On passions and career –

Tags

career, choice, commencement address, jim carrey, late night thoughts, life, marc andreessen, passion, personal, practicality, profundity of life

I can’t sleep because I just read an article on Business Insider about career advice that “no one wants to hear.”

Marc Andreessen responds to Jim Carrey’s commencement address about following what you love through a series of several tweets, stating that following your passion is dangerous and destructive career advice. He proves a good point by saying that better career advice would be to “do what contributes,” which is to focus on what benefits most people compared to oneself. If you read the rest of the article, Andreessen gives supporting tweets as to why that would be the better career.

From previous blog posts, I think you all know that I’m a very passionate person. I’ve loved my craft ever since I was old enough to understand it, and despite all my attempts to veer away from it, I keep coming back to the one thing that makes me feel bigger than myself. From my perspective, my art and my passion is a constant form of self-expression and even more importantly, an alternative venue to expose and make aware messages, concepts and mindsets that most of society keep in the dark. My craft encounters the controversial in a very personal and intimate way, often leaving audiences reeling and even more so, thinking.

I’ve also failed at my craft — most people do. I’ve gone weeks, hell — even months living from paycheck to paycheck, often even borrowing money from my parents at the lack of income. I’ve often left rehearsals aggravated and frustrated, knowing that I’m only as good as the performance I’ve presented the day before. I’ve gone through the hardships and toils of being a freelance artist, and I’ve heard it all too many times from my father that what I’m doing isn’t going to make me happy in the long run. And honestly, after experiencing ‘failure’ for a year, I can vouch that living that life is highly difficult and impractical.

What makes me think, though, is this — is the concept of career a black and white area as well? One person tells you to follow your passion, and the other person says otherwise. From the beginning of my life even until now, I find myself questioning why every choice has to be black and white: this or that, up or down, good or bad, right or wrong. Although I concede that some choices do require black-and-white answers, I don’t know if career choice is one of them. I think that the career world is so vast that black and white is even impossible to do; every day, I find new career choices popping up left and right, each getting more and more specific. It’s just like this iPhone app called Pixel People — an application that lets you splice different people with different careers, each career even more particular than the last. The career world is so collaborative that more and more, people find new ways to combine several careers and pioneer a new one that is just, if not more, relevant than before.

Is the world literally divided into people who follow their passions and people who don’t? I don’t think so. The career path I’m choosing is both passion-oriented and contributory, a career choice that lets me learn more and more about my craft and how it can possibly reach out to people as well. I also know of people in my craft who do the same thing, which is why certain crafts aren’t limited to just one occupation.

I was just irked at the fact that Andreessen mentions narcissism for following one’s passion. Although I do not speak for everyone who chooses to follow their passion, I know I do not follow mine purely for myself. Besides, what is life without passion? I think passion is what makes us human, what differentiates going through life and actually living. However, maybe there is a difference between following your passion only for yourself in comparison to following your passion for overall growth and making the world a better place.

What are your thoughts?

To my dearest Tiffany —

Tags

bluerep, how can I even, late night thoughts, love, meh, moments, passion, personal, toilet the musical

For those who don’t know, the past four months have been crazy c/o blueREP’s Toilet: the Musical. It’s Day Three since closing night, and I still find myself reeling.

To my dearest Tiffany,

I don’t even know where to begin.

Let me start off by saying that you’re beautiful, in the most fucked up of ways. Not a lot of people see your inner workings, but Abi and I had the pleasure of getting to know you over the past four months. At first, you reminded me of someone I used to know, a caricature of that person whom I had the unfortunate opportunity of being with during some dark, unpleasant times. But as I got to know you, you had some traits of that person that I had forgotten.

It’s a shame that nobody gets to see you past your external frame. Immediately, everyone could possibly judge you for being whiny, self-centered and begging for attention. I don’t disagree — sometimes you were just extremely selfish, but everyone was selfish at that age. You’ve been through some rough times, and you remind me too often of that person I used to know. I resisted getting to know you, concluding you were stupid, shallow and pathetic. Like I said, you were slowly pushing me into a direction I had left a long time ago.

