The world is unfair
Well, I never believed in that line ever since. I never thought that the world is unfair, because every person would say that and that makes that world fair — for being fairly unfair. Maybe that time I wasn’t able to see the world in reality, that I wasn’t able to grasp it “worldly”, that maybe I am this one innocent girl who just wander around and walk through every patio without seeing deeply in the thoughts and hearts of every person I bump into.
The world isn’t unfair.
That was me before. That was me when I am always overwhelmed by my happiness and never thought that maybe in my left side, there’s someone who asked himself “Why that girl smiles and laughs, while me have to be in this excruciating sadness?”.
That was me when I am able to stroll the city and waste time and effort while others hopes for the time to stop for awhile to be able to cope up with deadlines.
That was me when I was able to eat dozens of doughnuts and liters of ice cream and nevermind if there’s somebody who is in agony of toothache or this little girl in the street who just looks at the tarpaulin of the ads and contains herself in imagining she was holding a cone of a rocky road flavored ice cream.
That was me when my family is still complete and I am able to call them and ask them any favors that I want even if I can manage on my own, not realizing that some orphan is happy with his mother/father/sister/brother.
That was me when I thought my world is perfect yet not knowing that thinking it is perfect makes it imperfect.
You may think that this article seems so rebellious or sounds opposite to what I am supposed to write or shall I say — to what I am supposed to write right. But, no.