Soft Time Vs. Hard Time [part TWO]
[continued]
I, finally, did explain how I committed suicide, which in the beginning I didn’t mean to. I didn’t want ‘boasting’ my story, or should I say selling my story, so that everyone would feel sorry, or maybe paying attention to me. I just wanted to share, that’s all!
Now, I would start continuing my story.
1999-2002
I survived!
Praise the Lord!
It was a tough time, indeed. There was a time when I was always so petrified in the morning, before going to school, questioning myself, would there anyone talk to me today? Would there anyone make fun of me? Would the still talk about me behind my back?
Even on Sunday, at church, I sometimes asked whether there was any purpose for me attending the meeting at the church, meeting friends there.
In the end, I had a bad syndrome, not-trusting-anyone-isme. No one could ensure me with what s/he was talking about. If they talked, told me something, I would nod, I would say yes, but I wouldn’t trust any of words one’s saying.
How about Friends? I hardly believed in ones. I had just-friends friends, but no best friends. Even my past-best-friends had to be diminished to be just-friends friends, exception for one in Australia.
Second grade high school.
I was late coming to my new class. I wasn’t indeed enthusiast at all. I’d known my classmates long before anyone else knew – I sat in school organization (OSIS). All of my new classmates were genius, ones who wouldn’t need to study to get high grades. Besides, the worst nightmare ever, was, one of the ‘cool guys’, even ‘the leader’, would be my classmates. Some of the ‘cool guys’ girls’ would be, too.
No Way!
I groaned, again, to God, Why did You do it to me?
When I came to the class, right before the first lesson began. The only seat I fancied were on the back, far from genius students, far from ‘cool people’, ALONE. I didn’t pay attention to anyone. Suddenly, one tall guy came, even later than me, kind of running towards me. IT WAS HIM! One of the ‘cool guys’ from my first grade. Badly, the only free seat was next to me, or he had to sit in front of teacher’s desk.
He chose to sit next to me.
Yet, I saw his face, disliked sitting next to me, but he had to.
I didn’t like either.
I could tell you this story specifically; because I remember every single day I spent with him sitting next to me. I hated going to school, I was even asking my teacher to be transferred to other class. Unfortunately, he couldn’t.
I said to my mom I would stop going to school; I would like to go to other school.
She didn’t allow me.
Everything was disastrous.
It was in the beginning.
Yet, I will bore you if I tell you every single moaning-groaning day I had that time. I would now prefer to quicken my story.
He had problems with his girlfriend. Yes, he, a tall guy, a member of ‘cool guys’ association. Let’s name him Rob. I overheard his conversation with his mates. He was so pissed off. He grumbled all the times, didn’t concentrate on the lessons, finally, I asked him what’s wrong with him. Surprisingly, he told me the whole story.
Seriously, I didn’t expect!
I reckoned it was because he had too much, he felt terribly bad.
I listened his story, patiently; I tried to calm him down –telling him what he supposed to do.
Since then, he became a good friend. He lived really close to my house, thus, he came regularly to my house. In the beginning, he just borrowed books, homework, asked me to help him with his projects, until he started to be my patient, love patient. He asked me when he felt in love with someone, shared his problems, and in the end, we became really good friends.
It was a long story, especially our friendship influenced others, too. In the end, we had 10 friends –close friends that supported each other. We spent our break together; we went out once a week –eating out, watching movie. Just for your information, Mr. Weirdo, was, first, just a friend, one of the ten-friends. Ah, it’s a wonderful story, I would share another time about Mr. Weirdo and I.
Third Grades,.. the last grades,..
School was okay. Love was great, I had a relationship with Mr. Weirdo.
I was about to skip telling you about this period, but I remembered, two big things happened in this period.
First, my cyst came, as a surprising present in my ovary. What a nightmare! I’ve written about it before, just read in Flash Back 2001.
Second, in the end of my third grade, I had a huge problem with church.
I couldn’t tell specifically about it, but it made a big change in my life –radical change.
As you’ve read above, I’d had problems with church a couple times before. In some ways, I didn’t have similar thoughts as some church-people had. It might be that I was wrong, or vice versa.
There was one moment, when I was really hurt. I couldn’t forgive them –people who spoiled me. Seriously, it was the time when I said to God, as follows:
“God, I hate my church. I don’t want to go there anymore. I don’t want to go to GKI anymore (GKI is an Indonesian church – kind of reform/methodic church)”
Even worse I said also:
“God, I would never get involved with church organization anymore. If I go to church, I just want to be part of the congregation, not more than that!”
As I said that, I seriously stopped going to my church, and moved to Mr. Weirod’s church. It was just a couple months before I went to the Netherlands.
