4/28/2007
Turn off the radio

"To get over rejection, you have to realize that rejection is really a myth. It doesn't really exist. It is simply a concept that you hold in your head."

When my father came home from Singapore a week ago, he gave me one of those self-help books authored by Jack Canfield. I've been reading it for a week and I'm four-fifths of the way through, partially hitting myself in the head for not knowing these things before. The morning before he arrived, I was actually in between going back to the Hit FM studios and going home - and so was Ella, because we practically didn't know whether the results are actually released or not. We got no answers, and despite the advice that we go these anyway, I was asked to stay home instead.

I forgot about it for a week. I already told Jem that I didn't get in, despite my surprise optimism about the bid. I simply spent my time dozing off and being a bum, reading the book I was given, making sure I take my medication and sleep before midnight strikes. I was okay - I never thought about the fact that I didn't make it eighty percent of the time, because I somehow hold dear the belief that I just got things wrongly, or I'm waiting for a negative confirmation that'll leave me comforted, at the least.

By this time Ella was miles luckier than I am. She texted me last Thursday, telling me that, somehow, she got considered for RX's training program, along with a handful of former LS trainees who got disenfranchised after the reformat. The next morning, she got in, and even if I was happy, I felt as if I got stamped as "hopeless" for life.

It helps to be true to yourself. "Hiding bitterness," I hinted in one of my replies. Then again I quickly deleted what Ella replied - another one of those consolation statements that, as history proves, has never worked. By this time, Jack Canfield's point strikes my head again: you started with nothing anyway, and you left with nothing, so don't feel bad about it. So maybe I was slightly consoled. And then, eventually, I forgot about it.

I won't be blaming Kelly, however, for a harder-than-subtle reminder. I was listening in yesterday afternoon - I even placed a phone call, was happy that she remembered me, and eventually she granted my request. Somehow I decided to switch stations. There were two girls - twins, actually - or, to be exact, two "Joss Stone-lookalikes" from somewhere who were training for the Hit Squad. The eighty percent quotient edged the remaining twenty off. It became a full hundred.

It helps to publicly admit your bitterness, although I never got to do so yet. So far I've only texted Jem - herself an RX trainee - but, as usual, I'm not receiving a reply. And apparently Kelly hasn't read my blog entry about her because the link was somehow wrong. I'll be emailing her, but I'm having second thoughts about mentioning my fate - she knows I auditioned like those twins did- and yeah, she's nice and sweet and all, but surely people do not have time. Nobody has.

My mother is a shining example of how unsupportive people can get. One day she was, "you'll do well because you've got a deep voice and they'll surely train you about your short tongue." The Saturday I was stuck in between, and when it became more evident I lost my chances, she had a different line: "you won't make it because you comment a lot and people won't appreciate it," complete with a generalization. I still forgot about it, but suddenly I know how it feels.

The decision to audition for Hit FM was a leap of faith on my part. I actually thought twice when I first mentioned this to Ella; eventually my decision to try was a spontaneous one. Eventually I didn't lose anything, except probably for a few calories, a couple hundred bucks, and my sanity. Then again, it's already there - almost. I already wore the headphones, spoke through the microphone, and shadowed DJs as they went through their means of living. Why could life be so unfair and decide that I don't get what I've long aspired for, just as it gets that close in my reach? I even got a little superstitious, and well aware that my auditions fall on Friday the thirteenth, I collected "good luck" messages from Karla, Jem, Kim, Lizette and even Joe Schmoe, among others. No luck.

And probably what aggravates me even more are the realities of the industry I am trying to crack. At the RT thread, we've been talking about how looks are given a premium nowadays. I did remember, two girls from Assumption were also there when Ella and I tried our luck - I wonder how they did? Then again, without photos asked from any of us, there won't be a basis for an argument that's already flimsy from the start.

Suddenly I know how it feels to be this rejected. I know, it isn't really big, and I end up to where I was initially anyway, but heck, it's all the effort and all the expectations. False expectations, you might say. For a moment I feel what my campaigning friends probably felt - maybe like Sarah when she lost, but mine's only the smallest of replicas, so that was probably a hasty comparison. I can only throw in the "hopeless" tag, right? That already speaks wonders about my predicament. I'll freely wonder why people like Ella and Jem are just damn lucky - and I'll freely wonder why life's always been unfair to me - and I'll freely wonder why I didn't think of preparing for it earlier, maybe like joining the GMG and getting trained, or being such a show-off...

...but perseverance. Perseverance pays off, I read. I just haven't met my match - who knows, I could be producing someone's show on Capital 95.8 - and so I have to try knocking on every door until someone finds me perfect. Ella's story comes to mind - she dreamed at thirteen and it's been six years since. I just got serious now, but my wishes date back years. Maybe in five years - no, definitely in five years - then I'll get somewhere. I can say I'll be relating to a million people who decide to get involved. I'll have my say and I'll leave a mark. I could probably mention, even, Ariane and Jaja, and their similar ambitions, and why up to now I'm the only one who decided to get something done and take the first step. I won't say I'm better than them, but thinking of it for a second, it sure amounts to something, right?

Suddenly I'm not sure if I should post this. It's been six hours and a half since I switched the radio, realizing I'm actually supposed, somehow, to apologize to Kelly (probably needlessly, but that's me as always) for silently implicating her. But it helps to be frank once in a while - you get to placed beyond where you expect to be. It's feedback, at least from the self. It gets you back on track. But enough of the excuses - I just got everything out, and it's quite safe from my distance. I'd probably go back to pretending that I got what I wanted - besides, as I told Ella yesterday, zero opportunities in the worst time - it could mean nothing after all.

And also, I still have some more Jack Canfield to read. He's got six more principles to teach me, and maybe it'd help me get elsewhere once I apply them. But I blink, and I think that, after all, it actually was in me, all of these attributes. The audition spirit, the intention to observe needlessly, the phone calls, the expired tickets - all of that.

And so I get a bucket of water and a towel, and wipe off "hopeless" from my head.

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