A Post With Lots of Rant and Exaggeration

I LOST MY SMARTPHONE ON THE BUS THIS MORNING
@!*&^%$#@)*_^*+
And when my friend contacted my number around 15 minutes after we got off from the bus, my phone was already turned off.
And Oh. My. Goodness.
I CAN'T BELIEVE I LOST ALL THE MEMOS INSIDE WHICH ARE FAR WORTHIER THAN THE PHONE VALUE ITSELF.
My novel script's revision notes, ideas scribbles, 4 fics i'm about to do.
OGODTHISHURTSSOBAD /FANNINGMASELF
I have this habit to store everything that popped up in my head -especially random ideas- into my smartphone, rather than directly type it on pc -i never save any of my ideas list on pc anyway-. Because it's more effective and easier to do that way.
So....
I'M SO MAD AT MYSELF ACTUALLY FOR LOSING THEM MY PRECIOUS WORKS, AND I JUST HAVE A BACKUP OF ONE FIC MENTIONED ABOVE WHY AM I SO DUMB /FANNINGMASELFAGAIN

Burn in hell Bless your souls, dear thieves.

ps : Pardon me, I'm still in haze

Lost

I'm losing myself.

And somehow, my reason to live for.

Life's no longer providing it's excitement for me.

Day's no longer promising it's unexpected path of journey for me.

I miss school times.

I miss writing in the middle of math or Indonesian class. Scribbling notes in the corner of my text book.

I miss going to school's library, scrutinizing the shelves to pull out a book and the smile i'll plaster on my face as I anticipate the other universe I'm about to enter.

I miss getting back home in the afternoon. Spacing out, trying to catch the inspiration outside that knocks my ride's window.

I miss hanging out after school with my girls.

I miss organizing school's annual event.

I miss Mrs. Sri's punishment.

I'm tired of working my arse out for something i don't like. Forty hours per week.

I'm tired of people judging writing is not a REAL job.

I'm tired that somehow life needs money too much and we're slaving for it.

I'm tired.

Can't i get my life back ?

Sheepman, Dark Hallway and A Piece of Neil Gaiman

I woke up from a very strange dream this morning. Dunno whether it had something to do with the Haruki Murakami's Dance Dance Dance that I just read the dawn before or not.
But the dream found me trapped in parallel dimensions and several alternate realities. (Which is not related with DDD at all ? I don't think DDD is sci-fi..)
Like what, I jumped into one reality wherein the current date were 70th august 2030, really ? I even asked my maybe-not-so-real mom "70th ? August ?" And she (it?) answered "Yes,"
And I was kind of struggling in my dream (or my sleep or my.... whatever) to find the real dimension which I belonged in (read : the same dimension where you read this post yeah) and voilà, with so much difficulty *coughexaggerationcough* to open my eyelids or maybe logically, i was just too lazy to wake up, I finally managed to get up in a daze, before muttering "What the hell," then reached for my phone and typed this post on my note before I posted it here at 10:06 today (and then you read it).
So yeah, blame it on the sheepman, and the dark hallway on the 16th floor, and a piece of Neil Gaiman (and Michael Reaves and their Interworld books and the Janices in the other AUs who decided to show me that they exist.
Who knows ?)