2002- Current
Next time in myblog:
- Typhus before my departure to the Netherlands
- Fighting in my first residence
- Long distance – it used to be disastrous
- My first romantic summer
I, finally, did explain how I committed suicide, which in the beginning I didn’t mean to. I didn’t want ‘boasting’ my story, or should I say selling my story, so that everyone would feel sorry, or maybe paying attention to me. I just wanted to share, that’s all!
Now, I would start continuing my story.
1999-2002
I survived!
Praise the Lord!
It was a tough time, indeed. There was a time when I was always so petrified in the morning, before going to school, questioning myself, would there anyone talk to me today? Would there anyone make fun of me? Would the still talk about me behind my back?
Even on Sunday, at church, I sometimes asked whether there was any purpose for me attending the meeting at the church, meeting friends there.
In the end, I had a bad syndrome, not-trusting-anyone-isme. No one could ensure me with what s/he was talking about. If they talked, told me something, I would nod, I would say yes, but I wouldn’t trust any of words one’s saying.
How about Friends? I hardly believed in ones. I had just-friends friends, but no best friends. Even my past-best-friends had to be diminished to be just-friends friends, exception for one in Australia.
Second grade high school.
I was late coming to my new class. I wasn’t indeed enthusiast at all. I’d known my classmates long before anyone else knew – I sat in school organization (OSIS). All of my new classmates were genius, ones who wouldn’t need to study to get high grades. Besides, the worst nightmare ever, was, one of the ‘cool guys’, even ‘the leader’, would be my classmates. Some of the ‘cool guys’ girls’ would be, too.
No Way!
I groaned, again, to God, Why did You do it to me?
When I came to the class, right before the first lesson began. The only seat I fancied were on the back, far from genius students, far from ‘cool people’, ALONE. I didn’t pay attention to anyone. Suddenly, one tall guy came, even later than me, kind of running towards me. IT WAS HIM! One of the ‘cool guys’ from my first grade. Badly, the only free seat was next to me, or he had to sit in front of teacher’s desk.
He chose to sit next to me.
Yet, I saw his face, disliked sitting next to me, but he had to.
I didn’t like either.
I could tell you this story specifically; because I remember every single day I spent with him sitting next to me. I hated going to school, I was even asking my teacher to be transferred to other class. Unfortunately, he couldn’t.
I said to my mom I would stop going to school; I would like to go to other school.
She didn’t allow me.
Everything was disastrous.
It was in the beginning.
Yet, I will bore you if I tell you every single moaning-groaning day I had that time. I would now prefer to quicken my story.
He had problems with his girlfriend. Yes, he, a tall guy, a member of ‘cool guys’ association. Let’s name him Rob. I overheard his conversation with his mates. He was so pissed off. He grumbled all the times, didn’t concentrate on the lessons, finally, I asked him what’s wrong with him. Surprisingly, he told me the whole story.
Seriously, I didn’t expect!
I reckoned it was because he had too much, he felt terribly bad.
I listened his story, patiently; I tried to calm him down –telling him what he supposed to do.
Since then, he became a good friend. He lived really close to my house, thus, he came regularly to my house. In the beginning, he just borrowed books, homework, asked me to help him with his projects, until he started to be my patient, love patient. He asked me when he felt in love with someone, shared his problems, and in the end, we became really good friends.
It was a long story, especially our friendship influenced others, too. In the end, we had 10 friends –close friends that supported each other. We spent our break together; we went out once a week –eating out, watching movie. Just for your information, Mr. Weirdo, was, first, just a friend, one of the ten-friends. Ah, it’s a wonderful story, I would share another time about Mr. Weirdo and I.
Third Grades,.. the last grades,..
School was okay. Love was great, I had a relationship with Mr. Weirdo.
I was about to skip telling you about this period, but I remembered, two big things happened in this period.
First, my cyst came, as a surprising present in my ovary. What a nightmare! I’ve written about it before, just read in Flash Back 2001.
Second, in the end of my third grade, I had a huge problem with church.
I couldn’t tell specifically about it, but it made a big change in my life –radical change.
As you’ve read above, I’d had problems with church a couple times before. In some ways, I didn’t have similar thoughts as some church-people had. It might be that I was wrong, or vice versa.
There was one moment, when I was really hurt. I couldn’t forgive them –people who spoiled me. Seriously, it was the time when I said to God, as follows:
“God, I hate my church. I don’t want to go there anymore. I don’t want to go to GKI anymore (GKI is an Indonesian church – kind of reform/methodic church)”
Even worse I said also:
“God, I would never get involved with church organization anymore. If I go to church, I just want to be part of the congregation, not more than that!”
As I said that, I seriously stopped going to my church, and moved to Mr. Weirod’s church. It was just a couple months before I went to the Netherlands.
2002- Current
Next time in myblog:
- Typhus before my departure to the Netherlands
- Fighting in my first residence
- Long distance – it used to be disastrous
- My first romantic summer
posted by Oma Nia at
3:12 AM
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