I miss home

I want to watch cheap Indonesian TV, with nothing else to do but finish a plate of cheesecake. I want to wait for Dad to come home, battling mosquitos in the living room. Or read an Indonesian romance novel in my room with angled ceiling, blue walls and cold AC setting. I want to drive in Jakarta's crazy streets and have my driver being nervous to crazy beside me, his hand on the parking break in case my (dad's) car decided to hit another wall.

I want to listen to my brother practicing guitar and bragging about his growing muscles. I want to go shopping and worry about how much I weigh.

I have my theater class, international development class, I am on track to go to medical schools, I am having access to the world's cutting-edge biology research, I am living my dream in here...

But I envy people who are in Indonesia now, close to their family. I feel like I am in my dream, but I am not quite alive because I'm in a dream.

I have the ability to stop dreaming and start living. My life is mine to decide. I won't be silly and stay in my own prison of achievements. I don't need to live in a shiny diamond castle. I want to be home and be with people that matters the most.

I am done ranting.