loser

Everything is ruined. And it is all my fault.

My mother and I have so much planned for this year. We are set to move in to our new house this May. The house blessing was set to coincide with the graduation party, mama’s promotion party and a family reunion. Afterwards, we were planning to go to Boracay or perhaps, a trip abroad.

But that will not happen. Well at least one isn’t.

This summer, I wanted to go to all the parties and out of town gimmicks without worrying that I still have some unfinished business to attend to. I wanted to get drunk and wasted and not be guilty about it. I wanted to spend this summer carefree, fulfilled and proud.

But I won’t.

Because I am not going to graduate.

The incubation period for my concept took too long. It took me about 3 months just to arrive at a viable story, a meta-narrative. And when I finally got it down on paper, it wasn’t for a screenplay after all.

“It would make a very interesting novel -- one that borrows heavily from Chari Lucero.”

Unfortunately…

“But it's too diffuse and sprawling for a screenplay, which needs to be tight. You're thinking in words, not images/scenes.”

And that …

“A feature film is more like a short story than a novel. You still have a lot of work to do, unless you shift to Creative Writing.”

I’m not only working on a story for the wrong medium, now, I’m also a plagiarist. Of course I can always say that we have the same topic (the Suludnon tribe of Panay and a story about story-telling) and that parallelisms and similarities are bound to happen. But then, who will believe me? Rosario Lucero has a number of literary awards under her name, including 2 Palanca 1st Prize awards. And I, what do I have? Not a single thing.

So what do I do? I change my story – 4 days after the designated date for the submission of screenplays. I changed the story because I thought if I made something that resembled a short story instead of a novel, I would still be able to make it. I was hoping that a petition to the thesis coordinator and the department chair would do the trick as long as I have done something that is worthy of my mentor’s signature.

But what happens? My mentor gets pissed-off at me. And for very good reasons. I have been pestering him during the break with emails upon emails of ideas about the thesis, pleading for help even if I myself clearly know that I was hoping for nothing less than the impossible. I can’t even call those emails drafts. They were more like scratch papers. And after being kind enough to actually read ALL of my emails, sharing his thoughts and comments regarding the concept and the storyline, when he should have been resting and enjoying the break, I suddenly change my story. Since what I submitted to him was something I snatched from the top of my head, it was bound to be sub-par. It has a story, but the point wasn’t clear enough. Also, as my mentor made it very clear, it was far from the concept that the department approved.

And so I stare at my monitor, typing this post, not knowing what to do next. My mother hasn’t arrived yet and I bet the news would… actually, I don’t know how my mother will react to the news. I think she has been in enough disappointment for more than a year now that another unwelcome news wouldn’t all be too surprising. She might have been more shocked if our new house wasn’t finished by this week.

I have failed. And I have failed terribly, miserably. I have failed my friends who gave their support all the way. I have failed my mentor who has been patient and considerate with me. I have failed my mother who has given all her love despite everything – trusting me that I can finally fulfill her dreams by actually finishing college, at long last. I have failed my self as an artist. I shouldn’t be calling myself that! I don’t deserve the label. Artists are smart people. Artists are successful people, maybe not always on the financial side, but they are successful nonetheless. Artists are happy and fulfilled. Artists have something to impart to the world and to humanity. Artists are not losers.

I have failed. And I am going to fail Projco2, going to get a O.O for the second time, in five tries, in two years.

I am a loser. Because I think so.

***

I am really NOT in a good mood right now. Please, if YOU have nothing sensible to say, it would be better to leave me sulk in my depression. I still consider this blog my personal space although it is by no means a private webpage. You say YOU mean well. Thanks. But my friends are more important to me than your intentions. They have already proven their intentions through the simple fact that THEY ARE MY FRIENDS.

I DON’T KNOW YOU. Although you can obviously get the attention of other people, being rude won't make you interesting. YOU have already caused me and my friends so much trouble. Please STOP bothering them. I hope YOU understand.