaman, Kecamatan Srono, tepatnya depan Mapolsek Srono, kemarin (16/10). Mereka menunggu giliran mengisi air bersih yang dapat diminum langsung tanpa harus dimasak. Salah satu warga Agus Suliyanto, 42, asal Dusun Jambean, Desa Kebaman, Kecamatan Srono mengaku rutin datang ke tempat ini dua kali dalam…

[aliblablabla]

Mandiri=Mana Bisa Sendiri?

Lagi-lagi karena sitkon aku harus datang ke tempat itu sendiri untuk kedua kalinya. Yang pertama, dengan harapan tidak ditertawakan petugas di sana karena kasusku yang agak lutchu (re: jempol ketulusupan kulit salak) T.T Dan yang kedua ini, dengan harapan, "Dikasih obat terus pulang".

Setelah dari loket pendaftaran, aku masuk ke ER, menyerahkan surat pengantar kepada seorang laki-laki berseragam merah lengkap dengan bordir bertuliskan "119", kemudian ia menunjuk sebuah bed di ujung ruangan. Dibantu dua orang perempuan yang sepertinya sedang magang, aku naik ke bed yang cukup tinggi (setinggi harapan tetangga) itu. Satu di antaranya mulai memasangkan tensimeter digital di lengan kanan, yang lain menyiapkan alat penunjang lain. Seiring kantong udara tensimeter itu mengembang, seorang perempuan lain melakukan anamnesis.

"Mbak keluarganya mana?", tanya seorang laki-laki berbaju OK hijau.

"Saya sendiri Dok", ujarku.

"Oh ya sudah, nanti ini dibawa ke pendaftaran lagi ya", lanjutnya sembari menyerahkan secarik kertas.

"Waduh, apa nih?", batinku.

Aku kembali ke loket pendaftaran sambil membaca dengan teliti kertas buram itu. Membaca berulang. Lalu memutuskan untuk duduk di ruang tunggu dekat loket.

"Harus 'staycation' banget nih?", batinku.

Singkatnya memang mau tidak mau harus 'staycation'. Dan berlanjut pada sesi pengsian form a-z.

"Pak ini kalau saya pulang sebentar, terus balik lagi boleh nggak?", tanyaku pada salah seorang petugas.

"Nanti izin dulu sama dokternya ya Mbak", jawabnya.

"Lha kenapa kok pulang dulu?", tanya petugas yang lain.

"Kran air di rumah belum saya matikan Pak hehehe"

"Kucing saya juga belum makan Pak, daripada nanti nyolong lele punya tetangga", lanjutku dalam hati.

"Mbak tetap minta ditemenin keluarganya ya nanti. Buat ambil obat dll", tambah petugasnya.

"Ya Pak"

Setelah mendapat izin dan pemakluman para petugas itu akhirnya aku pulang dan kembali lagi. Kali ini datang lengkap dengan ransel berisi segala barang yang dibutuhkan mirip orang yang betulan mau staycation wkwkwkwk. Aku memasuki ruang ER, menuju bed di ujung utara melewati beberapa bed yang penuh pasien dengan keluarganya. Semua sibuk dengan keluarganya sendiri, tidak ada mata yang menatap penasaran pada seorang perempuan beransel hitam mirip anak hilang ini hahahahaha. Aku berbaring di bed berwarna abu-abu dan tak lama sepasang suami istri yang ku kenal nampak terlihat masuk ke ruangan.

"Mbaaakk!", seruku penuh rasa syukur.

Bersyukur karena malam itu aku tidak berakhir sendirian. Bersyukur karena aku nggak ngenes-ngenes amat hahahaha. Ternyata ya, semandiri-mandirinya manusia ya tetap membutuhkan bantuan manusia lain. Jadi sebenarnya enggak apa-apa banget minta bantuan orang lain, lha wong orang lain aja kadang suka minta tolong semena-mena juga (hehehe nggak ding, becyandaaa).