Just a little bit more...

     I'm sitting here wondering what's going on. Every single detail of everything that I want to accomplish... clouding my mind so that I can't remember what I was suppose to focus on. Finish Drowning, finish showreel, work on documentary, get ready for Raspberry Magic which is shooting in a week, I tell myself : "just a little more, a little bit more effort and your there." I'm burned, mind is frying from all the small things i have to accomplish in order to finish the big one. It's 3am again and I am still awake, trying to finish something, trying to think of new ideas, trying to be better than the next guy by a little bit, trying to improve myself a little more... I feel the chill now, alcohol's kicking in, thank goodness. Now I can finally think while my mind unwinds and takes a break from the thousands of synapses. I start thinking about people, how we survive, how we look at the world, and I see that the older we get, the better we get at manipulating ourselves. We manipulate ourselves so that we don't go insane; so that we may live in this world through all the good, bad, and not kill ourselves.

     And many times we manipulate ourselves into believing in ourself, because we know that if we don't, then no one else will. One of man's biggest fear is failure; I'd like to put it as "losing the will to succeed". No matter how big or small our goals are, if one day you stopped believing in what you are selling, your done. This is what impresses me about the older salesman who have been doing sales for decades and still believe in their product. I find it so hard that after so many years that they can still maintain that type of belief, even if it's feigned. How tough would that be, selling cars for 20-30 years, during the good, bad, mediocre times, and all this time believing that you'll sell the next one and being genuine to everyone that walks through your door; they are the best actors. What if they stopped believing? What would happen? I ask myself "what if I stopped believing? what would happen to me?" shrug. I'm not big on drinking alone, but I needed the buzz tonight, so that my mind can slow down and forget all the tasks on hand. It's hard to maintain focus on your main goal when the small things get at you and take all of your time and effort. I think the hardest part about making a film is remembering the very first inspiration that gave you the idea to make the film, and never losing that essence throughout the hectic process of making the film.

     If this was in Shanghai, I wouldn't be sitting at home contemplating, I'd be walking the streets looking for answers walking in the midst of the night's breeze. And for some reason, I usually find the answers to my questions during this process. I usually bring my mp3 player and just walk to where ever, or I'd get on a bus and ride to the end stop and roam around some more, at times not knowing where I am, but never caring, I'm in my other world, walking without thinking about walking while subconsciously entering a different dimension, my mind gets in a zone and I can focus clearly on my thoughts while blurts of images enter my brain. Some people call that inspiration, I don't know what I call it, it feels like I'm absorbing the soul of the city, the soul of where ever I am, a spiritual journey. Everything I see becomes inspiration... people may call that a natural high, the way my eyes see things, everything comes alive, from the little boy with one arm begging for change on the subway, to the Filipino female singer singing English songs at a local pub, the sensitivity in my brain is magnified and I begin seeing things, imagining stories, feeling the life of that boy with one arm, everyday, getting on the same subway, begging for change, looking into the faces of strangers with no compassion who avoid my eye contact for fear of guilt, getting on my knees and waving around a cup in front of the person I think may spare some change for me, feeling his life, and then I start seeing his life unfold in visual images: the kid jumping the entrance and exits of subways so he doesn't have to pay the fare, eating noodles at the closest Xinjiang noodle place for 5rmb, and enjoying those noodles with tiny bits of lamb pieces, and thinking to himself "i wish there was more lamb meat... heck, what do you expect for 5 rmb? maybe one day if i am rich, I will order a bowl of noodles and tell the boss to add extra meat and tell him I will pay extra, that'd be the day", sleeping at the subway station with a blanket, in the middle of the night, before he sleeps, he asks if there is a God in this world, if anyone can see and feel his pain, if anyone loves him.

     And that Filipino female singer, how she must feel after every show singing to a crowd who really aren't there for her singing, and asking herself "what am I doing here at age 32 singing English songs at a bar in Shanghai?", this girl who once had aspirations to be a pop star, now singing at local pubs in a different country where she doesn't even understand the local language. How her husband is back home in the Philippines working  his butt off and taking care of their daughter. She calls home twice a week, so that she remembers she has a family; something to sing for. No longer holding onto her dream, she now sings to live, to support her family, her daughter, so that she may one day have a shot at a better life than hers. Once filled with optimism, once a queen in her own right, now reduced to a mercenary singer.  

     These journeys have no ends, and I am allowed into these worlds that are not my own. I'd like to get back into this world, and see the stories that occur there and bring it back with me to our world and put it on a movie screen for people to see, to share it with the world.

      However, the BS of life takes away a lot of this luxury I call it " the other world". Every story I see, I hope to grab onto it and never let go... so that I won't forget it. At times I write it down and try to tell myself "don't let this one go, this could be a great! People will love it!" And at times, I lose them. I wish these images and stories would slow down so that I may record the, and stay in my brain a little longer, just a little bit more for me to understand it... so that I may be able to paint it on a canvas and show it to the world. I ask too much of myself, trying to accomplish too much, and I am so hard on myself that I don't give myself a break It's all taking a toll and I'm losing my focus. I can't wait for my film to be done, I can't wait for my website to done, I can't wait for a lot of things, but I have to. I have no choice. I have to wait and let time take its course. I don't want to. But I must.  Ok, I think I'm drunk, my eyes are getting watery for some reason, and my head is throbing now, time to sleep. Tomorrow I will awake and go on finishing the tasks I must accomplish tho I wish I didn't have to. And all this time, manipulating myself with "you will get there! keep at it, your hard work will pay off, I promise you, just a little bit more, you can do it..." I'm tired... but i must go on, when i go to bed in a few minutes, I will be thinking of how to structure my showreel, how to structure my doc, oh boy... it's 3:20am and I need to get up for a meeting in a few hours. I sleep now, and hope i have a good dream and can forget about the realities of life. I'll test my luck and see what happens... buzz wearing off, time to get between the sheets. Peace ya'll.