ID, Ego, Superego

Never have I thought that I would write again about losing passion. But, lately, as I have been minding my own business, just doing what I loved the most weeklong - playing the guitar, and taking photographs; my conscience brought back "evil/vain' memories of what I'd thought had been repressed.

Have you ever taught somebody, for instance, how to play the guitar; and the next thing you know, he'd been praised by everybody around and you couldn't help but feel jealous? I did, and still do. I used to be that person, that person whom almost everybody (back at High School) looked up to with regards to music - most of them would come to me and would practically beg me to teach them how to play my favorite instrument. Among the seven of them, there was only one person whom I saw potential, and I taught him. Until one ruddy day this semester, my friends would stare at him in admiration and would call him "The Prodigy." My selfishness rose while my pride deflated. "Why did I ever teach him? That lucky git," I often tell myself. I wanted him to thank me on bended knee - if it weren't for me, then he would have been just another plain old guitarist.

Not only did I take passion in playing the guitar, but also in taking pictures. Nope, not ordinary pictures - I take candid shots, not vanity ones. *wink* I often get mad at people who cannot do anything but nag me on getting the pictures uploaded, and those who take my photographs only to see them posted without permission; or even worse: seeing them on some stranger's blog, with the person's name watermarked on it. But in this case, I learned to forgive. I knew those photos are mine, and no one else's. But still, the thought that you don't get any credit - what with the burden to resize and upload when Internet is slow as usual. "Ganyan ang buhay photographer," they say. "Do you pay me to do such time consuming work?," I retort silently.

EGO BEFORE PASSION, I figured. I know my mentality is very wrong, but how do I alter it? I know I can't. This is me and I cannot change, I can just control? Huh? It makes no sense anymore.

As evil as I may seem, I still love plucking the rusty strings or clicking on the silver shutter button, yet appreciation and encouragement from a friend who can understand my hardly fathomable problems are pretty much wanted. I thought my seeking for these things have been repressed, or better, long gone; but as I progress in life, my seeking I have barely noticed increasing. I figured, every person needs appreciation, forgiveness, and encouragement. I need it pretty much. I yearn it perpetually.

Now all I have to do is push myself to change. Easy peasy. Riiiighhhttt.