Ejay reminded me that if I constantly saw you that way, that’s what would come out. That wasn’t the story Ejay, Bym or Miyo wanted me to tell. Each character they created — well, we created — had both good and bad sides. I had forgotten that about you. I really can’t thank them enough for letting me get the chance to really know you, despite all my previous judgments of you.

Tiff, thank you for reminding me of the little girl who used to love and dream with all of her. Friends always teased me that I was so big, because only a body like this could house a heart that huge. Thank you for reminding me that I am still capable of loving and dreaming that way, for unabashedly showing someone that I care, despite whatever everyone thinks of me. Thank you for reminding me that maybe, just maybe, if I had the strength to do what you did, I could overcome anything.

Thank you for showing me how to hope despite everything else not going my way. Thank you for reminding me about bleak lights in the darkness, that even the smallest of lights could grow into something bigger, something that could actually save me. Thank you for being an outlet, in the roughest of times. Thank you for showing me the reason why I would always choose the stage, why I would always choose this craft for the rest of my life.

Thank you for bringing me to one of my best friends, and one of my greatest loves.

And now, I cope with the loss of having to let you go.

Goodbye, Tiffany. It’s been swell. I love you.

Questionable

Tags

breaking up, calm, friends, getting over it, honesty, late night thoughts, questions

How do you stay friends with people who don’t bother staying friends with you?

It’s not that you don’t want to be friends. No. That’s probably where all the resentment is coming from, isn’t it? It’s why you dare inquire about your friendship, if it’s worth salvaging. It’s because you still want to be friends, but suddenly the weight of keeping the friendship is all on you. How d’you do that? You used to share that weight together, like two people carrying a huge trunk aboard a ship. And when you’ve reached your destination, you realize that you’re lugging that stupid thing alone, while your partner is busy doing something else — something else without you in it.

It’s so easy to just say that you’re detached, you know? That you don’t care. Your friend can do whatever the hell he or she wants; it doesn’t really matter to you. “Friends come and go,” you say, trying to ignore the bitter taste in your mouth left by the slightly hurt tone in your voice. Your point isn’t that friends come and go. Your point is that you thought your friend would have stayed. And you’re just left with that realization that reality isn’t your expectations, and you just shouldn’t have expected in the first place.

Are friends supposed to be seasonal, like strawberries, the weather and theatre productions? Is it only supposed to be reduced to “that time of the month” or even “that time of year”? Are friends supposed to just keep you around when they’re feeling lonely or desolate — or what the hell, totally insecure about themselves — and they use you to build them up to where they feel they should be? What are friends for, anyway?

You ask yourself all these questions, and you forget that sometimes, there are just no answers.

Instead, you find yourself relishing the fact that despite your theory about these “friends” — well, you’ve got other friends that prove you wrong. And your answer to the first question, at the end of the day, is that you don’t.

When Thought-Vomit Weaves Into A Stream of Consciousness

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late night thoughts, note to self, personal, random, stream of consciousness, thought vomit

Everyone just has one of those nights, right?

On a physical note, I think I’m starting to develop a sore throat. I dunno if it’s an allergic reaction to something, ’cause today I was sneezing like anything on the way to visit my mom in the hospital. I’ve gotten something like this before, and it sucks ’cause my nose is runny and my throat is sore and I’m up at 2:49 AM writing a blog that will probably make no sense because at the moment I make no sense.

Second note — I realize that I haven’t written on my blog in a while. I was about to check the last time I wrote, but then I got lazy so I decided to just jump into it and write anyway. I promised myself that I’d try to keep this going, but sometimes I find myself staring at a screen with the title erased five times over and the straight line where text is supposed to be blinking steadily back at me. Then WB (Writer’s Block, as everyone knows him) simply smirks at me from a dark corner in my head and just lures me back into his arms. He is cold, hard and empty. What makes tonight different? I got drunk on thoughts and I decided to puke all over him. He’s currently glaring at me in disgust, but I’m too inebriated by my thoughts and feelings to care otherwise.

