look at me, see the real me, say that i'm different, say that i am special.
those phrases keep looping in my mind since..i can't remember since when. it's been too long.
when i was admitted to playgroup, i entered the 1 year-older's because i was too obsessed with the idea of 'going to school' when my age hadn't enough yet. there, i have a friend..he is my 'first silly love', you know, person whom you shared a moment of 'he is my husband/ she is my wife' when you were a kid. he is my ma's friend's son and i often spent times with him playing at my home. i demanded the same attention from him when we went to school and kept asking him to play with me. but his friend didn't like me, so his friend and i often involved in fight.
when i entered kindergarten, i want the teachers to notice me. it's not like i wasn't noticeable or too gloomy to be seen, but i want to be teacher's pet, unfortunately no matter how hard i struggled, i've never been 'the one'. i got striking pain when theirs did something bad to me and did nothing. i think they thought me an annoying kid who loves to say bad things about his/her friends.
i spent the latter times with struggle and fight to make people see me. and all i've got was early realization of the world. the world is fake, we all know that. everyone's gonna have to take a mask or two and if you want to be recognized, if you want people to appreciate you, you must start it with a mask. mask...in other words (in harsh words) just lick it! can you imagine that thought came to a girl in early elementary school age? that's devastating. when all i want is fairy tales and a little bit of spotlight, i got the 'hidden message'. i try my best while trying with all my might not to go to far, to keep real, to be a good person like my ma wants me to.
then i failed. i lost in my journey.
still in my elementary school time, i used to join the language competitions (this i meant bahasa indonesia) and won the prizes, something that makes me smile up until now. i loves reading, i loves writing. writing (poem, because i couldn't write short story without make people get confused) used to be my escape when i'm too stressed out. i said 'used to be' because i'm no longer posses same passion. when i was little girl i believed that someday i'm gonna have my own book and people will like it, they're gonna praise it and i'll be famous for it. i, innocently, was trying to send a copy or two of my poem (i wrote them in books, so it's quite organized) via e-mail to many poem book publishers, i was proudly boasting to my best friend that i'm going to be a well-known writer because i was too sure of myself. some of them replied and said to me politely that they're not interested, some of them gave me nothing.
it broke my heart and i felt so ashamed. so i stopped to hope, i wrote for myself, i was writing less and less.
i was trying to be a president of my junior high student council, each year i applied for it and each year i failed to make it come true. my second year there (the first year student is not allowed to apply), i know many of them didn't believe in me, especially the seniors. up until now i can't understand why they decided not to like me after they looked at me. the third year, i got laughed by same year friends. i deserved it. i didn't learn. i thought if they saw i had lots of achievement, they would choose me. i was totally wrong. they said i was a snob, they said it's so funny to look that i even wrote down that i'd been a winner in swimming competition when i was 6. the fact that the spotlight taken by my boyfriend that time eased my pain, a little.
my senior high was gave me a little satisfaction and regret. true that i've been the most well-known sci-class student among my friends (i don't claim for it, okay, it's written in my school yearbook), but sadly i spent too much time trying to be noticeable by everyone and neglected the need to have my 'circle'. when we went to university, everybody held meet-ups with their own circles and left me alone.
i'm in university, i tried to do my best without too much masks, without too much everything in 2.5 years. now it's my third year, i hope i can change. i hope i'll be noticeable for who i am. that somehow finally someone realize the gift i have (that i, myself, can't imagine one right now. pathetic).
too dreamy, eh? yeah, it sounds too dreamy for me too. too far away from reality. haha..i'm a realist who's trying so hard to claim and to believe herself as a dreamer. how bad is that? irony smells awfully sweet, don't you agree? maybe it's because i have too much affairs with books. they're my drugs, my escapes.
P.S: this is one of the posts i promised to write about.
P.S.S : i'm not whining, i just try to be honest.
lauretta.
