When you read the title of this entry, I’m sure you’re thinking:

“She must be writing a fantasy now!”

            Sadly, no. It sounds like a cool fantasy title, I know, but I’m talking about my own recent situation this long holiday. In details, they are actually:

1.The Great King à Dad.

            2.The Guardian à Me, when no one else is around and I happen to be the one who doesn’t ‘look busy’. (Alias, no social life, away from work at the moment, and…single. Ha, that’s how they normally define me!)

            3.The Isolated Castle à The crowded house we all live in.

            4.The Cat à Well, a grey-striped tabby with white patches on her neck, belly, and paws. Perhaps she’s a mix-breed, judging from her very soft fur. I don’t know. She belongs to the next-door neighbour; she just loves playing around and sleeping here whenever she sees an open door or a window. (Or, in this case, when I feel like letting her in – which would definitely send Ma to the roof!)

So, yeah. That’s what I’ve been through for the past few days. Some holiday, eh? Vince and his wife are in Bunaken now; Gigi’s in Semarang with Froggy…and I don’t know who else. All I know is that most of my friends have more interesting lives than I do these days.

Must I sound bitter now? Hmm, maybe not. The funny thing is, I’ve grown kind of…numb, again. I don’t know if it’s a good thing or not. All I know is that, when I don’t feel like dealing with the same old drama around me – I just lose myself in my writing. That’s it.

Ma’s been busy with Christmas catering orders. Good for her, since she needs distraction from reality as well. (Ha, don’t we all?)

I still don’t know what I’m going to do for New Year’s Eve. I’m already back to work on the 30th, which is weird. I don’t know what the management is thinking; no one’s going to turn up in classes during holiday. (Are they crazy?) I know we all need the money, but…come on. People’s got to have social lives too, or they might end up feeling bitter, stressed out, depressed, and all that jazz.

Am I depressed now? Do I sound like I need diazepam – or just a decent holiday, a break from reality? Or even both??

It’s funny how I can’t decide my own feelings. Perhaps that’s not a good sign.

Ah, who cares, right? In Indonesia, if you’re still single – people assume that you’re always available and have got nothing more important to do than those who are already married. (That’s even worse if you’re a woman, really! They expect that you’ll always be there to catch their falls, tend to their needs, and what else is being constantly dumped on you.) Talk about superiority complex there. I mean, if you decide to back off and fetch for your ‘me-time’ around them, they just love pushing you into this nonsensical ‘guilt-trip’.

            “You have no idea how busy I am and all that I have to go through!”

            Oh, really? Maybe I do, but I choose not to care way too much now. I mean, you’re the one who decided to get married and have kids, right? Well, suck it up! I know I sound mean here, but it’s too late for you to back out now. It’s been five freaking years! Deal with it. I never asked for any of this, so stop looking at me as if I’m thoughtless and selfish. I mean, if I really were selfish – then I should’ve packed up my stuff ages ago and just left all of you. Really.

Come to think of it, why not? I’ll probably get lucky and be able to do that next year. Get my own place to live in, have my own life. Earn my real, personal space I no longer get around here.

At least I’m not just lazying around doing nothing. I may not seem so busy, but I’m actually still working. Then again, what do they even care, right? Writers never get taken seriously until they start producing best-sellers.

Whatever. Sorry for ruining your holiday mood, readers.

Triana’s offered a backpacking tour to Vietnam with her. I’m not sure if I’ll have enough money for that, but I’m game. There’s also another writing workshop due next year, possibly in Bali. Good. I may extend my stay there for a week to visit T’s former roommate and (still) good friend Lady Phoenix. Or Bello, if he’d like to see me too.

This is what happens when you’re dying to get out. The bad news is, you’ve already been way too tired to try talking things over with them. To them, you’re nothing more than a complaining, selfish brat. To you, they’ve been denying the actual problem – and pretending everything’s okay…or at least manageable.




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