Looking at the ceiling, looking at my day

Staring at the ceiling. I do it every night. On the ceiling I project my day. Sometimes it was good, sometimes it was bad, but it is always over. I look at my day at the ceiling and think about what I have learned or what I have done. Sometimes a lot, most of the time nothing. It does not matter. It is over anyway.

Looking at the ceiling, looking at my day, I never think about tomorrow. On my ceiling tomorrow does not exist. And I hope it never will.

Looking at the ceiling, looking at my day, I never think about yesterday. On my ceiling every day plays only once. I would like it to stay that way.

The ceiling helps me put things in perspective, just one day at a time. I have goals, things I want to accomplish in the future, but I can’t think about that when I am looking at my ceiling. There is not future on my ceiling, there is just today.

While staring at the ceiling there is just today.

Bloody hell, why do I have to be so sensitive?

This morning, I just got grumbling because of my mom’s boss. She yelled at me because she wasn’t satisfied with my service. Look, she would lunch, and I served her as well, but when she looked in the kitchen, there was a kettle of chicken soup which was not at the table.

She thinks I’m a lazy person, because maybe she assumes that I don’t want to serve her. I explained her, “Madam, the chicken soup isn’t ready yet. It’s still boiling.” – But it looked like she doesn’t want to understand.

I don’t know what she was thinking about me. My mom and I have worked with this madam for almost 17 years – so do I. We’re living in the same house, for my whole life she’s been giving me a place to stay.

And after that , I felt sad. I didn’t like the way she shouted at me, it was like I’m stupid. (Yes I’m stupid, so what???) I know for the first time I’m only a servant to her, nothing more. But, one thing I would love to say loudly in front of her face was, “I’m a HUMAN, I HAVE FEELINGS”.

Many times I saw her get mad at my mom. I felt sad. I know my mom also did stupid things which made her angry. But we’re still human.

Okay, I admit, sometimes I’m lazy, but if you’re disappointed with my service or acts, please tell me the decent way.

Well, maybe that incident wasn’t that serious. Maybe I’m too serious and sensitive. Yeah, that’s my lacking characteristic. I didn’t complain when she was angry at me. I can’t complain. She’s my boss, I deserved it.

Why is my life so messed up? I don’t feel I’m alive. No freedom. I’ll tell you why in private. (Just in case you want to know)

So, for this moment, I just want to run away from this house and the boss and her family, get graduated soon, get a decent job, living in my ‘home’. I WANT TO BE FREE. Could I?

I really can’t wait for the moment when I step out of my life from this house.

these are my fantasy.

Its not an Ecstasy

Its just fantasy of mine.

I'm dreaming about a billion wonderful things in this world.

I'm liking everything.

I'm talking to myself, it doesn't mean I'm a crazy.

In my own world inside my head, I can have unlimited fantasy, such as:

I feel I'm loved by somebody.

I feel I'm happy when strangers stared at me, even in reality none stare at me.

I fell there is someone watching me while sleeping every night, and kiss my forehead.

I feel I love somebody, even its hard for me to have crush to somebody.

I always feel I'm happy, but when I realized there are a lot of pains torture my soul.

I feel I have freedom, I could do everything. everything. just in my own fantasy.

I feel I could have a great conversation with Orlando Bloom, Matt Lanter, Richard Gere, and Mitch Hewer, or Dev Patel.

I feel like Dj.Noxx, my lovely uncle, care with me. and want me as his daughter.

I feel like nobody hates me , or doesn't sneaking behind my back. because its hurt.

And..

the most fantasy I could have is I feel I still can talk with my father. My dad. I could dance with him. I could hug him.

DAD, I REALLY MISS YOU. A LOT.

ada bule yang baik banget sama gue.

oke lo semua nggak usah ngiri.

dia dari Belanda. Datang ke Indonesia, mampir ke Bali dulu. Hal pertama yang ia lakukan adalah memberitahuku bahwa ia sudah di Bali. Ia menyuruhku menyusulnya. Mati gila? siapa yang mau bayarin tiket gue coba??
gue bilang, gue sibuk, gue suruh dia datang ke Jakarta aja.

gue kenal dia dari chatting. Orangnya nggak genit, ga kayak bule2 mesum lainnya. Fisik? keren banget! rambut warna coklat pirang gimana gitu., tinggi sih tinggi banget. Umurnya 22 tahun..

Seminggu dia di Bali, langsung menuju Jakarta. Awalnya dia mau nupang nginep. Wah mati gila gue,,masa nginep?? bisa diganyang sama nyokap!!

karena gue super duper minder ketemu bule,,gue menghindar untuk bertemu dengannya. Sebenarnya gue jahat setengah mampus, dia bela-belain ke Indonesia buat ketemu gue. kenapa gue malah kabur?
akhirnya ketemu lah gue,, dandanan gue lagi lepek, item, dekil, kumel, pulang kuliah.
gue pikir dia bakal kecewa ngliat fisik gue yang acak adut gak karuan, eh dia malah biasa aja..

terus herannya dia udah bisa sdikit2 bhasa Indonesia, katanya belajar di Bali.,dan..gw bingungnya kenapa gw lumayan lancar ngomong sama dia, comfort aja..

Gilaa...gue senang banget!!!