Third note — I hate feeling trapped. I hate the feeling that I’m trying desperately to break free from whatever is chaining me down, but I can’t. Sometimes I don’t even recognize what’s trapping me. Are they chains? Is it a cage? Am I just trapped in a room and someone locked me in? Or am I in a huge-ass labyrinth with hardly any sense of a way out? Regardless of any of these circumstances though, I am still trapped. And I hate that feeling more than my sore throat at the moment, and that’s probably saying something.

Fourth note — Watch Genesis. It’s a blueREPERTORY play that I musically directed. At one point I seriously thought that I wouldn’t invite anybody, but at this point, I suppose it doesn’t hurt. I heard they had a really good show today — probably because I didn’t watch, haha — so I think it’s something that y’all should catch if you’re within the Metro Manila area. The material is excellent, albeit damn difficult, so I think you guys would be interested in it either way.

Fifth note — I was watching Before Sunset until my sore throat pissed me off and I couldn’t enjoy it anymore. I love Before Sunrise and Before Sunset mainly because of its dialogue. I mean, of course the whole story revolves around their dialogue and how everything just magically weaves together in an intricate web of gorgeous European-romantic-feels-movie goodness, and I dunno, I just really appreciate that. Lately it’s just been so hard to find good conversation. Why is it so difficult to sit down over a cup of coffee or a cold beer and just talk about ideas and abstract concepts, things beyond people and the daily grind? Is it because we’re too tired to think? I don’t know. I don’t really have the answers to anything at the moment.

Sixth note — Despite how tired I am, I don’t understand why I’m not sleepy right now.

Seventh note — I’d normally just talk to someone, but said someone is asleep. Funny how in some situations, the tables have turned.

Sa Wakas

Tags

beginnings, guts, happiness, late night thoughts, musical theatre, passion, personal, profundity of life, sa wakas, tribute

Funny how that phrase can mean so many things.

Sa Wakas, meaning “the end.” In the past month or so that I’ve been offline (in terms of blogging), I could say that a lot of things have ended. I wish I could say that some other things have ended, but I am not so lucky. However, I am happy to say that I have learned so much in the past month, I don’t even know where to begin talking about it.

After getting a job, I quit after two months. A huge chunk of the reason was because I needed to help my mom manage her businesses, and I really believe it to be the reason because I really would have stayed a bit longer to see what I could squeeze out of the experience. But quitting my job also meant another thing — I’m done with jumping into things without really thinking about them. I admit that I had gotten my job because I needed the extra money, which shouldn’t be the sole reason as to why one gets a job anyway. Knowing that my next job (whichever that may be) would be one that I really hope to enjoy and learn from is very exciting. I’m glad that my impulsiveness regarding careers is (hopefully) over.

Well, very literally, Sa Wakas is over. I don’t know if I ever mentioned it in this blog, but I was part of a production called Sa Wakas, which was a work in progress musical featuring the songs of Sugarfree. It’s been a crazy four months having to deal with intensive rehearsals, balancing my two jobs and flak from my parents regarding my life choices, but I have to say that every bit of it was worth it. I feel like I’ve grown so much as a performer in the past four months, and I am even gladder to say that I have gained a new family and new insights about myself and what I choose to do with my life.

Sa Wakas dealt with the transition of young hopeful youths to more realistic twenty-somethings. If there was anything I appreciated the most of the storyline is really the way the writers (shoutout to Andrei and Ina here!) mapped the decisions of the main character and how each of those decisions affected the way his life turned out to be. It was amazing how the storytelling showed how one decision affected another throughout the story, and it really hit me that each of the choices I make now will have an impact, however small, on what happens to me later on. I always knew this at the back of my mind, but it never really seemed to slap me in the face until now. I really thank the production for that.

