It’s not worth waking up for good enough.

I know when a headline stinks. I know when I write
copy that barely makes the grade. And I still let them through, out of kindness,
or tiredness, or laziness. For whatever reason, really. The reason doesn’t
matter. The fact stands: the work isn’t great, and we kill ourselves over it day
after fucking day, with nothing to show for it but exasperation, a dwindling
regard for our own abilities, and bitter envy for the guys who go up on stage
because they killed themselves for something that was worth

I’ve just come from the Media Asian
Ad Awards dinner, and the TV work from Thailand leaves everyone in the dust.
Everyone. Their ideas are larger than life, their execution superb, their
casting unbelievably authentic, and those are just the finalists.

Philippine clients have a tendency to
want to “use” every second of their media money to sell, sell, explain, explain.
They refuse to tell stories, linger on heartbreak, throw in an extra scene
without a product shot simply because it sweetens the feeling, leaves a sigh in
the chest. It is so easy to forget that we have the power to create magic, not
just make ads.

Ads are forgettable.
Stories are passed on.