I’m not allowed to cry. Never have, never will. However sucks the change is, I’ve always been demanded to be strong.

No matter how it cracks me to the bone.

All these three things happened in the first 1,25 months of 2013. I wonder where this will lead me. I hope it’s something worth awaiting. I hope it’s for the greater good.

But I’ll never know what’s in store for me. It’s either I face it or not doing anything at all. Because I can’t just run away and pretend that all these things don’t happen, that they’re just in my imaginary bubbles of nightmares.

This is real life and it sucks. The un-flush-able shit happens, but there’s no more turning back. And what’s more terrifying is that I don’t know if this stream of mischance will end in the right way, or in the right time span, or just barely end.

This is why Five For Fighting’s Superman is my all-time favorite song.

I can’t stand to fly
I’m not that naive
I’m just out to find
The better part of me
I’m more than a bird,
I’m more than a plane
I’m more than some pretty face beside a train
And it’s not easy to be me

Wish that I could cry
Fall upon my knees
Find a way to lie
About a home I’ll never see

It may sound absurd, but don’t be naive
Even heroes have the right to bleed
I may be disturbed but won’t you concede
Even heroes have the right to dream
And it’s not easy to be me

Grow up, people say. Because a part of growing up is also to accept that we can never be impervious to change. Not growing up is never a choice. And this time, I have to re-iterate what my debate coaches have stressed upon me almost 5 years ago:

You’re acting like a spoiled little brat. Don’t be a self-centered kid.

You can’t expect the world to wait for you. It’s YOU who should catch up with the world.

So wake up, I say. You’re not living under the protective shed of home. Either you break your wings or learn to fly.

Author: mfaradina

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

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