It is still raining. Like a huge rain. Like I don’t know when it stops kinda rain.
This one time I realize.
I always this huge burden for myself that I, not allowing myself to enjoy life.
In fact, I created this walls. These hard walls with others. With my parents. Friends. Lovers.
I am over proud with my walls that I don’t let people come in.
And I’m afraid, that I would be lonely.
I do have my family, but they’re blood related.
I hope there’s this person that be with me just because it is me.
It is not because I dream of a perfect wedding, or an ideal lover, or great children, the idea is just being more less lonely.
You know what the funny thing is? There are three old people living in this house. My father, my mother, and the other one is me. Yes I felt like a pathetic loser that live with my parents altough it is common in my place if you’re not married yet (damn excuse). I’m like these other old person who already past my primetime while actually i didn’t have yet having any primetime. My dreams were already occured in a movie, or book, or song. And I quite content. As like other old person lives, just trying to stay alive. Sad, isn’t it?
I’m scared, I’m scared, I’m scared. I live with this obligatory exception that my struggle is my inspiration for writing. A lame excuse noting that i actually nothing much than a blogger. But this is my only anchor for my ship, the piano for taylor swift, the wendy for peter pan. I live for nothing now. I’m surviving and that’s all. Or maybe this is just the artsy bits of worry for being thirty. I don’t know.. time felt so.. fast. and rain..doesn’t stop. Where do i go next ?
I need to go back…way back into myself.