and on the third day, god said... (Part 3)

Day Three. Thursday.

I dreamed that night.

The world was a huge olympic-sized pool inside a covered gymnasium, and I was about to join it again. I swam with gliding effortless strokes. And I could leap so high on the diveboard I was almost flying.

It was a beautiful dream. The symbolics were so positive.

The Frog Princess was in it. We were both in red. I kept myself at a safe, comfortable distance.

I woke up, remembering every detail from the dream. Then I dismissed it and went on with the day.

It was the Cinemalaya Semi-Finalists Orientation that day. Went with writers Monj and Dennis. A somewhat inspiring event. There were 34 semi-finalists selected. Half of them were familiar faces. Even Khavn dela Cruz--my Clermont-Ferrand Festival buddy--was there. College schoolmates (Deans Habal, my classmate at UP Film, and Pao Pangan, as cinematographer to a certain Paolo Dy), acquaintances from past jobs (Paul Morales, my fellow Cinemalaya monitoring officer last year; Byron Bryant and Jhune Caina, whom I met at St@r Cinema; and of course, Adolf Alix, my kilig-show co-writer).

Among the panel of judges were familiar faces as well. Industry professionals I've worked with (and worked for) in the past few years: award-winning screenwriter Armando "Bing" Lao (my Scriptwriting 1&2 professor, the best writer I've ever encountered in flesh-and-blood), the esteemed award-winning director Jeffrey Jeturian (my idol!), and Seiko Films producer Robbie Tan, my former boss and head of the Cinemalaya Monitoring Committee 2004. I was glad to see these people again. They knew me and somehow that was a comfort, knowing that I wasn't just some anonymous face who had "tagged along" with the Concept Creators.

Not having been a Concept Creator this year, I had had a dint of regret over havin to "adopt" someone else's "baby" again. But Direk Jeffrey is an inspiration. He doesn't write his films but he makes 'em well. I have yet to tackle a few internal hurdles to be able to arrive at a completed (and satisfactory) written work, but directing for me is a joy. Visualizing is almost like breathing for me. I enjoy it every step of the way.

But who's to say. I wouldn't want me to pigeonhole my own self. Maybe I just need time. Here's hoping.

So all's well that will end well. And with a praying heart, I'm confident that the finals will see Totong Hilot getting made. Beautifully. Nothing less!

Haha. Think positive, keep the flame burning. And pray, pray, pray.

I was much better that day. But numbed, still. I saw someone again whom I had always come to associate with Someone Else. A whiff of sadness and nostalgia again. I can't describe how I felt that moment.

I was going to end the day on a low again. I felt it. The exhaustion (of having to travel all the way to Manila in such sticky sweltering weather) and depression over other baggages from the past two days. So I took it out on one of those Dinosauric Leering Maniacal Males who thought they could get away with sexist behavior.

Haha. Maybe they were right. Maybe I do hate men. Or the nature of males, for that matter.

But I lightened up somewhat. Getting home, realizing that retiring to my room wasn't as dreary as it had felt one, two days before.

And then I started writing a blog entry. The Man of My Dreams has fallen in love. And with a younger guy, no less.

I stared at the words. Like comprehending them for the first time. And then I laughed. A ha-ha laugh. It all seemed funny, the whole idea. If the girl weren't me, I would've found it hilarious.

Now why didn't I notice that before.

I asked for light, God gave me light. If only for a moment. To be able to see things from a sober-sane, detached perspective, and laugh at how serious I was.

Moment of madness has gone on for too long. I'm not goin back there. Ever.