Indulgence

the last hurrah before everything starts

Kitchie Nadal from Fire
You will seek him with all your heart, soul and strength
You'll count all the cost as you walk out the door
Without a warning you'll set the world on fire!

Dad left today for Bacolod. I won't see him again until work brings him round again to here. While I now have the room all to myself, I should be doing backflips in glee, I find myself feeling a little more empty. I should have stopped watching television and given up on the game that refuses to install properly and slept relatively early last night that way I could've spent more time with him before he left. It's always on the way out that you actually remember the things you want to say to someone.

We've had a good couple of months, at least 3 or 4, to have said what we really wanted to but somehow, they wouldn't have compared to any conversation we would have had this morning had I been awake. There is something to be said about the immediacy of the advent of leaving. It grants weight to your thoughts and words.

Patience has given me a gift and things are looking up again. Of course, it is no promise of flight, but at least my head is up and there is something to look at. Something tangible that I can try and make it work. I can make it work. Whether this allows me to leave for a few days and see a different part of the world or it ends up throwing money at my lap and the corresponding work, I don't really care. These are all stepping stones to where I want to go.

No more jerking around, no more wasted time. I will come back with my head straight on and my heart dead-set on coming out with dirty hands, a bleeding heart and a script worth producing. It begins now.

But first off, I have a fire spinning gig later for a thesis defense and later tonight I leave for Cagbalete, an island where I will spend the Holy Week with old friends. I won't be back until Sunday, hopefully with pictures of our forays into indulgence, which is always the case, and maybe a new set of sunburn.

I'm ready to explode with the anxiety of having to make something out of this year. It's not like last year where I worked on a level of commitment to my job and doing all that needed to be done because I was part of a system. That is not the case now. I am my only system and if I don't do anything, regardless of the promise of work, then nothing will become of me. I want to be a writer, so whether or not I have a producer, I will start churning out scripts.

I am no machine so I won't churn out scripts like some fantasy machine thinking up of the possibilities and just heading forward. Instead, I will be a creator, my own little god, telling the stories of the possibilities and little realities where things go the way they should, so one can laugh or cry or feel something akin to hope or loss.

There will be no more wasted time.

posted by wanggo @ 2:07 PM