I had the longest sleep I had for months. And I’m thankful. *sigh*
After I got a professional license, I said to myself “meh”. I don’t know why, but it felt like it’s not a big deal. And before that, I’m looking for jobs and had interviews lined up for me. Then I passed and cancel all those interviews. Pretty stupid move eh? Yea, I’m pretty stupid.
The following months, I heard my batch mates have their jobs and having their first salary. And I’m envious, they’re so mature with their working hours and al in between a grown up is doing. But as they work, I’m working also. I know most of them think I’m doing nothing but enjoy the months willed by me, by not finding a job. Well they are wrong.
The difference between their job and what I was doing is the salary, I have none, I think my only salary is that happiness that I give myself whenever I finished and polished a chapter. Yes, I’d been doing my book. I thought of artworks and such to correspond in each every chapter. I’m checking the flow of the paragraphs and finding the best way to deliver the very first sentence “the hook” in writer’s terms.
It sounds weird, but I’m happy being solitary and doing just that.
Mind you, I do well with other people, yes sometimes I’m weird but it’s a healthy weirdness. Anyway, the following months my batch mates were going to beaches, enjoying, partying (oh, they posted that to facebook) while I imprison myself inside my room thinking how a sentence would be beautiful without overflowing it with unnecessary words. Even after graduation, I worked with my book with a small expectation of success and a great unhealthy hope that I’m curing myself as we speak. Do you know what my parents gave me when I graduated? Three days stay in a five star hotel (I’m thankful, greatly, but I don’t think that necessary) $100, and a kindle fire (which I got next year after). And that the greatest present my parents had given to me. Especially the kindle fire, because it felt like destiny that my dad didn’t buy the iPad 2 because it’s far expensive. With the kindle fire, I can see what my book will actually looks like in the eyes of the reader.
So what’s the point here?
I think, dream, that’s the point here. I’m thankful I have a dream, a dream that I want to be given to anyone after my life. A legacy. A dream that worth fighting for. I don’t dream of fame, I dream of people fascinated about the strings of moments that is in a book that I have made. Bucause my dream life would be probably a home comfortable enough (I don’t like big houses), an owned library in a small town which I would go to everyday, a dog named Cornilious, a family that I will love unconditionally, and to write. There’s something greater joy than having parties ever Friday, having friends that really don’t know you. I have four friends that respect me and know me (which I have less contact with). I love that life (the first one), and I’m going to do it, but now, I have to find a day job first :D