It's Not Sleep That Makes Me Dream, But You
Chapter 15: The Stop

Sunday morning.

Around nine o'clock, I just arrived at the bus stop around Broccoli High School, my school, only need about 10 minutes walk to get there.

I immediately sat on the bus stop with one person who was already sitting on the bench of the stop, waiting for the bus headed Garam city.

Today I have an appointment with a classmate, who certainly is not Adit, my friend is not he doang, he said to do group tasks.

With a black checkered shirt suit, slightly deodorized jeans, blue swallow slippers and a school backpack stuck to my back, I felt quite confident.

Today my agenda is not to go to the city of Garam, but to the public library ride the bus majoring Garam city.

Because the distance between my house and the public library is quite good, it takes about 1 hour to take a bus to get there.

Sitting together with people I don't know at the stop, I feel a little awkward. I sit on the leftmost bench, next to a fat man who wears a pink shirt.

"Morning sir ..." Say hello to me, just a stale base

"For the mas .." The fat man said, he was about 40 years old. The fat man smiled as he greeted me back.Quite friendly.

"Where are you going?" The man asked.

"To the common perpus, sir." Answer me politely.

"Definitely want to do the job, mas ?"

"Yes sir," I nodded. Then we both shut up, out of topic.

I was an easily awkward person and had a hard time finding chat topics, sitting together with strangers made me sweat coldly.

"What class "Task that fat guy again.

"Class 2 High School sir." Answer me while leaning my back on the back of the bench. The fat man stared at the highway in front of the bus stop, hoping the waiting bus would arrive soon, so did I.

Rangga leaning back on the bench, feeling bosen. Then I looked around, looking at the vehicles passing by on the highway, waiting for the arrival of the bus that would take them to their respective destinations.

The weather today is quite sunny, the wind that blows gently feels warm when it hits the body. The faint faint sound of sparrows earthy each other, sounding melodious in the ears. I who leaned on the back of the bench slowly began to feel sleepy because it carried a comfortable atmosphere around. Both eyelids slowly felt heavy to open, I yawned several times. The drowsiness is really unbearable.

When I almost completely fell asleep, the fat man in pink shirt next door slowly patted me on the shoulder, making me a little surprised.

"Mas, don't sleep, it's still morning!" Said the fat guy to me.

"I'm so sleepy sir, hehe." I said, a little shy.

"Yes, but don't sleep at this hour, it's not good." The fat man warned.

I'm confused.

"What's wrong, sir?" Ask me.

"Later rejekinya drag. Just don't sleep if it's still morning, mas!"

I spit, worried about the fate of my fortune. I want something. In fact, during this time I often sleep in the morning. Even when I was at school I often fell asleep in the middle of the first lesson, which is around 08.00 to 10.00 am. Especially after a long holiday, almost every day I always wake up in broad daylight.

"Seriously sir?" I re-stretched my back.

"Yes mas, sleeping in the morning makes a windfall drag." The fat man shifted slightly, feeling tired of sitting in the same position.

"The base has ever heard the term 'Rejeki at the chicken stake enggak'? " The fat man continued to ask.

"Yes, my grandmother used to say that." I nodded.

"Well, but the point is not really in the chicken stock you know that's the whooping."

"Yes, I understand, it's a figure of speech." I said.

"I think that simple metaphor is really scary. We should be ashamed of the chicken who always wake up early to wake up who is still asleep in the morning." Fat guy's limp. I just fell silent and nodded, agreeing with the man's opinion.

"Yes too sir, hehe.maybe from now on I will be more trying to get up early." I said.

Silent... We both don't know what else to talk about.

The time showed at 09:15, the bus did not pass. I feel bosen choose to play Mobile Legend games on HP so as not to sleepy and fall asleep, while the fat man next door is now seen reading the newspaper.

But on the other hand, I also want to have a little fun. Round after round of matches in the game I live. Gradually my bad taste for myself increased. I want to stop playing games and take out the laptop in the backpack and start writing, but the opium that is caused when playing games still penetrates my mind, every time the game is over I want to stop, but somehow I always want to continue the game as well.

"Gue can't keep going." I murmured in my heart. Immediately after saying so in my heart, I then stopped the game in the game even though it was still in the middle of the round. I don't care if I will get a penalty and not be allowed to compete for 24 hours.

I pulled out the laptop from the bag, put it on my lap and turned it on. After waiting for the loading screen for a while, I immediately opened Microsoft Word, intending to continue the comic script for Adit.

The eyes looked at the writings on the white sheet, I put my fingers on the keyboard, preparing to write something. However, not a single word began to be written from my fingers, I just stared stiffly at the laptop screen, at this time my head was completely empty. Sometimes I try to write a few words, then delete them again. I did it a few times, because I felt the sentences were not good.

