So here I am again, wakeful. I have been thinking about something lately, which is the reason why I am wide-awake every night.
Before, I was sitting in front of my laptop, my fingers rested on every letter. I wanted to write. I wanted to create just one brilliant story. But I couldn’t. I didn’t make any sense. My head was filled. What filled my head I did not know. The fear of writing again was the interruption. Once I hold a pen in my right hand and blankly stare at blank pages, I become intimidated. I am afraid that when I start writing I would discover that I do not have anything to write. Again, I did not make sense. It is funny to see that I write under circumstances like these. When I am not forced or where I am not surrounded by eventful activities or in this case, when I have nothing to write at all.
But in fact, I keep on writing and writing, shaping one word after one word, figuring what story I would come up with at the end. Nothing. Yet.
It’s actually not that I don’t have anything to write. Instead, it's actually because I have become excess with enormous quantity of words which now conquering my peanut-sized brain so I couldn’t write anything properly in this sheet at this very moment. But I guess I will force my brain to work pretty harder so I could write anything I should write down here.
Oh man. I don’t even know if my grammar is practically correct or not.
Have I triggered a pain inside your head?
Well, here. I have two major things bothering my mind quite a lot these days. First, it’s about my departure to Yogyakarta in only 4 days ahead. Why does it bother me? Because, first, the circumstance will force me to live alone in there, in my dormitory. While me, ever since I born, never actually living alone without my parents by my side. And leaving my parents that way is kind of making me frustrated. Moreover the Ramadhan month is coming even closer! I can’t cook! I can’t wake up early in the middle of the night to eat sahur! I can’t control my life the way my mom used to control it to me! I would just mess it up and my Ramadhan month would be pretty sucks. I don’t have any idea how to manage myself during the coming up living-alone life.
Okay. I have elaborated it quite structured, haven’t I? At least I've made you catch up my point, no? Err... Whatever.
Second thing, it’s about my idiot love flick! I got two major stories of all. First off, something about my “best crush” which I lately reveal pretty much obvious in Tumblr. But soooo sorry I wouldn’t share you guys the url up here. It’s way too private. Second off, something about my “best brother” which I had written in Tumblr pretty much clear—and long—as well. So, I won’t spend more time talking about the two of it in here.
See? This is nonsense. Then why in the world you start to write, Put? I do not know.
Ah… These eyes have got blurred. My head aches but I don’t feel sleepy at all. I guess I will be wide-awake for the rest of the night... But the post is quite long enough so I will just post it on and….
Poof. I’m gone.
Honey, I've told you. This is just another piece of crap and I didn't make any sense. Why did you start reading?
