The rain poured and I was on the passenger seat, half of my t-shirt was wet, mainly on the right shoulder and sleeve. I had every sense to be grumpy but I wasn't. I was pondering, instead. The slow, wobbly shake of the vehicle, the AC and the view outside took me somewhere far, a time travel. There wasn't any specific event, yet I was someone else, I was that girl who was mostly on her feet or buses. If she was in a car in Jakarta, most likely it was her rich aunts or cousins, and that moment I thought
I don't know where I'm going to but finally I'm out of my tiny boarding room and I'll rest my body in a nice bed in a decent room.
Unlike now, I was patient. I won't lay my hand on my cigarette if they don't know or like to see me smoking. I would be the most pleasant guest, as long as for one night I can experience comfort. By then, I would call it luxury.
There could be many random things that act like a teleport button to that version of self. One of them, is hunger. I was so poor I ate once a day. In campus when someone was concerned because I looked so pale I just told them I was hungry. No one offered me foods.
I committed to save petite money in a Pringles can, to take myself out once in a (long) while.
Looking at that 19 year old girl, I feel ashamed and proud at the same time that now I can take myself out every single day I want. The romance in going out vanishes bit by bit. When there's no struggle, romance ends.
Struggle was a luxury not everyone had the privilege to experience.
I remember wanting to be seen deeper, but men were nice to me because of my face. Nobody cared enough to ask about my favorite poet. Now I understand that it is how it's going to be. Pretty does not give you everything. It sure gives you hungry wolves, and jealous bitches. I forgot this so it's nice to remember it now. I still want to be pretty but it is what it is, it stops at admiration and jealousy.
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