One day I saw my very old friend laid on a corner of storage room, looked dusty, Grey and abandon. It's still there waiting for me with hopeless and lonely, long time, more or less after a certain time, perhaps years could say it.
Actually it's calling me many time, 'Please touch me..., touch me... even only a single word that you can write...', but me, with an agony and ignorance, tried not to see it even with a single eye. 'Sorry I don't have time...' The old friend tried to keep calling me, 'Please come in...touch me..., I know you need a friend to listen your heart and I think I am the only friend of you, who can listen what you want to tell, everything...everything... with no complain and adjustment...'. It called me time by time till I could not hear it anymore, I guess that the sound was faded a way, blow with a wind, given up, surrounded by my ignorance.
I said, 'How could I forget it?' How did I ignore it just because of having a new one?. A new small note book, which comfort me for browsing or reading even it is too small for writing. The monitor and the keyboard which is in a kid size, absolutely not for writing purpose even for chatting. But it's so light, small, and movable. I can use it every where I want to, such as in the living room while I'm in front of TV, while I'm in the Kitchen, and so on.
The old Note book is a bit slow and having a loud sound as a typical of old (sorry friend I don't mean it, but in fact you are old enough to retire...). I cleaned and touched it, suddenly I felt a strength feeling, like a magnet which pull me to open it and try to write a “single word” like it had ever told me. Now I am re-charging my self to star learning again how to write, to write everything like I want to freely and without limitation.