Shadows came rushing in
A flood of overwhelming majorities
I can feel it all
Sensitive to many if not all
I can hear them whisper
One by one
A murmur, a hush
Then came a few who spoke
Fewer shouted
I can hear a buzz
A ringing scream inside the halls
I can hear them all
First inaudible
Then came clarity
A fine line between hearsay and reality
I tried screaming
louder than what they are saying
But no sound came out of my throat
I need an escape
Far from pangs of reality
A trickle of sweat
Beading onto my head
Slowly creeping
Trickling to my neck
Cold shivers down my spine
Goosebumps on my arms
I swallowed hard
Bracing myself
Then shadows came rushing in
A flood of overwhelming majorities
So a few days ago a talked about the sad realities of realizing your dream and finding yourself stuck in a nightmarish job, instead of the vision-board-perfect life you once thought it would be (read about that here).
Today, I found myself just staring at weird spots, contemplating life. I don’t know why, but for some reason, I’m just completely lost and unproductive and, just worthless. And then I came upon this awesome video and… well, just go watch it.
On choosing your profession…
Something I think not everyone understands is that artists have to make a living, too. We can’t just thrive off the warm, happy glow of having just created something–our craft is our work.
On getting frustrated about drawing the line between work and art…
I have bad days, days where I’m just paralyzed by how many things I want to do that I can’t do because of stupid reasons like money and time and whatever. And I shouldn’t compare my career to other people’s careers, but I do… and it just… kills me.
On becoming a workaholic…
The only thing that helps is working… finding new projects, telling new stories,a nd anything that feels more productive than production.
On realizing your dreams…
I know that I’m just a speck of sand on a beach of identical specks. And I’m a relatively lucky speck. I’m a speck that sometimes gets to make art.
…It’s also about why working in a fashion magazine sucks, big time.
See, I’m one of those weird girls who read magazines so much as a kid until it became a lifelong dream to be a model or an editor or a stylist or whatever, as long as I get to read magazines for a living. Now, I’m paid to read magazines, go to shoots, interview celebrities, write stories, and look respectable enough that when I introduce myself as an editor, I won’t be doubted.
I love it. But frankly, I couldn’t help but hate the industry I’m in. Devil Wears Prada is RIGHT, girls. This isn’t all glamour. That’s very cliche but very true and here’s why: Beauty and Fashion. Two things that make the magazine industry go round. Here’s the thing.
When you enter our building, here’s what you’ll realize: Dress codes do not apply to the people who work in my company. It’s not because we’re dominant. It’s just that, it would prevent us from living a lifestyle that makes up the whole industry we’re living in. We breathe fashion (supposedly), we live in all things beauty, and having to wear skirts that go past your knee is just. plain. evil. (Especially when you don’t have enough clothes that are long enough to cover your damn huge thighs and butt.) Oh and the makeup?! The people here would put beauty gurus to shame because dayummm, everyone’s brows are on fleek, and the no-makeup-makeup-look game is sooo on point. (Okay, I am sounding like the female-magazine-website-writer I am now.) And that’s what I hate/love the most. I love doing my own makeup (except for the brows, I am so bad at that) but I get so lazy doing it on a daily basis.
And then I saw this video…
…and it hit home so bad.
Like when I jumped from one company to another because of a ‘dream’
“Dabble your eyes with optimism. It’s all about your perspective on the world. But you wanna be careful and not put too much optimism, or else you’ll be left with disappointment via your high expectation.”
And when the ‘culture’ got to me so fast, I became the person I hate so much…
“If your thoughts are negative, self-deprecating or judgmental, guess where it’s gonna go? It’s gonna trickle down that beautiful face and make you ugly.”
When I go home at 5 in the morning, tired but still trying to convince myself that I did good today because I ‘helped’ people…
“Does what you do out here [your face] match what you what you feel in here [your heart]? Because I believe that confidence and how you carry yourself is going to affect more of your relationships than anything else. If everywhere you come from is an insecure and an inadequate-feeling place, you’re not gonna be a very fun person to be around.”
So yeah… some truth to be served here. I’m still trying. Are you?
