her thoughts fall like chocolate raindrops

I recently graduated from college with a bachelor’s degree in English Literature. And before I had any time to celebrate my victory and happiness, and much less, claim the much deserved rest from 16 years of rigorous academic work, my evil-incarnate slash mother decided to ground me and nag about finding a job, instead of ‘wasting money’ on my ballet studies (which is practically the heart beat of my life and raison d’etre). And that’s just a sneak preview of the crimes against yours truly, accounted for by cruella de ville. You want her autograph? Just ring me up, and you’ll get certified proof of the ugly truth of her existence.

So I’ve been spending the past 2 days researching online for possible job openings with almost every company seeking the same damned thing: money. Everybody is just concerned and preoccupied–nay, obsessed with profit! It’s not even normal for a society of human beings anymore! See, for instance, Unilever’s qualifications for fresh graduates seeking work with the company:

“They must want to win more consumers, more brand loyalty, and make more great products.They must have a growth mindset, consumer and customer focus, bias for action, and embrace accountability and responsibility. More importantly, they must stay hungry for success”

Ambition has its limitations. This, for me, crosses the line of what is considered sane ambition and vision for a company’s growth to converting young people into greedy bastards. Sure, their website stresses environmental sustainability and corporate social responsibility, but when I see the same thing written all over the profiles of so many other companies, it’s just despicable.

Now, I may just be a bitter person who can’t find a job because I graduated from a humanities course, but I’d like to point out that the problem is not who I am, but what has become of society’s values, it’s humanity. And I’m glad, proud even that I am not part of that pool of people who consider economic growth and financial happiness as a caliber of a society’s well-being. Which is why I was quite amazed that I found these posters from the 4Humanities blog which advocated a defense of the Arts & Humanities amidst an asphyxiating culture of commerce (http://humanistica.ualberta.ca/). I am thankful that I am not alone, and that I am not crazy for having such thoughts.

Check out these awesome posters I found on the blog. Spread the word, if you must

If you loved anything related to the humanities, I’m sure you could sympathize not only with me, but also with the people behind this movement. I found so many other posters. You could check it out at the blog.

At one point today, I teared up when I was reading one of those standard advice columns about job hunting or searching. Such pieces of advices are so common in the web that I don’t even remember the exact site, so I can’t even quote it here. But you sure do know it and have heard of it many times before, and it was probably because of my emotional baggage (emotional abuse from cruella) while job hunting that I (un)consciously teared up when I read that one sentence that went something like this: If you decide to take on a job, do it for yourself, not for your parents, superiors, friends–nobody. It’s an age old adage about not having to please everyone or anyone, but finding your own way even if others thinking it’s, well, stupid and senseless.

So I tried to imagine what I really wanted, regardless of what my parents wanted for me. And I sort of saw a picture of myself living a dream that I never knew about. It’s too long for me to describe, but ‘the dream’ does have a lot to do with escaping to Europe and pursuing my background in the arts, culture, and humanities there.

And because finding a job is not only a material and practical necessity but an emotional and psychological one as well, I think it’s safe to say that it is inextricably linked to our pursuit of happiness. Of course, realistically, not everyone gets the dream job that would make them happy. There are the lucky ones (and I personally think those people’s luck came not from the stars nor from their own hard work alone, but from a good upbringing, ahem, from parents who raised them well).

So let me get straight to the point I want to make. I think that happiness is that state of being when a person no longer feels the dreaded need to please anyone/everyone but is perfectly content with who/what she is/does/has. On one angle, this sounds a little buddhist: passive acceptance of the world and oneself as it or one is. Yes, I do think that is a part of what I discovered today for myself. But I don’t think that passive acceptance always works, and I certainly try to steer clear of any extreme form of ‘philosophy’ or -isms. Hence, I also think it is possible to desire, and more specifically, to desire for oneself. Here’s the tricky part. By ‘desire’, I am certainly not referring to the greed that fuels this profit oriented society and that compels an individual to accumulate wealth for herself. Instead, I’d like to believe, at least for me, that in our heart of hearts, we are all still children with the same simple dreams of becoming a police officer, a teacher, a fireman, a carpenter, and all those other jobs that never seemed like jobs but were fun. As we grow up, however, we begin to see that there is no money in such pursuits, and therefore, no real happiness, and much worse, no dignity.

So am I saying that we should all ditch our plans to be businessmen and investors and revert to our childhood plans? Of course not. I am saying that I wish people wouldn’t be afraid or insecure to pursue the simple sources of happiness and pleasure. I wish the economy and society’s new values wouldn’t force people to abandon what they really want to do just because it doesn’t make money. And more than that, I wish people would not be ashamed to pursue their passion in the arts and humanities or any other job that is usually looked down upon (especially if these jobs help pay for studies in the arts and humanities). Because the truth is, I wouldn’t mind working as a waitress in a coffee shop somewhere in Europe. I wouldn’t mind working as a bartender, saleslady, cashier, clerk, assistant secretary or cook, and other jobs involving menial work, simply because I think these ‘jobs’ would allow me to maintain my humanity. I could live with a stable income and live a simple life somewhere in France. I wish I could do these things without feeling ashamed or without feeling like I am shaming and disappointing my parents who have unreasonably high expectations of me. Who are they to expect so much when they gave so little anyway?

