Rejection leaves you drained. So drained that you would want the earth to swallow you whole. There was that element of not being the (few) chosen one(s). And that there was that moment of hopes raised high, waiting with abated breath. There were also those mental rehearsals of "Oh! I don't believe this!". And how about the many rehearsed looks of shocks when your name is finally being called? Can't miss that one out! But, most of all, there was crushed ego. And then the awkward silence that followed.
Right now, I feel drained. Drained to the last drop of moist. No, it was not because I walked all the way from Street 22 to Street 13. Walking is as natural as breathing. Walking is as natural as whipping out a stick of cigarette to puff on. Walking is as natural as me going into the studio and start creating something out of nothing. Walking is as natural as me penning words to melody lines. Walking is as natural as me going into a room full of bright-eyed little ones eager to impress and be impressed. Walking is as natural as poking a bunch of adoloscents at the right spots to ensure they produce impressive remarks/ideas. Walking is, most unfortunately, not as natural as being drained.
A friend claimed that it could have been an oversight. I could have been overlooked. Huh? My contributions that tiny? Another told me to be patient. True. Until the cows come home. Another advised me to write an appeal. Nice as it sounded, sorry, I don't do doggy style. A brave one told me to consider my options. WHAT??? AND LEAVE THOSE BUNCH OF EAGER-EYED LITTLE ONES AND EASILY IMPRESSIONABLE ADOLOSCENTS??? .. nice thoughts.. but hey! A glimpse of Monday, 11 August 2008 crept in. That hot afternoon (the air condition was off), Monday, 11 August 2008, gave a smirk. Told you so.. it mouthed.
I am not pinning the blame on anyone under the same roof. We all move towards the same direction. We all share the same goals. We all are looking at the same vision with the same anxious smiles across our faces. No, here, my contributions were well rewarded. My contributions were recognised. But, hell no, I am human. Humans are reward-driven. (read: Maslow's theory of needs). The bigger the reward, the greater the satisfaction.
Sorry, Mr Writer-Composer-Everything-Also-You, said my inner voice. That 5 year time line is still a long way to go. You were driving too fast. Should have dropped a gear or two. Your previous stint with the armed forces and a statutory board counted for nothing. Those songs, scripts, videos, initiatives, ideas, programmes, graphics were expected of you. Simply put, you were just not good enough.
Time line??? Time line my Aunty Annie.
The ball is in my court now.
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