How do you think life as a freelancer is?

Let me share you a story of life of a Food Blogger, Public Relations Officer, Digital Marketer, Advertisement Campaigner, Social Media Specialist – Freelancer.

His apartment is his office. From table to chair, sofa to floor, television to bed, anything anywhere he could sit at and put on his laptop, it is his working area.

Here it is, story of FS! A creative-young -adult, good in reviewing and designing, working everywhere. Everywhere is his office. And nowhere is his office.

“FS, it is nice to know you. I always wanted to be a freelancer, I think it is cool working for some companies and becoming boss of my own time. How is it living as a freelancer?” asked me to FS.

Man looking at computer code on a laptop while working from his small office.

He smiled. “Yes, it is good. I’ve been working as a freelancer for around 3 years, and sometimes I feel lonely. Sometimes I get a kind of feeling to sit in a office like I used to did. There are moments I’m losing my motivation, and bed just make me wanted to sleep. Hahaha, for me it is the hardest one to be controlled.”

“Wow, so I can say sometimes you missed … kind of office atmosphere?” asked me to him.

“Yes, yes, kind of. You know, sometimes when you are overwhelmed a little bit, you just need to stand up, find people and talk for a while, laugh, eating something, sharing something, do whatever it is to make you relax a little bit. And a good point sitting in front of a laptop in a office is, you are not allowed to sleep. But as if I worked alone, I can sleep anywhere I wanted too. I just need to fulfill the deadline.”

“Oh I see. So the temptation to sleep and managing your own time is kind of … challenging? hahaha” asked me to him laughing.

Accident Victim

Story of BB, 18 year old student, a victim as well as a rescuer. 

“It was a sunny day at Yogya when our government launched Transyogya, a public bus operating around the city, connecting almost every area of my lovely town. 

I was standing up, holding the grip, until our bus almost get into the station. When I looked forward, I am confused why the bus didn’t stop or slower the speed whereas there was another bus in front of us. 

Seriously, not long after that, our bus hit on the bus in which was in a stop position located in front of us. My body was moving forward in a very high speed, as well as everyone in the bus. 

Not long after the accident, I get myself back. As I looked around, every one was hurt. Some officers helped some of the passengers to get out of the bus. I tried to rescue them to, especially the old men. 

I helped them one by one. From grandpa to grandma, adult to kids, ladies and men, till I became the last man standing in the bus. When I was about to get off, an officer looked me in the eye and said, “Hey young boy thanks for helping! You are such a kind-hearted man.”

Not long after that he looked down at my red elbow. Then that man said, “Wow you even bear that wound while rescuing these people?”

Furthermore I look at my hand and just realize that my hand was hurt. There were some glass flakes pierced. I was surprised and just able to feel the pain.

Then I laughed to him, “Hahaha thanks for letting me know.”

Then I was frozen. Speechless as well. He pulled me out of the bus and brought me to a hospital together with dozens of other patients.

Long story short, my hand was bandaged.

Weeks later, I was healed. My hand was recovered, I could use it normally. I took off the bandage and put it inside of a photo frame and hang it on my sleeping room’s wall.

Every time I feel bad about myself, I will look up to that bandage and remind myself that once in my life I’ve ever been a hero without wings or spider webs, and it makes me feel more than great.


Can we address someone who works for 66 hours a week as a workaholic?

In my dictionary it’s a yes.

So here it is, story of RK, a 24-year-old, funny yet quirky Management Trainee of a hotpot restaurant.

“How can you choose this job, RK?” asked me to this beautiful lady in a sunny day, drinking hot chocolate.

“Well, It’s quite not a short story, but I can say that I’m kind of trapped, told her to me then blinking her eyes a little bit, then she continued.

“I don’t believe I’m living this kind of life now. Working like a robot and seeing some humans truly working as they are a super powerful robot, only need some hours to be charged then working for the whole day. This is kind of unbelievable. True story, anyway!

Being a Management Trainee for a hotpot restaurant made me live this kind of life.

I am more than grateful. 

Wake up at 8.30 am in the morning, have shower, make a super neat hair bun and use hair wax, use handie talkie and get used to if it’s cable, then go to work. 

There are even some procedures to go to toilet or to drink because during working time I wear company’s uniform. 


I thought it is going to be a super boring life. But it turns out, not really. There are gems inside this kind of life.  It is fun! 

I learn how to play rubic twist, making a ball shape and a heart shape and a dog shape and snake shape whatever it is you name it.

I learn to dance with noodle, pulling the noodle dough here and there, make a beautiful movement then creates a syhmphony. Kind of new art and new game. Again, new experience.

I get a chance to live with 5 other Chinese women, eating a super Chinese breakfast.  Having goji berry and plum and longan to be cooked with porridge and served as breakfast.  Then having a Mandarin conversation breakfast. It is somehow makes me feel like I’m living in a little China town. 

Those are new things I experienced which made my life becomes more colorful. Who says you have to go to a far place to do new things? Any experiments can be done anywhere. Go ahead, try at least 1 each day!  “


I had that kind of roommate who made people laugh till their jaw getting stiff, but then every night go to bed crying.

She is lovely, having beautiful eyes yet funny unique voice. She is overweight as well. Let’s call her GB, a 30-year-old woman.

Once I asked her, “Hey, friend, what’s your most favorite thing to do in this world?”

While everyone in the room was in silence because of thinking, she spontaneously answer me, “Eating,” with full of smile in her face.

I asked her why, then she told me because only when she is eating she could forget about everything. I din’t really buy this word until I share the same bed and night with her.

We shared the same tears but not the same pain.

When we were about to sleep, I could notice that she was crying. That’s how everything started. I just knew that she is a widow. During her 3 years of marriage, she has aborted 3 babies. By the way this is allowed in her country. It means one baby every year. Then it simply means she got pregnant every year and every time she got pregnant she aborted their babies. Nope, it supposed to be her babies.

“If I could turn back time, I won’t marry this man. I was so specious and stubborn. No one agreed on my choice. My parents to my best friend, they didn’t allow me to marry this man. My ex-husband was previously a divorcee before we get married. May be that was the reason why my people didn’t allow me to marry him.

But because I was persistent, they got no choice except to let me do what I wanted, marry him. That’s how everything started. He was a lazy man, unwilling to work. It was my mistake to spoil him too.

I earned money. Let him stay at home. Prepared his clothes. Cooked him food. Served him all the best I could do. Did all the things the best wife could do. At that time I was a working wife as well. There was also a day I was pregnant and I still cooked him food while all the things he could do was only sitting and playing.

I remember in a cold winter day, I was pregnant and I cooked him food. Getting off from my work, walked a long way to cook then delivered him the meal. I was late. I felt like almost dying. The first thing came out from his lip wasn’t asking how I was doing, he was mad at me being late.

I was full of anger and disappointment, speechless as well.

At that time, I just remembered why all the people around me didn’t allow me to marry him. May be because they already knew this would happen. I regretted I didn’t listen to them and just follow my personal instinct.

Not long after saying this, GY cried. I could’t do anything. She regretted everything.

That’s how she went to bed crying everyday. She regretted her life and couldn’t turn back time. The only thing she could do to forget her regret was eating, only eating. But she felt sad for being fat too.