What are we today?
Don’t know about you but I am in the advertising field. Advertising; where we make each brand in each market seem important; where every click of our finger is able to control the minds of far too many; where we live in the fascinating idea of being able to sell ‘anything’.
Advertising; that sensational way of life, the fun and frolic in everyone simply pouring out with absolute passion, dynamism and perhaps even a tad bit of aggression. The manner in which we bombard people’s brains with irritating messages and how we rejoice over champagne and caviar for having fooled yet some more unfortunate people. And then, they spend on toothpaste that was mintier than the other; on furniture that was hand-picked from around the world (yeah right); on fashion brands that tried saving themselves the cost of too much cloth - the list goes on.
And so, many of us observed advertising for a few days and decided that it was the best possible job to have. We take it upon ourselves to be a hot-shot advertiser one day, owning a highly creative agency with all the glitz and glamour accompanying our venture. Ready for all the model agencies and boozing nights buttering our clientele, we set foot into one of the most stressful fields of work.
Soon, we are neck deep into paperwork and deadlines, being cursed by people who love to curse. It is advertising - we somehow land up cursing our rockets off! Months pass and then, years - one’s own self esteem begins to wear a funny face. We begin to underestimate our true worth and begin thinking of obstacles as hardships, looking at tasks to be strenuous and far-fetched. Giving up on the matter; throwing a fit and succumbing to a nervous breakdown follow suit - bringing to life panic and blunder.
The million dollar question would then stand as: What was the reason for this state of despair? Am I incapable of handling pressure? Have I lost that enthusiastic presence I nurtured well and the calm composition that I was? Is it that I feel threatened by anything or is it sheer paranoia that eats away on what’s remaining of my dear sane mind?
Whatever it is that irks our psyche, we somehow decide it is too hard for us to surmount. We realize we have become the sorry expressions of depressed beings, running around as headless chickens would.
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