Migraine keeps kicking my brain nerve. I hate it. Really. Then I grab my phone. I search contact list named "Sugar". I call him. Then my migraine becomes a bit lighter. Thanks God, I don't need to see a doctor or swallow some pills.
Sorrow approaches me like number 25. I'm so restless that I can't figure out how to wash away tear. Then the "Sugar" throws me a joke. I smile a bit. But really, I'm more relieved. Thanks God, I don't need to watch Opera Van Java.
Future is so bleak. I can't see how I look like when I'm a mother of four kids. I can't spot where I belong when I am 30. I can't tell whether I'll be still buying candy floss when I've already had wrinkles on my forehead. Then he comes; bringing me a pen and a piece of paper. He sketches my dream. Then I know my future will be brighter than that shining bald head, sorry I mean than the sun; more elegant than Buckingham Palace; and of course more picturesque than my smile. Thanks God, You send me the doppelganger of hope. :)
MH
Bangbayang, October 15, 2012, 06.45 p.m.
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