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Mimpi Dulu — Bangun Sekarang




Yeah, I'm gonna bail out on writing this piece in bahasa, because to be honest, it feels harder to strip myself down using the language which hits way too close to home. I'm just gonna let the title be, though.

As a talentless kid, I always wonder why don't I have any special skill like the other kids my age. I picked up my small orji and started to scramble my thoughts out on how talentless I am; how my mom never register me to any courses about arts, or anything other than school. I couldn't simply talk about these things to my friends because I might be outspoken about what's in my mind, but never what's in my heart. Writing it out instead made me feel safe — until I found out that my mother secretly read my diary but never acknowledge it anyway. Back to the topic, my writing started out about not having any talent at all and sometimes I'd write about my days, my feelings, and my dreams — yes, I have a thing with dreams since I was a little girl. Somehow I found my safe haven in line of words I wrote and I started to buy more diary books. 

Growing up I feel like I have more things to say but not enough courage to let it out. I discovered poetry and how amazing it is to write it. Simply because I can hide many things behind it so that I can feel safer to share it on the internet. At the back of my heart I realise that I might not have any talent at all, but I know that I love writing. It helps me a lot during my adolescent year; by writing it out I can understand way more about my tangled thoughts, I can let out my feelings without worrying, I can channel my anger and sadness without trying to hurt the other person. Little Adist knew that she had a bigger demon that she herself couldn't keep inside — aren't we all? — and she had bigger dreams than the ones she had every night. What would I become one day, she thought. 

At first, she wants to be a writer; providing the story of the world she only had in her mind. Wanting nothing more than to make it as reality by crafting it into hundred pages, building a love story she never had the courage to have. Blinded by all romantic novels she read and romantic movies she watched growing up, she only have the nerve to write simple childish poems and secretly posted it on her old tumblr site. I still have many years to come, she thought. 

But then the second reality comes kicked in, she graduated into this new perspective of life that is more into the real world where she needs other things than dream. She needs security, she needs money, she needs safety. She tried her hardest to find her way; struggling, bleeding; setting aside what she had in mind. I have to make it, I have to succeed, she said. 

"Adulting is a soup and I'm a fork," she once read somewhere on the internet. No matter how hard she laughed at it, she knew that it's actually the best line of phrase to describe what she feels. It's not that she's not grateful of her life path, though, she became a copywriter in this big e-commerce which most people want to work in, and yet she couldn't help to think that is it really what she wants? Everything she had after finishing college is more because of luck. Is it the time where I run out of luck? oh God no please, she mumbled. 

Her morning started with a lazy yawn, a nice pet for her cat, a glass of coffee, and a long day of being stressed out — a long night also, most of the time. She rarely socializing anymore, she barely eating without being called to get out of her room for a minute or two. While listening to her favorite playlist during working hours, she keeps thinking about the poem she had in mind and want to write after clocking off, and yet she never got the time to. Is this really what life is all about, she thought loudly. All of her fires started to burn herself out from the inside. 

She was torn in between the little girl with a big dream and the reality she lives in; between the question about passion and security; between creativity and safety; between being grateful and wanting more. And now, Radistya is being stuck on unfinished train of thoughts regarding all of it. She realised that no matter how long she dreams at night, she needs to be awake for the day. I just have to try in the meantime, until I can find a place where my dream and reality collides, she concluded. 

One day she will, I believe. Let's just keep this faith going.
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