But more importantly, I love how the phrase sa wakas could mean “at last.” I guess for the past few months, I have been feeling so trapped in all aspects of my life. I felt like all the odds in the world were against me, and I honestly had no idea what to do about it. But getting the chance to really sit down, think and reflect on my choices and what my next move will be is such a blessing. At last, I can finally feel my lungs breathe. At last, I can finally pause for a moment and really contemplate on what I choose to do with my life. At last, I can finally appreciate all the bumps in the road that led me to the crossroads that I am in now. At last, I can finally say that I am ready to start making decisions on my own.

The past month has offered me so many opportunities to grow. I’m glad I’m growing. I’m glad that this hazy, blurry part of my life is starting to end. And the best things about endings is that they offer new beginnings. Here’s to seizing the new beginnings that I’m sure are coming my way. 🙂

Cry

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crying, cryptic, frustrated, guts, honesty, how can I even, late night thoughts, meh, personal, You

I really hate crying. I hate it. I mean, there is nothing and I mean nothing fun about blotchy red eyes, a huge lump stuck in your throat and your heart ripping apart to every wretched sob that leaves your mouth. I hate the headache. I hate the heartache.

I promised myself I wouldn’t cry over you because you’re not worth it. Nobody’s worth locking myself up in the bathroom listening to shitty love songs until I can feel my body break into pieces. Nobody’s worth staring blankly into space for an hour afterwards, trying to get rid of the pounding against my temples.

Do you know how valuable tears are? In Harry Potter, Snape’s tears were used to capture all his precious memories with the one girl he lived for. In The Holiday, Cameron Diaz couldn’t even cry after how many years ever since her parents got divorced. Do you know how much I refuse to cry over you, because you seriously make me feel like I’m the most worthless person who is not worth any of your time?

You may not realize it, but I put so much effort for you. I drop everything, everything to talk to you. God knows what the hell goes on in my head and in my heart when I feel like I could possibly disappoint you, when I feel like there’s a chance I could mess up. But you – god, you don’t see any of it, do you? You don’t see me at all. Sometimes, I even feel like you don’t care.

For the first time, I feel so defeated. But for the first and last time, I’m going to cry over you – over you, me, “us” and whatever the hell is left of it.

I’m fucked. Totally fucked.

Enough.

Tags

cryptic, frustrated, guts, honesty, late night thoughts, love, meh, You

Would it be easier to just put all the cards on the table?

Would things be better for me to just tell you everything – to tell you what’s going on inside my head, to tell you what’s going on inside my head about you, to ask you the questions I’ve been dying to ask, to let out every painful, confusing thing you’ve done, and to have you clear up that everything that I’ve been thinking was either wrong or right? What would come out of it? What would happen? Would we be okay? Or is this the one-way ticket to messing everything up?

We practically just “survived” the supposed predicted apocalypse. And all throughout the day, I kept thinking that if today were the end of the world, I would tell you how I feel. And I guess I was wrong in hoping that you would do the same thing, because how am I so sure that you’re feeling what I’m feeling? How am I so sure that I mean as much to you as you do to me?

Maybe I’m better off writing you something and telling you in my head. Maybe you’re just better off not knowing. Maybe – I don’t know. I’ve had enough.

Welcome back, Useless Blog Posts

Tags

confused, cryptic, late night thoughts, meh, moments, personal, random, useless blog

It’s that time of night when my friend Ciary and I end up having “feelings suck” time. It’s that time when we send each other Youtube links of songs that make us cry or at least feel something similar to the process of having your heart torn out like in Once Upon A Time. Yeah, Love = Cora/Regina/any other evil person who rips your heart out of your body and can squeeze it to dust and keep you under their control – and on a damn sidenote, did you guys really have to make Killian Jones the sexiest man anyone has ever seen? Really, Once Upon a Time?!

Ciary’s asleep now, I think, but for some reason, I’m having major fragile time alone. Today was very eventful in terms of Stages of Love, and I’m just thinking that my hormones are on major overdrive. I cried twice during rehearsals today listening to the cast sing all those songs about love, and once again I’m reminded of how tonight, I wait for a text from no one, I sleep with my stuffed cat, Lucifie (from Cinderella, whom I adore) and I’m thinking about love in all its nasty forms.

