Saturday, September 6, 2014

cathartic process of giving a birth to some works


".. a process of story telling is a cathartic process.." -Benedict Cumberbatch on Stuart-A Life Backwards Interview

it is... cathartic. The headache, the body function that failed to accommodate the responsibilities of carrying on what I have in life. My job, my daily needs and responsibilities. I want to go out of all of them. Take a day off or two. Being sick of daily routines facing the same idiots. The superior who can't face the reality that his and her employees are limited in the amount and in the skills (am having fun talking about people's negative traits) that I tried so hard to add more people to my department to be trained by me, yet she always slows me down, or facing my donkey brain subordinate who always makes the same mistakes over and over made me even more stupid to tell him over and over about the same mistakes. I had enough with every student that goes into my English department is only my privilege to teach, also now I teach math (I did remember I ask only teaching English, and that I avoid math and physics which consumate my brain and erase important places that I should put English in it). I hardly ever sit in my own desk to do other 2 divisions' agenda. Insufficient salary for triple jobs. Great, I wouldn't do it if I hadn't got the scholarship and now on my way to a bigger place with more salary in the job. I'm sick of everything that's in my life right now. Well, obviously except for Dale, the gorgeous son of mine. and even Dale, I can't be with him at the moment because of the stupid creature that left us in which I refer to Dale's father.

The cathartic process is always there when I have the urge to give a birth to some works. Yesterday painting, writing, movie, and video clips are in the line of my results after having the cathartic process. I remember even giving birth to Dale wasn't this scary and draining alot of energy. Now, stack of papers of lesson plans can give me the cathartic feeling and in the same time makes me drown in never ending happiness. I have no idea how I ended as being an English teacher. Those journeys of having relationship with arts (except music-was forbidden for me as my singer mother's daughter) from painting, writing, making movies (don't bother to measure how stupid I am that I'm not that into the history of arts except for movies that the bliss of ignorance from not knowing about others' works is a way for me to make myself thrilled by nonsense and feel free to produce anything without the worrying of committing plagiarism), then architecture made me realize, What am I doing here in the world of arts if in the end I only being an English teacher which is an effective way of never study and work for the rest of my life because all I need to do is just browsing and finishing everything in English which is my way in watching movies. I actually never work anymore, nowadays. I don't need to think rapidly how to finish some writings when my editor shouted in my inboxes all the time about the deadlines, or when I have to cast some unskilled people to fit in the characters. Arrgghhh... I wish I could clon Ben and also make some female versions of him to be put as my actors and actreesses, hahah. At that time I don't need to waste weeks of searching the right person for the characters, and I don't need to play myself to play the twisted split personality character role who acts as lesbian, peacemaker, bestfriend, caring person, and a fake hero(with Linkin Park soundtrack-gosh,it was so cool) at the same time. It was that funny that all people around me forced me to finish the script and forced me to create this nonsense role of ambiguous characters in a female version that in the end I'm the one who acted it.

It was cathartic to give birth to some pages of poems or essays about my past to inspire people and then to be posted in Facebook or my blog just to clear the mind to get on with the life I have. It took days of filthy activities not paying attention to my own health and hygiene. and after that I had to take a bath like 3 times a day to get back to another me which was always ready to have sex. It is cathartic, to toss away this one page of junkthought to clear my mind and go on with my lesson plans. Finish them, Vina! finish them! aren't you the Dale-functioning sociopath?! Finish them! Take the money, and travel to your gorgeous son.    


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