June 6, 2011. Nothing to write. Not because I don’t have anything on my mind worth sharing, it’s simply there are two stories, big stories, I wanted to work on. And I don’t how to where to start with and how I am going to attack them.
It was Monday night just came in for work and I was dead sure it was going to be a long rainy night. I took my decaying purse (funny to keep a poor looking thing when I have my money now, while I had a huge wallet in college) took my umbrella and went for the nearest overpriced convenience store here in Boracay. I thought of buying a coffee at first but decided for a health juice drink to compensate for skipping my running regime that afternoon.
So there I attacked the fridge! And found a bottle of that juice drink I used to get obsessed when I lived in Manila. I paid the bills in cold hard cash, err coins, and immediately drowned a quarter of it in one gulp. But suddenly there was a nasty reaction from my mouth that later went all the way to my stomach. I realized the fluid tasted bitter and fouler than it has to be. I checked the BB date and found out that wretched bottle just expired that very day – 6/6/11. Oh great out of the millions of possible coincidences this life could offer, my fate came crashing on an expired item.
Violent reactions. As a consumer I have all the rights in the world to go berserk at the store but decided to keep my cool and politely ask for replacement (trust me that’s easier said than done). Embarrassed, the manager asked me to replace the bottle with another (unexpired item). I went for the same juice drink but with a later expiration period – next month – I needed that juice for chrissake. But what annoyed me was they even asked me if I could add order. The world is crazy I started believing that very moment. May lakas loob pa silang mag.offer ng sales right after da kafalpakan. Eh pwedeng pwede ko silang ipahiya at pahirapan sa pagreturn ng item, pag.void ng transaction, then exchange – I would exchange a cheaper item to make ‘em nosebleed. But di ko ginawa, mabait ako eh. Hahaha
Speaking of expired moments, the worst case scenario for me to have that is not found in the store or the amount of suffering visiting the CR (due to LBM). It’s found inside the head. Literally the word expired also means no inspiration. And for artists and writers having no inspirations is a nightmare. It’s like pulling off the life support power cord from a helpless patient.
I have my own unfortunate encounters of artistic expiration. Right before I went to business school I once have that intense passion for drawing and sketching. I was pretty damn sure I would end up taking up Architecture and Fine Arts. But I flunked some exams, screwed up some chances and proved myself unworthy of my parents’ trust (and financial support) and at the end I was served an exile trip to the world of Accountancy. It was horrible the first months, I could not draw and I stopped trying. Drawing was once my identity, my niche, and the only thing I believe I inherit from my father. As legends told me I was born with a pencil in my hand and paper on the other; I was Lapiskamay, in English the pencilhands.
But I killed him. Joining the school publication as a writer and cartoonist doesn’t give justice to that crime. I still couldn’t find myself as inspired to draw like I used to since high school.
From the ruins of my drawing dreams blossomed a different side of me as an artist. I became a writer, an essayist, an overnight playwright. People always tell me I’m very good at it. Yeah I was special, they said, there is soul in the words I write with the attitude to conjure that wicked humor. It felt good hearing them. And it really felt good to express myself in a different kind of medium. So I stick with writing hoping that the day would come when I could I forgive myself for killing Lapiskamay.
It never came.
College was one of the best things that ever happened to me. It was the period of my life where I could identify myself from the other and freely accepted who I am. Out there in Saint Joseph College I learned to open up to others, made good friends and explored the different side society. As a self proclaimed artist I not only indulged myself to writing, I tried poetry, graphic designing, literature and photography. I developed the eye that lust for aesthetic creativity. In good time I was able to have my taste of music and movies (I quickly realized how screwed up our film industry is). Yes studying accounting is a hostile environment for artists and visionaries but thanks God I made it through all the way to its ultimate goal of having that elusive license.
But there’s always a part of our lives when we experience drought. This time my writing and the rest of the artistic wanderlust came to a halt when I have my first job – and the first taste of depression. Quarter life crisis visited my life. I couldn’t fool myself anymore that I am now an accountant, not some artist nonsense as they said. There’s a huge difference from studying and practicing accountancy. The first one is bearable but the latter it’s hard, it’s boring, and it’s something I couldn’t believe I signed out for. The pay was OK but there’s always the guilt of feeling you’re not giving back what you are paid for. I lost focus and the desire to continue my job so I quit which somehow gave me another shitload of guilt for abandoning the guys who hired me and trusted me. I was depressed big time and I couldn’t even face the world. Oh God knows how long it took me before I started to write and watch a movie once again.
And I found WordPress. My desperate days expired the moment I signed up for an account. I started another blog, this very blog, and I named it in memory of my alter ego. The whole experience of being of being here in WordPress is blissful and productive. I am contented that I can write exciting stories once again and every time I finished one post I can’t wait for the next bit of inspiration to come. Here I was able to gain some accolades from my friends, (oh you are writing again) and even have the fortune of reaching out to other people I never meet before. Through blogging I am able to expand my writing to a new height and at the same time taking photography with it.
Maybe one of these days I could start drawing once again, not just drawing for the moment, but drawing because it is what defines who I am.
Oh it’s so damn good to be inspired. And the next time I go for a juice I’ll make sure it’s nowhere near the expiration date.