Isn’t it funny how kids sometimes say things that make more sense that we do as adults? If you think you’ve got adulthood all figured out, wait ’til you hear little Tiana’s words of wisdom to her Mum and Dad after witnessing them fight a few hours earlier.
“If we live in a world where everyone’s being mean, everyone’s gonna be a monster in the future!” – Tiana
Kasi hindi raw ako nagsasalita kahit kinakausap. Kasi wala raw akong emosyon sa mga kaganapan. Kasi mag-isa lang ako kumakain. Kasi mag-isa lang akong umuuwi. Kasi wala raw akong sinasamahan na lakad. Kasi NR (no reaction) lang daw ako palagi. Tulala. Malayo ang tingin. At kung anu-ano pa.
Weird daw ako.
Kasi wala raw akong kaibigan. May sariling mundo. May sariling kausap. Walang opinyon. Walang suhestiyon.
Pero akala lang nila ‘yon.
Kasi para sa akin,
Sila ang weird.
Nagsasalita kahit hindi kailangan. Umeepal kahit hindi kausap. Nakikisali kahit wala naman silang kinalaman. Nagbibigay ng opinyon kahit hindi naman hinihingian. At kung anu-ano pa.
Napaka weird talaga nila.
Makikipagbreak sa boyfriend pero iyak naman ng iyak. Sinisiraan ang katrabaho pero lagi naman niyang kasama. Naka iphone 6 plus pero laging walang load. May dala-dalang sasakyan kahit na 100 metro lang ang layo ng tirahan niya. Ang arte-arte magsalita kahit wala namang brace. At kumakain sa turo-turo matapos mag-inaso na takot daw siya magkasakit ng typhoid.
Kaya kahit anong pilit nila. Hindi ko sila kinakausap. Hindi ko lang feel. Wala akong pakialam. Akala lang nila wala akong kaibigan pero akala lang nila ‘yon.
Si Aron.
Kasama ko na siya tuwing umaga simula bata pa lang ako. Kalaro. Kabiruan. Katawanan. Hanggang ngayon na nagta trabaho na ako ay kasama ko pa rin siya lagi. Hindi ko nga alam kung anong school siya pero lagi ko siyang katabi dati pa. Hindi nag-u-uniporme. Hindi nagsasapatos, pero hindi siya nakagalitan ng teacher namin kahit isang beses.
Si Betty.
Nakasama namin siya ni Aron pagkatapos kong magkasakit dati. Sakitin din siya at nakilala ko siya isang umaga no’ng inilabas ako para maarawan sa ospital na halos tinirhan ko ng isang buwan no’ng 12 anyos pa lang ako. At pagkatapos ng isang buwan na ‘yon, lagi na rin kaming magkasama. Malapit lang ata bahay nila sa amin kaya kahit hanggang hapon minsan ay andun pa siya. Parang si Aron. Hindi niya rin ako iniiwan.
Si Caloy.
Nito ko na lang nakilala si caloy isang araw habang naglalakad ako sa kung saan. Taliwas sa ugaling masayahin nila Aron at Betty, lagi namang nakasimangot si Caloy taga-kontra sa mga rules ng laro. Taga supalpal sa mga biruan at tawanan. KJ nga ang tawag namin sa kanya. Pero kahit ganoon, hindi niya rin ako iniwan. Hindi katulad ng mga magulang ko at mga kamag-anak. Pagkatapos ko kasing maulila ay pinaampon na ako kung kani-kanino. Pare-parehas sila.
Kaya pagkatapos no’n, hindi na ko interesado sa ibang tao. Wala akong pakialam. Wala.
Si Aron, si Betty at Caloy.
Sila lang ang mga kaibigan ko. Mabuti na lang at nakilala ko sila. Salamat sa mga taong iniwan sila sa kung saan. Silang tatlo lang ang katulad ko ng pinagdaanan.
Kahit na hindi sila pwedeng magpa-abot ng dapit-hapon kapag magkakasama kami. Kahit na hindi sila nagpapalit ng damit at ng kulay ng suot. Kahit na hindi sila dumurumi o pinagpapawisan. Kahit na wala silang mukha. Kahit na kakulay nila ang usok sa edsa.
Millennial Interests 