The Notebook. The Lion King – almost all the Disney classics but definitely all the Pixar movies. I used to watch The Matrix trilogy a lot on DVD, I was glued to the screen when watching LOTR Extended versions on DVD, I have played Spider-Man 1 and 2 countless times, and I enjoy the slightly vulgar rom-coms like The Ugly Truth but also enjoy the light-hearted ones like When Harry Met Sally. I love Madagascar 1 and especially 2, and Kungfu Panda too. I also love dramas like The Illusionist and Catch Me If You Can. And all the Christopher Nolan movies and all of Hollywood’s superhero movies. I also like Bruce Almighty because it’s so funny it made me cry so much I fell down from my seat when I was watching in the theatre. I don’t have a particular favorite movie – there are plenty of movie buffs like me too, I’m pretty sure, perhaps even buffer than me. But I hate thriller and horror movies.
Anyway, let’s get back to reality. I’ve just reposted an old note I wrote on Facebook here on this blog. I learned that I’ve been a hypocrite, not just this instance, though; of course, there are so many times that I realized that. It just never really turned out to matter a lot for me until I read back this Note entry on Facebook.
There’s a whole conventional current that people rode off on the mainstream, water rushing like a blue streak, claiming that they’re happy in this over-scrutinized, over-publicized, and constantly trying to please everyone except themselves in this life, but if they’re so happy, why do they have the blues all the time?
If you haven’t familiarize yourself with my blog, you’re going to learn that I’ve been depressed for some time now, for a couple of years at least. I realized that most of the time, especially in work settings, other people’s opinions are more important to me than my own. And I’m in blue all the time. As time goes by, I feel more inferior to others and less able to speak up. Maybe it’s the effect of growing up: You learn to go with the conventional current and accept their opinions as your own, then you self-compromise and you learned that you can’t change your own philosophy and then you torment yourself with this struggle to believe what others believe – until the end, when you don’t know what to believe anymore.
Most people are other people. Their thoughts are someone else’s opinions, their lives a mimicry, their passions a quotation. - Oscar Wilde
I am already tired of the pretensions I have to put up all the time; I don’t enjoy drawing as much as I like to write. If I have to do an artwork, I’ll plan every step like I write concrete images into descriptive words, and then I get too perfectionistic and fall in love with the details that I don’t have time to finish the piece in due time. And then the artwork becomes labor for me. Unlike words, illustrating narrative lines involves not the compromise you have to do for others; it’s in fact the total expression of your soul, so you fight for what you believe in in a laborious effort to produce something beautiful. Words, however, is a form of craft. You take pieces here and there, you lead using a single paragraph just below the heading line, you tweak the pieces into another language of your own, and you get a piece of article that connects the writer’s thoughts to the reader’s emotions. You create the same opinion, you join souls into one community, and you rejoice in that universal truth you’re speaking through that piece.
Now, years passed, and I compromised too much about myself because I listened to many different beliefs, and many different truths that are somewhat or really different from mine. I long to find the just, the eternal, the enduring. I know that I’m still a picky person and I recently regretted ever cultivating that trait of mine that’s now becoming a permanent characteristic. I lowered my standards in myself and in everything else, because I realized my standards was too high before and that’s how I brought myself down to the depression era I had. Then I saw that I concluded the Facebook Note on perfectionism with this:
And there’s actually nothing wrong about being picky, as long as you don’t lie to yourself about having something with a heart of 50% and enduring the feeling for the rest of your life, knowing that there’s something else out there, and instead fly solo and be everything you want to be and live the life you already have to the fullest! Because being picky always bring the best (and worst) out of ya…
And the truth is, I’ve been lying to myself for about 5-6 years now. Yes, I enjoy making art, but not as my career. I claimed I wanted to work for huge companies in the Bay Area but I didn’t have that passion. I have passions for other things, like becoming an author or a novelist, or an entrepreneur owning a publishing house, or working as a staff writer for a national magazine, or volunteer to perform readings for children and write my experience about it while taking note (pictures) about their cuteness. The truth is, I am having a Bachelor’s degree in art with a heart of 50% and enduring the feeling the rest of my life, except that after graduation I will turn that path into the road not taken. Throughout my college life, I thought I was just a lazy person who never go to the free drawing workshops and all the fun extracurricular activities involving drawing. I thought that I study people’s faces and drawing things under observations ever since I was a kid because I intrinsically like drawing. But no – given various writing assignments for the last couple of years, incidentally during my junior and senior years now in college, I realized that I’m a friggin’ hardworking person. It doesn’t matter if I get the extra credit or not, but I did it anyway. It doesn’t matter if it’s a mid-term paper, but I learned a lot from writing out the blues in “The Blue In Black And White“. I don’t do it for the credits but for the assignments itself, which I enjoy doing. It’s a like a quest of your own to discover for yourself, which I’m guessing it’s why the English word for it is called a ‘quest-ion’. I’m such a hypocrite that I tell people don’t do things half-heartedly that I am precisely doing it right now.
“I don’t understand how we’ve got writing assignments from school already and you’re still seeking to answer essay questions for a hobby,” my brother once told me. Exactly. It’s like I can’t understand how these people keep getting their sketchbooks out and just start drawing, and keep on drawing for long hours with such a spirited face. That’s what I see everyday, going to school, feeling so left out, feeling so f***ed up, all because I realized I’m living a lie.
It is only in drawing half-heartedly and not remain a perfectionist that I can finish my big drawing assignments on time while at the same time committing to writing 100% all the time, 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. It is only through finishing my last few classes through graduation that I can finally break free from the prison I set up 5 years ago for the sole purpose of impressing others other than myself. Private college tuitions for as long as 5+ years was the price I had to pay for doing something untrue to my authentic self, and I don’t want that to happen to others who are pursuing their dreams.
And if somebody had to make a movie of your life, I’d better be the best actor there ever was for my role starting from today. Because if it’s adapted into a movie, it must be a pretty damn good story.
I just don’t want to be a hypocrite anymore.