maybe it's overly cynical, but i think i have lost a good portion of my faith in journalism. this is a big deal because the idea of journalism as a career has ALWAYS lurked around since i was a kid. that is how much journalism has played a part in my life.

journalism is about conveying the truth isn't it, and me, being terribly idealistic and stubbornly
so - i can't accept the paradox of censorship and commercialism co-habiting with journalism. it's not only not right, it cancels out everything! how can they peacefully exist, when the concepts will inevitably interfere?

i cannot see how a journalist can make a cuttingly honest political analysis when there's censorship to consider. even the mundane things like movie reviews - notice how movies distributed by gigantahumoungous companies who have splashed out full-page ads hardly hardly ever get poor reviews? and i am still very much pissed by the co-incidental placing of the full-page Mango ad adjacent to the page 2 news of the beheading in iraq. no prizes for guessing the carefully calculated positioning and the extra money paid to get that attention-grabbing spot. maybe im just paranoid, but pbbt.

sensationalism sensationalism ignore the black and white you can only see in grey write what the paying readers want to hear write what the government tells you to shut up shut up red tape write what we tell you to write well here i am back in secondary school with suzanna lee.

when i told mother dearest about my *drum roll* disillusionment, she said i was being narrow-minded because she thought i was talking only about being a normal print journalist. but oh no mother, i corrected her. in fact, i have thought this very well out. it is one of the things that occupy my mind during Bathroom Time. i cannot be a political analyst though it is very fascinating, because i am not brilliant enough. being a mother, she of course denied my claim - said she, how do you know, you've never tried it! oh ho-hum, would you like to see 2 years worth of history essays? wait, lemme try find it in the pile of papers that i was planning to make a bonfire with.

then she said, well, what about being a magazine writer? and i choked.

to be honest, it did use to sound appealing to me. magazines here refer to women and fashion magazines.

oh whot fun! i don't buy them anymore because long ago, i realized they were telling me the same things over and over again and thank you, i've learnt why its very very important to use toner and i know how to put on my eyeliner smudged or in a dead-straight line and how to match those awful pair of white boots with virtually anything in my wardrobe! i am now all set to face the world, watch out everybody! i am armed with chockloads of trivial information!

so nowadays, i just flip through copies of 'high-fashion' mags because hurhur i like the pretty pictures. and i will stab myself in the eye before becoming a writer in one of those trashy teeny-bopper magazines like Teens. augh augh augh.

but now, i seem to be striking out more and more of my options in my List until i have nothing left and so, know not what to do with my life.