Talk About Rubbing Salt on the Wound...

*Beep!*

Hmm... SMS received... unknown number...

"Hi, you r invited 2 come for the MVA's official opening ceremony and experimental&short films Awards Night @National Art Gallery on 25th Nov@6pm!"

Aha. By "invited", read "your short hasn't been accepted but we'd appreciate it if you could help us get some bums on seats".

As you can tell, I'm feeling a bit bitter.

It's not just the MVA's, though. It's a blow, but in all honesty it's really not that important. But this coupled with the other two hopes for awards that didn't come into fruition had me sitting in Coffee Bean (I felt an urge to splurge) eating linguini and wondering whether my creative juices were really that juicy to begin with.

The Young Guns, I reckon, was the biggest blow. It was the second time entering and we were hyper-confident about our ads. No go. It seems an ad with a cat driving will always beat an ad with a guy making out passionately with a mobile phone.

Sitting in that auditorium, waiting and waiting and waiting, to find out someone else won again is downright depressing. I didn't even bother going to the Kancils because I didn't want to have to go through that again (plus our ad wasn't that good to begin with).

Now I've been invited to another event where I'll basically sit down and watch other people's 'great works of art' and fume. Fuck that. The whole 'maybe I'm not cut out for this' thought process began again.

That is, until IridescentButterfly left a comment on my last post that put a bit of a smile on my face. Thanks, Butterfly. You've been dropping a lot of nice comments that always seem to give me a little boost and I really appreciate it.

...

Speaking of comments, when are the rest of you fuckers gonna leave your two cents?