153. Faust

I got hired today, and I don’t know why the hell I even agreed to it. I guess it sounded like a good idea at that time, but after a few hours of realizing what I’d just done, I just feel like stabbing myself. With a fork.

If intelligence is in the brain and love in the heart, then passion must be in the soul. The reason I went for the interview in the first place was because I was told the pay would be good; and now here I am. I’ve sold my soul for a little bit of money. I’ve pawned off my passion for a gold-plated, hollow career.

All this is, again, needlessly dramatic. I’ll get over it. But there’s that sinking feeling that I’ve just betrayed myself and everything I said I believed in. I said I believed in living a life that I’m passionate about. I said I wanted to write, even if the pay is shitty and the hours are long. I said I’ll never want to do a typical office job.

Just take a look at me now.

Part of me wants to kindly tell the good man that this all has been a terrible mistake, and I cannot bring myself to take up on his offer. However irrational, it would help ease my conscience and end this cognitive dissonance. But at the same time, I know I’ll be disappointing a lot of people if I turn back now. It’s probably best that I be the one disappointed instead of them.

12 hours later, I still feel like stabbing myself.

This is bullshit. I’ve done every reasonable thing I could: I threw myself into the world of entertainment; I’ve read the books; I’ve done the homework; I’ve done the preliminary works; I’ve met the people – what am I missing? Why isn’t life turning out the way I imagined it to be? Far from the perfect picture, this is everything I’ve consciously rejected this whole time. This is the leap off the slippery slope.

Unfair, unfair, unfair. Why is it that, after trying so hard and doing so much, I still find myself in this place, as though it was all for nothing? People have gotten much further without working nearly as hard.

Maybe is the adult in me making a sensible choice for once? It’s not as though I received any other offers; and hey, money. With an unemployment rate of 3.3%, there are some 100,000 Malaysians wandering around with no jobs. I grabbed the opportunity when I saw it, and I can always move on if and when a better offers comes rolling by.

My rational mind is appeased, but my damn heart simply won’t let go of the picture of Faust striking his fateful deal with the devil, giving his soul away in one hand, and receiving riches in the other. I’ve never asked for fame, or riches, or beautiful women (although they would be very nice to have); only that I be allowed to tell stories and make a living out of it. It’s apparently too much to ask for.

Work starts this Thursday, January 2nd, 2014. I am become Faust, and I cannot find my soul anymore.


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