I say quasi-morose because our meeting isn't completely sad. There's also something good I get from this -- realizations, deeper insights, and a much needed pondering. And yet, there's that other side of the pancake, the burnt and confused side.
Cheers!
Same time, same place. We meet again, dear confusion.
Two in the morning, here in my old bed, baffled and bemused as if it were 2008.
Again I ask myself a question that has always brought much anxiety:
"Is this what I really want to do?"
Just a few months ago, my previously enervated pessimism was revived. I began asking myself queries which I thought I have already successfully answered. But apparently, I have not really answered these queries YET.
Is this the right course for me? Do I really want to take this path?
I thought that I already bravely embraced my track because I did enjoy and put in much effort in our BroadJourn news productions. Whenever we finish our output, I would always say to myself that this is something I want to do with my life -- I want to be a reporter.
But then again, I've been mulling over contradicting thoughts lately, giving me reasons to again ask myself the above questions. Constantly nudging me to reevaluate everything.
Maybe I worry too much, I tend to focus on the negative side, rather than the possibilities -- clearly, this is a bad thing.
It's quite too late to swerve paths; I'm down to my last three semesters in college. There shouldn't be any space for these confusion and uncertainties.
Perhaps I'm just feeling too pressured and I'm letting it cast an invisible curse upon my anxious self. There's too much competition, too much expectations, too much of everything there is to worry about. I worry about what's waiting for me in 2012. What kind of career will I have? Can I support myself? Can I help my parents? Can I contribute something meaningful to our society? Will I be happy with what I'll be doing? Can I use my years-worth of learning and experiences? Will everything turn out the way I planned it? And if not, can I still surpass the challenges waiting for me?
I always think about the future. When I was in elementary, maybe I was ten or eleven, I remember having my late night ponder hours (as I like to call it). I would imagine myself in high school, how different it's going to be compared to my carefree days in elementary. Then I would also worry about college -- will I pass the entrance exam in my dream university? What course will I take? How will I survive if I will be staying in a dorm? What will happen to me? Heaps of questions and fears continued to pile up as I got older.
I was under twelve and I was already sketching stress marks on my pale forehead.
And seven years later, I'm still doing the same thing. I worry too much. I make plans, very advanced plans.
I wanted to be a doctor, then a scientist, then a lawyer, then an educator, then an architect, then a chemical engineer, then a writer, then a lawyer again, then a reporter, then someone who gets paid for speaking and reading (haha), then a writer again, then a reporter again.
I have always been confused, in the same way that I have always lacked sleep.
When I was a junior in high school, filling out my forms for college, I never considered choosing Creative Writing as my course. And just last year, I kept on asking myself why didn't I take up BA CW? Why? Maybe I was too afraid. We all know what people say about people who write for a living. It's either you're extremely good, extremely lucky, or you end up extremely hungry. I'm not a writing prodigy or anything, I just happen to enjoy writing. I'm not that good at it, but at least the passion is there. I enjoy reading, sharing stories, and creating worlds from nothing else but playful imagination.
Amid my busiest week in college (last semester), I realized that I wasn't really enjoying what I was doing. I felt stressed, pressured, and unmotivated. I was not losing interest in studying, certainly I was not. I just realized that I wasn't as happy as before. If I really like what I'm doing, even if it's something immensely difficult, there should be some pint of happiness in there. But the sun has lost its color, cerulean skies have fallen on grey stones. I am confused.
And then I imagined myself, in the same situation -- buried under school work, exams, and deadlines, but this time I was a CW student. How would I feel? Perhaps I would still be stressed and pressured, but this time, maybe I was a bit happier, a bit more enthusiastic with what I was doing. Because I'm doing what I love and that is writing.
It's easy to say these things because they're all locked up in my imagination. I'm sure that if I were a CW student, I could have also been ranting at 2AM. But maybe I was still happier. Maybe, just maybe.
I still want to be a reporter. I want to make documentaries about matters which are not usually featured in the mainstream (glossy!) media. I want to discuss relevant issues, without having to worry about the demands of advertisers or company partners or political allies or whatnot. I want to make documentaries that could challenge its viewers to give their thoughts on important issues, to move them into doing something about these issues. I also want to give light to topics which are considered taboo, I want to explore stereotyped matters and I want to help in exploring insightful explanations for these issues. Ambitious. Everything sounds so ambitious, it scares me. I'm just a small dot in an endless expanse.
But at the same time, there's this other side of me telling me that this is not the direction I want to take. It's somewhere more free, more relaxed, more creative. Where I can freely write, travel, teach, help, and explore.
An educator? Yes, I'm still open to that possibility. A lawyer? I have tried to convince myself that I still want this. But recent realizations are showing a different direction. A writer? Yes. A media practitioner? Yes, but perhaps I should not limit myself to just looking at broadcast journalism as the only path there is. I still have a lot of learning (and perhaps exploring) to do. And hopefully this will land me with a much needed enlightenment.
I talk too much. I hope I'm this talkative when I'm around other people. This is another story right here.
It's best if I now go to sleep.
Cheers
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