Rantglass - because that's how things are.


It's just a bloody rejection...

It’s just a bloody rejection, for goodness sake!

I have been receiving words of comfort and encouragement from quite a number of people regarding my souless state after my photography assignment was rejected last Thursday – and I would like to thank those involved for it. However, I have been constantly chiding myself for being so whiny and sighing every now and then (at the rate I am going, I could have easily turned five hundred years old by now) whenever I think about it. Perhaps luck has got something to do with it – and I just am not lucky enough to be able to please this particular picky and meticulous lecturer. I have begun to label him as fickle, too – one of the pictures that was tossed aside on Thursday has actually been approved by him two weeks ago, during the consultation hours – and that is what makes it all more painful. Saying yes to something he would not agree to at the very last minute? That was like being left in the church aisle. All the time you thought you had secured one good man for your own, one that everyone likes and approves of – only to know at the eleventh hour that he changed his mind and decided to hike off to Tibet with a woman fifty years his senior, to seek out the Dalai Lama in order to find the meaning of life.

Goodness, what is it with these.. silly metaphors.

I do not know why, but it seemed so unreal to me. I kept thinking that it was only a bad dream, one that I could awaken out of; and to continue on my everyday life as usual. It was not to be, though. I did not wake up, because it had, in fact, happened in reality. I think I sound stupid there, but heck. What is reality anyway? Certainly just not something to be called that, only because you can experience it with your five senses, and literally so. If these three rolls of slides I shot during the weekend still did not meet up to his mark, I do not know what else would. I am certainly not a professional photographer, and I do not have the desire to be one, either. Dreading it, killing me.

Then there is this uneasy feeling in me which creeps into me for a short moment or so – that I have unwillingly been included into his ‘potential problematic students’ list; his black book – because of something I did after the submission of the assignment (and no, I did not threaten him or whatever) – but I will not elaborate here.

Here is wishing that we will all have a good week ahead. Are the horoscope predictions for this week helpful enough? I know most of us do not rely and believe in them – but sometimes it is simply harmless to indulge yourself in a few flowery words which would pretty much sum up if your days ahead would be smooth sailing – or if you might be better off at home staying away from moving vehicles and our flying feathered friends.

I do not want to be striked by lightning, although it might enable me to regain a 20/20 vision or produce bolts of fire out of my fingertips.

On air now: Losing Grip, Avril Lavigne (Let Go, 2002)

Details of this entry.Sunday, October 20, 2002, filed under Blogger Archives.
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