The wind blew fiercely, blowing away some of the trash and dried leaves that were all around. The sound of leaves still clinging to the top of the tree branches sounded quite loud when hit by the wind. Almost 20 meints have passed since I sat on the bench with the fat man in a pink shirt. The bus we were waiting for had not arrived.

"Ngerjain what mas?" Somehow, suddenly the fat man was closer beside me.

"Oh, this is again sir. " Answer me.

The fat guy stared at my laptop for a few seconds, before finally saying, "Well...well me, mas?"

"I. yes sir." I hesitated when I answered. Actually feel uncomfortable when there are people who read my writing without permission. However, unfinished writing that would be a little embarrassing if read with others, especially I have received several times rejection from publishers, the shame can be doubled.

The fat man in a little pink shirt came closer to me, staring at the laptop even more closely, curious about what I wrote. Feeling uncomfortable, I shifted a little to the left, giving a little distance between me and the fat man.

Staring at the fat man in pink shirt, I felt like I was stuck in a situation that was quite awkward and strange Starting from a simple greeting that I give to strangers just for pleasantries, it even ended with a strange feeling because it turns out the person I was talking to immediately felt familiar. For me who is a little introverted, it is a pretty annoying thing. " Oh my goodness, the bus is not coming. Take me away from here. I want to move to Meikartaaa." I spoke inwardly, begging who I was.

After a few minutes of reading, the fat man held his back, then held his chin while putting on a serious look.

"This is going in the direction of the story - the comedy story is it, mas? " Task the fat guy.

I was a little surprised to hear the fat man's question, it turns out he actually read the script of my comic. " Yes sir, the intention is to go in that direction, but sometimes I am still confused to enter the seasoning - seasoning comedy in what part." Answer me.

"What genre do you usually write about?" The fat man asked

"Request that, but has been rejected too often publishers. But I'm going to use this for comics."

The fat guy looks a little excited. "Oh .. Have you ever sent a script to a publisher?" Said.

"Udah is often sir, and rejected all." The fat man suddenly patted me on the shoulder a few times. I put on a strange expression, I was a bit disgusted. Especially the guy wearing a pink shirt. I was a little suspicious mixed in. Suddenly, my shoulder, my friend, I became a bit worried about my future. Where to wear pink clothes again, don't - don't actually he hates.

The fat man shifted a little, then observed and asked ."Want to be a writer ?"

" Yes sir, I want it anyway, this is still a business anyway sir. It's not easy to be a writer." Answer me.

"Why do you want to be a writer?" The fat man continued.

"Because.. happens to like nulis. I think it would be nice if we could work according to the hobby." I was full of confidence when I said that. "From hobbies, it can be a work, dapet money is also hehe... " Further me. I started to get a little carried away, I spoke quite long this time.

The fat man then smiled and said, "In addition, the author is also free, there are no hours of work, can work anywhere and whenever he wants."

"Yes, yes, too..." I just realized that the author does not have a certain working hours. Unlike office workers, a writer is free to set his own hours, he can work at any time, as long as he can finish the job in accordance with the deadline given, his life will be fine . I think the life of a writer is like a student who has to do schoolwork every day. Because there are no specific rules of work, then his life is a little free from the commands and rules made by others. That's the kind of life I want, free.

"But in order to be a writer, you have to be mentally strong." Said the fat man. "To accept rejection from a publisher over and over again takes a heart and soul that can endure when it comes to accepting the harsh reality." Further.

My feelings are represented by the man's words. " Yes ... really. How do you know ?"

"Because I want to be a writer too." The fat man smiled after saying that.

"Oh... yeah ?" i'm curious.

"Yes, um..." The fat man stopped saying, his eyes glazed over. "After almost 10 years of writing and sending my manuscripts to publishers, I finally just received an email yesterday from the publisher announcing that my manuscript will be published." Said the fat man again. I was a little surprised to hear the explanation from the fat man .

"10 years? Recently received publisher ?!" he said with a slightly raised voice.

"Yes .. hehe .. although there are some parts that must be revised. I want to go to the publisher's office to meet with my editor. "

"Well .. cool." I'm amazed.

After hearing the story of the fat man I did not know his name, I felt amazed by him. I can't imagine how patient that person is to keep writing and believe in his dreams. I felt that the fat man in pink shirt was not lying about the story, his eyes looked sincere when telling the story. 10 years was not a short time, but it was not a short time, fat man it keeps trying and believe in his dream until it materializes . That's really an amazing thing.

I smile at the road, I am more convinced that his dream to become a great novelist and comic writer will come true.

After almost 30 minutes of waiting, finally the bus majoring Garam city arrived and stopped right in front of the stop. I immediately closed the laptop, then put it in the backpack. I and the fat man in pink shirt stood up, we both then stepped into the bus that would take them to their respective destinations.

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