How much do you have to sell to be a sell out?

I've asked myself that question countless times over the past few days. This week, I was offered another promotion within 5 months of my previous promotion. The position entails putting me in the fast track to where I thought I wanted to be within the company. I had every reason to be excited because it's the big break I've been waiting for.

Somehow, I wasn't exactly thrilled. Not to say that I didn't want this. I desired to be at the top of my game around this point in my life. I suppose that it's another sign to end the recklessness I've grown accustomed to in the past 23 years of my existence in this world.

I'm a risktaker. It shows in the way I carry and present myself, in the way I handle my affairs, the way I veer off course and take the beaten path. It's how I do. My mantra was to always think big and hunger for more. Many times I was the scrapper at the bottom, clawing his way to the top. I was the protagonist against the antagonistic suits that stood in my way. And now, I feel that I'm going to turn into a "suit". Oh, and I'm dramatic with many things I shouldn't be dramatic about but really, that's not the point. The point is, I lived for being the scrapper. I liked working in the trenches with my fellow scrappers, in whatever situation I was in. It was my ideology of "I-want-to-change-the-world-and-leave-my-mark", the stuff legends are made of, that kept me going. It was that fire in my belly that made me want to take advantage of the next day.

JD, it's just a promotion, da hell's wrong with you?

Now that this reality is in front of me, I feel like I'll be limited in what I can do to be that guy who's the Filipino activist, the hip-hop dancer, the wannabe sneaker boutique owner. Who knows? I could still do all that stuff, right? I'm probably being ma-arte for the sake of being ma-arte.

I should probably be smacked for even thinking like this. Ah well.