Writing’s been a very good stress reliever, but sometimes I wish I could do something else aside from spill my feelings to the online world and have everyone see the “total agony of being in love” (Love Actually reference!). Okay, so maybe I’m not in love but I don’t know. I DON’T KNOW HOW I FEEL, AND I HATE HOW I DON’T KNOW HOW I FEEL. BUT I’M GOING TO WRITE A BLOG ANYWAY TO START UP A NEW HABIT OF TELLING PEOPLE HOW I FEEL BECAUSE APPARENTLY KEEPING IT ALL INSIDE IS UNHEALTHY.

I think I’m just going to stay up and think about trees and flowers and how flowers wilt and how this suddenly became very important to me again and god I hope you don’t read this because that would be totally embarrassing that I gave it so much thought and you probably don’t care about it and I’m really just going to stop rambling now

Dear Self –

Tags

honesty, how can I even, late night thoughts, law school, meh, passion, personal, writing

Don’t give up on writing, please.

I know it’s been a while. Let’s be damn honest here when we say that law, as much as you like it, has been draining almost everything you’re passionate about. You haven’t looked at interiors in months, except for splurging on that one Elle Decor magazine and helping Mom prepare the house for Christmas. Today was the first time in a long time that you’ve watched the Food Network. Watching musicals makes you cry.

And damn it, you haven’t written in forever. Writing used to make you soar. It didn’t matter what you wrote back then – songs, poetry, prose – but when you wrote, all your emotions poured out. You allowed yourself to bare your soul for everyone to see. There was something about it that just… made you feel.

Now you’re stuck in a rut. You don’t write, you hardly read anything for leisure, nothing. You’re closed off and isolated. You keep the most painful things to yourself. And you wake up everyday wondering what the hell you’re doing, why you’re there and why you had to go down this path. You wake up everyday wondering if this is worth it, and not getting an answer. You won’t be getting an answer anytime soon.

Writing doesn’t make things complicated. Writing makes it clearer. Writing reminds you that someone out there feels the exact same way as you, will cry at your words because they resonated all too loudly within themselves and would love to wrap their arms around you to let you know that they’re out there. They exist. And they’re there for you.

But for right now, you’re going to have to settle for imaginary, fictional people who sympathize with you, and trust in the real people there for you. Just… well, breathe. Or at least try to.

Returning to Neverland

Tags

late night thoughts, law school, mom, personal

Once again, I’m back at the hospital, watching over my mom. I never get tired of spending time with her, because even if she treats me like a grown-up most of the time, there are days when she lets me stay in the hospital bed with her and squish in like I’m four years old. At least at the end of the day, she can still hug me, kiss me and say, “You’ll always be my baby girl.” You know, just ’cause I’m always going to be her first baby.

Finals week is just around the corner, and I feel like I’ve grown up so much in the past few months. I recall looking at law school like it was the boss at the end of a video game level, and I felt the immense fear of pausing the game, saving it and returning to it some other time – usually with an older boy cousin in tow to do the job for me. Although I do have an older cousin in a different law school, there is really something different about going through law school with only people you’ve barely met to help you – this is probably what XBox Live feels when you’re there for the first time.

Now, with finals coming up, I don’t think I can say that I’m ready to beat the boss just yet. But, thankfully, the past few months in law school have equipped me with some skill, training and weapons to get me by. I’ve had mentors left and right – thank you, Ces and blockmates, and Jet! haha – to help me figure out what to do with law school. I’ve had times where I considered quitting, just because I felt like I’ve got so much left to do and I can’t do it in law school. But now, at least I think I’m ready to fight. And if I fall, I fell trying.

But for this weekend, I think I’m gonna go back to Neverland. Amidst everything that’s going on, I’m going to sit down, have my mom cuddle me, and tell me that she can help me fight my battles. I really don’t know what I’d do without her.