I’m possibly an example of someone who has failed in the so-called “creative industry”, if you can even say I was involved in such a thing. A shop I helped start, which sold small handicrafts, closed down about two years ago. I currently operate a small theatre that doesn’t put on a lot of shows. I also run a second-hand bookstore that makes very little in the way of profits. I also do creative writing, I write editorials, and I make some money freelancing for different publications—like the one you’re reading right now. I’m truly a jack of all trades and master of none. I don’t get paid holidays, I don’t have an official retirement age, I don’t have time to watch TV at night or have dinner with my family.

I have worked independently in the arts and in education since leaving my government job in 2003 after almost six years. The Financial Services Bureau’s tax documents officially show that I’m both a “teacher” and a “holder of a higher diploma”. Armed with these documents, I officially started my career working in theatre. Among the people of Macao, those who work in the theatre industry are probably currently in the second generation. It was shortly after the Asian financial crisis, and I had been making more than MOP20,000 a month, without prior experience. Many people thought I was insane to walk away from such a great job. But after leaving, I used all kinds of ways to maintain my income in the theatre world. I didn’t have a target salary per se, nor did I have any of the benefits that I enjoyed as a civil servant, but what I did gain was a lot more free time to myself. Those who understand will know the value of freedom.

But just because someone has a lot of personal free time doesn’t mean they become instantly happy, or even free. Some people say that having a job means your employer is paying for your academic qualifications in the first place, not your capabilities. After a while, your employer is paying you for your time, and the right to manage your time and your way of life. So once you break free of your employer’s control of your time and life, it means you finally have to take back control of all these things and start living by your values and beliefs. You can no longer shift the blame to your boss for free passes.

Suddenly, armed with all this free time, more people will contact you and some will ask you whether you want to make some extra money. We have been drilled since young to believe that “time is money”, so you say yes every time—what you have is time, what you lack is income, after all. In the end, almost all your time becomes stuffed full with small assignments that roll endlessly in. But your income stays unstable, and you still feel unfree. So gradually you learn to respond to job offers with, “Let me check my schedule and I’ll get back to you.”

In fact, time is not so easy or fun to manage. For a freelancer who makes a living mostly in the theatre world, what sort of lifestyle is appropriate? How should he or she live and maintain his or her values and beliefs? Surely working a full-time job, and allowing one’s employer to manage one’s time, could ease the need to think hard about these questions.

It’s been 11 years, but I still feel like I am constantly in dialogue with the me of 2003.