How I See Myself These Past Few Days

I see myself as, again, a failed lover. A love beggar with a sense of indescribable pride. I see myself as an increasingly alarmed twentysomething. I begin to love working. Keeping myself busy is the only way to be sane. And I’m so into 8tracks. Oh and by the way, I kinda miss your goofy text messages, but whatever. If you really like me, you’ll fight for me. That’s just what I believe.

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[All sentences are intentionally written in present tense. You know why?]

I see myself as, again, a failed lover. A love beggar with a sense of indescribable pride. I watch my security system breaks apart and install them again within two or three weeks. I shake my head at this most quick-fix, strangest tunes in between loving, liking, and hating. Never had I experienced, let again recovered, from this kind of milivolt sting. It’s like I’ve been prepared for all the predictable shortcomings. I’m absolutely single and ready to mingle.

I see myself as an increasingly alarmed twentysomething. I can totally relate myself to the articles in Thought Catalog. I constantly wander off in midnight monologue, trying to figure out where my life should be directed.

I begin to love working. Keeping myself busy is the only way to be sane. I pathetically love the heavy loads and everyday meetings and the long stare at my laptop screen. I still miss Aila, but my Pegasus works very well with its polished silver look, crystal clear sound (hello Bang & Olufsen ICEpower!), and power saving wonders. Anyone can give me projects now. I need projects, presentations, trainings, meetings….yes, give it all to me! I know I’ve become a helpless workaholic.

And I’m so into 8tracks. Handcrafted online radio. Perfect. It’s this time of the month when my mouth won’t stop munching and my mood won’t stop swinging.

Oh and by the way, I kinda miss your goofy text messages, but whatever. If you really like me, you’ll fight for me. That’s just what I believe. But if you don’t, that’s very well okay. I’ve got used to moving on anyway, we can still be great friends and nothing will ever change. I promise.

Author: mfaradina

An Indonesian. A reliable realist outside yet a romantic dreamer at heart.

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