It was already 07:30 and I had just arrived on campus. Because my lecturer is very strict with discipline and does not tolerate anyone who is late for class. So I quickly opened my helmet and ran up to the class. Fortunately, I'm not late, so I'm grateful that God is still helping me. Shortly after class, my lecturer arrived and the lecture began. As time passed, the first, second, third, and last classes were finished. The sky had already turned orange color caused by the spread of sunlight when light interacts with the earth's atmosphere. This indicated that it was getting dark, I had to go home immediately because my mother was looking for me.
I arrived home, and was immediately greeted with the fragrance of mom's homemade meatballs. Without lingering for a long time because my stomach was rumbling, I immediately ate the meatballs that my mother had provided. Without realizing it, 2 bowls of meatballs were finished because meatballs are one of my favorite foods. After I finished eating, I helped my mother clean up the dining table and didn't forget to wash the dishes that had been used earlier. I'm going up, mom After the stomach and kitchen affairs were finished, I went straight up to my room to take a shower and pray.
Night fell, I had intended to do my assignment but suddenly I missed my father in my life. My world that has been long gone. I chose not to do anything except lie down looking at the roof of my plain room. I don't know what I'm thinking right now, but I swear to God I missed him. I've spent thousands of days without him that I've forgotten what it's like to have a father. I'm just missing my dad, but I didn't expect him to come back I muttered, holding back tears for fear of being caught by my mother. Before sadness overcame me, I quickly got out of bed and took a brush and watercolors in my closet. Besides reading books, painting is also my third world. The first world I live in, the second world when reading books where I can feel the gray feelings inside me, and the third world of painting, where I can express emotions. Through painting, I can pour whatever I feel into each color that I scribble on the canvas. To me, color is one of the most sincere expressions a person can have. Just like humans, each color also has different characteristics from one another.
The color red, for example. In color psychology, red generally describes love, passion, strength, and anger. This color can evoke strong emotions. Red is one of the colors that attract a person's attention strongly. On the other hand, there is the color white which symbolizes purity, peace, emptiness, and innocence. This color can also depict new beginnings. However, it can also portray a cold and bland feeling.
When painting something that involves emotions, the painter doesn't realize that he or she is choosing colors that correspond to his or her state at the time. Like me, for example. When I am sad, I will tend to paint with dark and pale colors. On the other hand, when I'm happy, the painting is transformed into a flower garden with many bright colors that attract the eye. So it is natural that there are many people out there who think that painters are two people who are very easy to read and very difficult to read by others. They express something through colors, in colors there are strands of stories that perhaps they cannot share with anyone except themselves.
Then to me, it seems like humans are similar to a color. Each person must have a characteristic that only exists in him, not others. So as humans, our task is one, how do we accept all the colors that exist in us without hurting anyone, including ourselves. Because we will always be unique, because in this world, there is only one like us. The night passed by just like that, I put the brush on my painting palette and stepped back to bed. The chaotic feeling that had arisen since last night was gone.
RESVILLE. My brother's only caf was relatively busy at the moment. The tables were already full, leaving one table near the bookshelf that seemed to have been abandoned not long ago because there were still two empty coffee cups on it. The bell hanging on the door tinkled as soon as I entered, making Aaron, my older brother who was sitting behind the cashier's desk smile and wave. I walked into the booth, greeted my brother, and picked up the yellow apron neatly folded in one of the drawers.
"Did you have breakfast?" Aaron asked me after he finished serving a visitor who had just left.
"I made fried rice earlier. I ate it with Mom too."
Aaron nodded. "It's okay, anyway after this, it's okay if you stay at the cafe, I have other work to do."
I gave a thumbs up. "It's safe, captain! There's Brother Aidan too, right?"
