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Me

Hmmm, after some writings about my possible hero, my invisible spine, my  guy and my writings about you, I guess it is the time to write a little about me hehehe ....

Some people said I am a total dreamer, dreamer to the max! Well, what can I say, … because I am. I know and I admit it, that I am a dreamer.

College's subject introduced me with Freud. You might say I am a Freudian. I believe his theory on id, ego and superego and more over, I do believe in his book The Interpretation of Dream. Although Freud was hard to proved, and I am not a psychology student as well, but I feel that his theories are related to me, especially my dreams. Maybe that is why the science of dream is categorized as pseudoscience because no one can really interpret someone’s dream or how someone created a dream.

I do have troubles with dream since I was a little. This, I never talked about to my parents because I thought dreams are just dreams. Well, my mother often found me terrified or screaming out loud when I woke up, but yes ... we thought it was just nightmares. Everyone has nightmares, right? But then years passed by, the more I grow up the more I become even more sensitive of signs that are given to me, thru my dreams. And the more I am aware about my dream life, the harder for me to get a good sleep. Sometimes, I just hate to be a dreamer. But many times, it feels wonderful to actually see people I could not see in real life but I could meet them in my dreams, to know how they are doing, to sense what might happen, and on. Although, many times when I was feeling De Ja Vu, I sometimes could not differentiate whether it was my dream or my real experience.

Despite of the literal dreaming, I do feel my life is like a fairy tale. I remember when I was a kid and someone asked me “Where do you live?” And I said “Second star to the right with Peterpan and that is how you find me.” And when I walked home from school, I played pretend that I was lost somehow in a Hansel and Gretel forest, so I spread my bread crumbs along the way. And almost every night, I asked my father to tell me a story before bed. Yeah, many times they were just the same, lame story but I did not know why I asked for them more and more.

Sigh, … am I being so drama?

“Wake up, baby. Wake up!” That’s what my friend told me, one night. And yeah, I have been struggling to try. I understood that life is not a play ground and there are simple things that matters. I just can’t wait the perfect prince to pick me up and spread his robe for me to cross the puddle. That I have to calculate every single step I made. That the pondering time is over and I must wake up and I must be brave (Ah, … yet the word ‘brave’ itself sounds so fairy tale, uh?!).

Yes, and after having a deep conversation with a best friend; I drove home. And when I got home, I just realized that I had lost one of my shoes. My right-part-red-jelly-shoe, and I had no idea where I had lost it! Oh, someone had just told me to wake up and banished my fairy tale life away. But in contrast, I felt like Cinderella! 
Sigh, ... maybe real life is not so work for me after all, so I should get back to my dreamy life again and just embrace it.

*sitting gracefully and wait for the prince to return my jelly shoe :p

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love is love. marriage is another thing.

of all the things I ever wondered, ... I think I never wonder whom my kids will be married to. or to picture myself holding grand babies. not just a not yet, I think it is simply too hard to bear and too absurd to think of. but then I promise myself. I promise I will not ever push titan and luna to get married or even if they are married; I will not ask them when to have kids.

many times I wondered that marriage is overrated. and the only reason to get married is not love, but to realise life is too hard to bear when you are all alone. because, however, marriage is a conditional love. hubby once said, marriage is not all fancy and glitter. the lowest it can get is, to keep functioning and it will survive. how both parties can be functional one to another, is another story.

to ariawan, a guy of mine,
the one who always wake me up from my princessy dreams. love you.



Three hours late.

2 AM and I stepped in to the house. Hubby was waiting for me. This was not the first time, and not the latest hour I had ever experienced with over time.

"See you soon Bunda. Or at 8, or at 9, or at 10, or at 11 like you said you would be late." Said my son.

I smiled as I entered the house. I smelled home. I saw my beautiful mess. As I picked up some toys on the floor, I imagined what games the kids had played today. There was a drawing, mini ceramics pots, not too chaotic for kids who were left with nini and aki without nannies.

I also saw their time tables, with some check marks on the list. Those that they weren't checked was the responsibility to wash their own dishes. I saw some dirty cups piling up. I saw the microwave's door left half-opened, a baking sheet and a knife. I wonder what they have cooked.
I also saw minecraft was in active window and some search on youtube and google.

Getting home in this hour and not seeing their faces but seeing all the mess the…

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