Hikayat Sang Pemberontak

It was hard to be me. Why me again by the way? It’s my blog. So it’ll all about me, me, and me. Okay, let’s talk about me again, in English and Indonesian. Ini tentang jati diri dan citra diri. Apa jati diriku? Entahlah. A son, a brother, a husband, a father, and a muslim. There are too much for me, to be honest. Apa citra diriku? I used to think my self as a rebel, a punk, even as “sampah masyarakat” or “kotoran rakyat” when my mind was blackened. Aku masih ingat pernah tanya (entah ke siapa) tentang arti “hidup” dan “kehidupan”. It was a deep questions. But life is a school of hard knocks. Free to do mistakes but clean up your mess and get your shyt straight. Don’t be a cry baby. Be a better person or just kill yourself. Dan alhamdulillah aku masih hidup sampai sekarang. Berapa banyak air mata yang tertumpah untukku? A lot! Berapa banyak rasa sakit yang tergores karena perilakuku? A lot! Berapa banyak rasa malu yang menghantam karena tingkah lakuku? A lot! Tapi sekali lagi pilihannya cuma 2: change your shytty personality or do the justice to the world and commit suicide. Setan ingin aku mati. Tapi Alloh ta’ala ingin aku tetap hidup. I believe I’m here for something. I can do something to the world. They need me. They need a better me. They don’t need a perfect me. Hell o world, let’s be friend.

(I’m not that suicidal btw).

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