I danced in the rain on my way home and for a moment I was free.
“Do you smell it? It’s the smell of bastards. It’s also the smell of truth. I smell ink.” -Paul Kemp from The Rum Diary by Hunter Thompson
Thank you Mr. Depp. Every single time I see you on the screen, you make me taste every word you say, every emotion you relay, every person you portray.
Tonight, every fibre in my body craved to act again. Oh, how I miss the beauty of translating the language of truth in film.
Tonight, I felt the need to act. It is the most romantic form of escapism. The most honourable form of telling a story. For me, this inexplicable craft is magic.
And of course tonight, there was a tinge of confusion as to why I am here. In school. Away from the lights, camera and story-telling. I know the answer, yet I need not utter the words aloud so the mystery will float through this night as one of the conflicts of my story.
I feel pain. My heart... it is in pain. I breathe deeply to shut down the feeling of pain. But alas! As I inhale the the common air we take in, needles poke my heart as if it was torturing it until it completely stops.
The biggest sacrifice is leaving home. And home is making films. I am an actor, and I plan to die one. I reek with envy to all those people who are waking up and going to sets and undergoing the beautiful metamorphosis of being somebody else... to tell a story.
When the cameras are rolling... I feel the most free. In trance. In a higher plane than reality. It's as if I am part of a universe that knows no boundaries. Oh, my heart is in pain.
People may think that I am here, in London, doing what I want to do. Yes... Everybody is right to think that. Because it is so. But what people may not know is that I killed a part of me when I chose to leave for college. I killed a part of my truth, of my essence. And there's no turning back right now.
After doing Donor, I cried. Tears of gratitude... not of frustration and exhaustion. I am forever grateful to Mark Meily for giving me a chance to really make the most of the word actor. Up to this day, I still dream of roles I would love to portray. I still bathe in visualising scenes I would like to do, lines I would like to deliver and reactions I would love to execute.
I miss it. Acting is my love. And what I am doing here is all brains. They say that sometimes when you grow older, you must your head at certain circumstances rather than your heart. I believe that is what I am doing now. Being wise. Being a grownup. Being mature.
One day... I will be an actress again.
But for now, I focus on my future.
For now, I learn to be selfless because of my son.
He deserves a life that entails the story of both the heart and the brain.
Love and sacrifices.
I know that experiences are the best teacher in life. I would not know how to impart the lesson of sacrifice if I myself not know of it. I would like to be sincere if I tell him to go follow his dreams. I do not intend to fool him with words of empty meanings.
Today, as a parent, this is my sacrifice.
Thank you Mr. Depp. Every single time I see you on the screen, you make me taste every word you say, every emotion you relay, every person you portray.
Tonight, every fibre in my body craved to act again. Oh, how I miss the beauty of translating the language of truth in film.
Tonight, I felt the need to act. It is the most romantic form of escapism. The most honourable form of telling a story. For me, this inexplicable craft is magic.
And of course tonight, there was a tinge of confusion as to why I am here. In school. Away from the lights, camera and story-telling. I know the answer, yet I need not utter the words aloud so the mystery will float through this night as one of the conflicts of my story.
I feel pain. My heart... it is in pain. I breathe deeply to shut down the feeling of pain. But alas! As I inhale the the common air we take in, needles poke my heart as if it was torturing it until it completely stops.
The biggest sacrifice is leaving home. And home is making films. I am an actor, and I plan to die one. I reek with envy to all those people who are waking up and going to sets and undergoing the beautiful metamorphosis of being somebody else... to tell a story.
When the cameras are rolling... I feel the most free. In trance. In a higher plane than reality. It's as if I am part of a universe that knows no boundaries. Oh, my heart is in pain.
People may think that I am here, in London, doing what I want to do. Yes... Everybody is right to think that. Because it is so. But what people may not know is that I killed a part of me when I chose to leave for college. I killed a part of my truth, of my essence. And there's no turning back right now.
After doing Donor, I cried. Tears of gratitude... not of frustration and exhaustion. I am forever grateful to Mark Meily for giving me a chance to really make the most of the word actor. Up to this day, I still dream of roles I would love to portray. I still bathe in visualising scenes I would like to do, lines I would like to deliver and reactions I would love to execute.
I miss it. Acting is my love. And what I am doing here is all brains. They say that sometimes when you grow older, you must your head at certain circumstances rather than your heart. I believe that is what I am doing now. Being wise. Being a grownup. Being mature.
One day... I will be an actress again.
But for now, I focus on my future.
For now, I learn to be selfless because of my son.
He deserves a life that entails the story of both the heart and the brain.
Love and sacrifices.
I know that experiences are the best teacher in life. I would not know how to impart the lesson of sacrifice if I myself not know of it. I would like to be sincere if I tell him to go follow his dreams. I do not intend to fool him with words of empty meanings.
Today, as a parent, this is my sacrifice.