You know what’s ironic? Being treated as tourist in your own hometown. I had been living in Lawang – Malang for seventeen years before I moved to Jakarta for college. I always thought that the reality is there in Lawang. And like a fanatic religious believer, I thought that Jakarta is a mere dream. Everything that did in Jakarta was supposed to be for future living in Lawang.
Until I treated like a tourist in my hometown. Until I realized my home is not my home anymore and my room is a museum of past me. Until I wasn’t expect my hometown as before anymore, only the warmth of my family. Until I believe home is not a place, it is wherever I feel comfortable.

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Read. Train. Write. Repeat.

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