I'm on an unplanned holiday, as usual. After four months of struggling, my third term was finally ended on last Friday. Haven't seen my scores, though, but after all the pressure, I can only hope for nothing but the best. It's not the 'best' like 'the best in class' actually, it's more like the word 'best' in 'I am sure God knows what's best for me'. Get it?
And since it is definitely another unplanned holiday with nothing to do on my checklist, I decide to enjoy every little treatment I do to myself to get my spirit back and to make a distance from any kind of pressure, as far as it can be:
staying longer under my blanket while enjoying the pouring rain outside my window
turning the lamps off a little bit earlier, but staying up late with laptop on and browsing all night long
re-watching my favorite movies or buying the new ones if it's possible
renewing my playlist
letting the alarm ring every morning and snoozing it for 20 times
spending time with the loved ones
taking every chance to catch up with good friends
doing nothing but having stupid chats on messenger
Few days ago, just like the other days, I took the train to go home.
Well, I never recommend you to take any train on the middle of a hot sunny day. Why? I'll tell you the reasons:
1. If you're not lucky enough, no matter what train you take, the commuter one or the economy one, they both are the same. It's zuper hot inside, and you're gonna end up with sweat all over your body and your hair.
2. If you're not lucky enough, although it's already 11 am, people are unexpectedly still going to the city. The train was SO full with people, I did even think it could explode at any time. Human explosion, how cool.
So, all I heard along the way home was just.... a choir of crying children. One cried, two cried, three cried, all cried. And what happened next was just those moms who tried to calm their children down.
When the other people on the train started to feel annoyed, I started to miss every moment when the reasons to cry were as simple as hot weather, feeling hungry, or wanting a toy so bad but mom wouldn't let me buy one. And when I was done with crying, I would go playing all over again, found my mom and asked for another hug, got another hug, went playing all over again, and forgot the reason why I had cried, even forgot that I had just cried. Everything was this simple, then it all changed when I grew up.
I might be the only girl who still keeps on wondering why things should change, and why it happens a lot right at the time when I wish things would stay the same.
My friend once said,
"The only thing that doesn't change is the change itself."
Well, I guess, that's.... simply what we call the ugly truth.