This morning, i woke up from a deep sleep as soon as i heard Britney Spear's song sang through my mobile phone. I grabbed my warm , comfy duvet in my balled fists and pushed them to the side reluctantly even though i desired to cuddle a little more in it, as i rouse from my bed side and plant my feet firmly on the ground. Its not the desire that drove me to rise and dress up, but my will that come with rage and unwillingness. Every single day, except weekends, i go through this again and again repeatedly out of rage with my mind lost in thoughts of hate.

I paced myself toward the shower and grabbed my toothbrush -angrily before hastily reap some clothes from the closet, heading down the stairs. As i opened the refrigrator, i took the milkbox out of it and poured them in the glass. Good, i have just start my day - so far. But its getting mundane and much boring than i would expect it to be, as days goes by. Its always the same things, same noise i listened to - same tapping sounds i make when i walked. I hope my day could be any different in a good way. I am tired handling all the stresses i had to deal with all over again and again to meet people's commitment. There's always, always a test to pass and there's always always homework to finish by the end of the day. Why my life could posibbly tiring? When i was younger, as far as i remember it used to be undeniably fun!
I hope i could decide not to move on , hoping i could have stayed in my bed as long as i want to but i had commitment toward myself, my education, my parents , my siblings and almost everyone around me. Nobody like his or herself to be bound in a major devastation, nor did i. In fact, sometimes i could vividly imagine myself drown amongst rage. Rage that born out of bounded desire and stunted dreams that loomed before us. Rage that blooms like a poisonous ivy's vines. Rage that exists due to the gasping air we are forced to breathe in, out of solemn injustice.

Why does this life could be so much torturing. I hate almost everything in my life. My dress, my appearance , my relationship with most peoples and the situation i am living in. I don't have enough money and i hate that i can't provide myself a driving license. Why did i have to babysit my siblings when they could take care of themselves? I hate the chicken and lamb menus for every weekday and i hate dine out at restaurant nearby, the foods served there were sucks, why don't we help ourselves at the fancy restaurant at the plazza instead? I hate being told to do my homework before i did. I hate that i couldn't pass my test and that i had to face endless admonition from those elders. The piano and dancing lesson i had to attend every weekend were mundane. Could i change them all? I am angry, at everything. At things i am and things i wasn't.

Where are those angels offering me solace?

Where are justice that appeared to be so fair at first sigh?

But now, eventually i began to realize about everything.

I resent at myself not for my inability to score the highest marks out of the highest people like me could possibly achieve. I resent at myself not because i am detested for who i am not. I am coined, cutted into every replicated shapes people like you and me desired and i am resent at myself for being selfish - for not taking other's perishes into my consideration.

At some places in Africa, childrens , newborns and young ones are dying because they are surviving the hunger crisis. They haven't got enough food and they are living in poverty. In some places at Middle East, there are wars, filled in with grenades and flinging bullets where childrens cried in the middle of the havoc. They are too scared to leave their home that serve as a prison they called shelter. How could they still smiled when they had barely chance to survive? How could they be so brave?

How could i whim here, now and then? I saw them - teens like me , sometimes even younger than me helding brutal weapons with their own hands, facing their own death. In some countries where poverties are as much concern and education are non-persistence, where could they - childrens and teens whom deserve a better future through education rights work as a manual labour? Why this happen? Whom is responsible for it? Why some girls are denied to their education rights and why were young boys abandoned on streets? Why were they suffering when i am living in a life they could only dreamt of? Most importantly, how could i be so selfish? I wished, all of those were nothing but made up dramas, but they are not. They are real, they are happening all around and i was too ignorance to be aware about them. I am grateful for having chance to have educations and i am grateful that i can actually live in peacefulness without having to bothering those flying bullets and shocking noise of bombs. I am happy that i could enjoy the dinner with my love ones at the table every night regardless of the menus. I am finally liberated to be aware toward a better perspective of lives. And now, maybe i could have been offering more solace whenever my mobile phone wake me up every day to start up my day. There's no more need to groan out of my rage. All i need is to be grateful, the missing part I lost in my earlier life , the missing puzzle in my that slammed my head so hard that it gave me an amnesia. Now i had discovered it again, this morning. I knew this morning it would be amazing, i had this great feeling about it.