I admire the brave souls who have gone against the current. As for me, I can only hope that I can do the same. And I certainly don’t want to lament with these same words in the near or far future.

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spent the whole day cooped up in my room reading. well, at least trying to. i can’t believe it took me a whole day to finish 1/8 of a regular novel and a few handouts. what an uneventful day.

i wonder if this is a taste or a preview of the life i’ll have as a law student and then later on (hopefully?) as a practicing lawyer. in a room. with papers.

it is the story of my life. i spent so many years in this home. stayed in the same elementary and high school. currently on my senior–my last year in college and with prospects (hopefully?) of 4 years in law school or graduate school. my life. in a room. with papers.

if there’s any image or symbol that could best describe my life as i see it now would be no other than a prison. a cell. i’ve always been overprotected. no one bothered to figure out what my in born talent could possibly be much less put me in school to hone whatever that ‘talent’ might be. in my childhood years, all i remember is simply spending entire summer vacations in front of the television every single day until school started when i’d come home from a monotonous, or rather, robotic day at class–the same old thing happening over and over again for about 11 years straight. and then return to the same oppressive idleness for the upcoming summer ‘vacation’.

there were times i rebelled against my parents’ strict rules, but in my heart, i know that i am not a fighter. many events and situations i found myself in later in my years as a growing adult showed me that i’d prefer to run away than have to deal with people i don’t get along with. and that was the irony. i believed there were places in the world i could hide in but i knew i’d most likely never get a chance to see those places what with my parents keeping me in this house, this house that signifies what made me and what destroyed me at the same time. i could always run to my room and lock myself in it and the only consolation would be my wild imagination taking me to places far from where i was. my room was my prison and solace.

perhaps that’s what i find so alluring and comforting about my passion: ballet. the art of ballet allows the dancer, ideally, to express herself. but it isn’t a free art. what i mean is, the dancer, very much like the poet, has to master technique, the rules of the art and express those emotions through them. the dancer and every artist for that matter is one who must find balance between artistry and technique. the strictures of dance provide the familiarity and morbid comfort of the small and cramped world life i live and the passion i feel when i dance transports me at the same time to a world where i can feel and taste freedom.

and ballet, very much like this room, this house, this life is very possessive. it’s an art that demands complete devotion and sacrifices. it’s all or nothing. and i feel i’ve spent, no, wasted much of my life living in this repressed state.

it isn’t fair. in my head, i hear voices saying, ‘well, a waterfall flows freely and wildly because it is’ or ‘a volcano always erupts’. i know those are lame attempts at formulating aphorisms. but in any case, the point is i don’t want to believe that one day i’ll just explode like some psychopath and demand my right to freedom and independence from anyone and everyone. that would be depressing. i also don’t want to believe that i’d have to fight for my freedom. can i just have it? because i feel like no matter what i do, i never will because of my past which creeps behind me, holding me in chains.

all i want to do is see the world. i’d like to escape my reality now and just meet new people, discover new cultures. i’d like a new environment. i have so much to say. i don’t want to live here in this country. i feel like everyone has a severe case of either superiority or inferiority complex. everyone just wants to be better than everyone. everyone tries hard to be someone they’re not. everyone is just a copycat. no one seems real or true. and i just want to run away from it all. i have no idea who i am in this world where everyone and everything is an imitation. i have no idea what’s real, and my mind, body, and soul refuses to assimilate the fake, the bogus, the unreal. i’ve had enough. i want my own identity. i want my own independence, my freedom. i want to run away from it all.

but i know it’s not enough to just want it. it’s a cruel world to live in. and it’s nothing like the movies. will i be going around in circles all my life? i only have one life, for pete’s sake. and it doesn’t seem anything like the life i want at all.

i wish i could trade it all. i wish i grew up in a different home. i wish i could have a second chance at childhood.

i’m not going to conclude with some wise and enlightening insight. this isn’t a magazine. this is what i feel. these are my hopes, my wishes, my frustrations, nothing more. i carry them with me all day as i eat my breakfast, endure the long drive to school, attend the same classes with the same people, and agonize over the mountains of school work that mean everything in the eyes of a world obsessed with success and accomplishments, but mean absolutely nothing in my own world, and in any sensible human’s concept of true happiness for that matter.

and when i finish writing this blog, or whatever you’d like to call it, i’ll return to the same dreary and monotonous life. i don’t pray. call it a loser mentality if you wish, but after all this rambling, all i can say is i think i just need a friend.