Movie is Over

I miss that particular time in my life, I think from age ten to eighteen, when I felt like I’m from the movies…I was the lead, needless to say, the people close to me were the supporting actors,and everyone else were just extras. If you’ve felt this way before, you’d automatically get me and give me a high five; If you have no clue what I’m talking about, you’d think I’m nuts.

I used to wake up everyday with an imaginary camera rolling. I would feel giddy with the plot (which was, of course, unknown to me…but there were times when I tried to force my own narrative especially those scenes involving crushes)…and I felt like everything I said was witty and quotable, perfect bites for the trailer. In gradeshool, I was Alex Mack. In High School, I was Kat Stratford. My character in college was no one in particular but I was trying to imbibe “the damaged girl”. I used to feel like I was one of those anorexic, depressive artsy types who smoke twenty cigarettes a day and spit out ten cuss words a minute. Not that I used to smoke twenty cigarettes a day (the average number was just five)… and neither did I cuss ten per minute (I rarely cuss)… But you know, just that kind of vibe. Think Thelma and Louise, Kate Moss, Amanda Palmer, Mila Kunis (in Black Swan), Diane from Trainspotting, Courtney Love. I used to feel like I belong to that group.

When I think about it now, I can say that I was definitely pushing it too far. Haha. When you see me, back then and especially now, you’d say “eh??” I’m the type who wears floral prints and lipstick. And my voice is so soft people keep asking me to repeat my words. and as I’ve said, I rarely cuss. I’m not too good at confrontation, debate and fighting back. I used to smoke and drink and well, I was very much into the arts but only as a lover, not a maker. I never lived my life too dangerously like in the movies. I have no suicidal tendencies. Yes, I majored in film but I have never really made anything I can even show to my parents (who are, for years, curious where their money went and what my future would look like). So…I never really was close to being that girl. But I felt really…I felt really interesting back then. And also, full of hope, full of promise, full of potential.

I miss the feeling that I’m broke (but because I’m still a student, poverty is interesting). I miss being too absorbed in a novel or mix CD that I don’t care about anyone (being antisocial was cool back then). And I actually miss being heartbroken. Oh the deep sadness of not being loved back by the one person you truly adore (but in hindsight, I just loved the drama. I cried and those were real tears and real sadness but one part of me enjoyed the misery).

In your late twenties, it’s the reas deal, no excuses permitted. When you’re broke or heartbroken or angsty, it doesn’t make you interesting; it makes you a candidate for Ms. Miserable 2018. These used-to-be-interesting things like having a “unique” personality or being poor or having a paralyzing heartache simply lost their luster between the ages 23-26 and they now become everyday grown-up things you have to deal with on the sidelines, in secret, as quickly as possible.

Now it’s all about being polished and fit and having white teeth and achieving goals and being financially stable and a million other grown-up things.

Seems like the camera ran out of film, the soundtrack was turned off, and everyone has left the set. When did the clapper clap off? I didn’t hear it. Was it so slow that it didn’t make a sound or was I too busy with the noise that I didn’t hear it or was it so loud that it became inaudible?

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EDIT: Oh my god, this quote nailed it:

“I didn’t realize then that so much of being adult is reconciling ourselves with the awkwardness and strangeness of our own feelings. Youth is the time of life lived for some imaginary audience” 
― Douglas Coupland, Girlfriend in a Coma