Midnight Entry # 2

Here I am - bored, tired, and somewhat dizzy - staring at the computer screen because I don't have anything productive to do. I should actually be working on my group's marketing study tonight, but I guess I'm just not in the mood to work yet. No one of particular importance is online either, so I can't waste time talking to anyone on YM 'til I begin to feel drowsy. Ach! Boring night, huh? And well, on boring nights like this one - when I'm feeling alone and insomniac and tiny and helpless and unproductive - I can't help but start thinking about stuff - you know, ideas for stories I want to write, films I want to make, places I want to go to, people I want to meet. Yeah right, who am I kidding, huh? Fine, I usually think about things that were, about things that could be but are not, of could-have-beens and should-haves, of missed opportunities and big fucking mistakes. [Yeah, I do know I'm particularly fond of italicizing words - that's how I speak, you see.]

So there, tonight I'm thinking. And aside from the stuff that I usually find myself thinking of - pretty depressing stuff, actually - I'm thinking of one particular incident last sem that makes me feel something. That's the weird thing actually; I don't know what exactly it makes me feel. That's probably why I'm thinking about it in the first place. Let me tell you about it:

So there I was, directing my first film, which was shot in my house back in Alabang. We were a small, unruly crew of five people: two actors, the producer, the cameraman/director of photography, and me. We were running late - it was getting dark, we had barely finished shooting half of the scenes we had to shoot, and the deadline for the screening version of the film was noon the next day. I was half-drunk from all the tequila I had ingested to flush out my creative/insane side, the actors were all tired and sleepless, and there was a general mood of not-being-in-the-mood-for-it-anymore about the set.

And magic happens. I was blocking the role of the actor along with the actress, and all of a sudden I feel the character. That actually wasn't that hard, considering that this film started out as an autobiographical one - and yes, it is a love story of some sort, if you really have to know. Anyway, to cut the story short, shooting the scene goes by without a hitch, and we have a short yosi break before resuming the shoot. And the actor who's playing the lead role - well, he starts crying because he's starting to feel the character too (and this is extremely weird because it's this guy's absolute first time to act in anything, and because he's this quiet, NR guy); and everyone else suddenly decides to become teary-eyed and senti and listen to Sugarfree's music. Needless to say, the rest of the shoot goes by without any further difficulties, and we end up producing a particularly nice short film for a first-time crew.

There. And I have absolutely no idea why I'm thinking of that particular incident. Is it because I'm feeling kind of sentimental tonight? I'm not actually that sentimental tonight; I'm just bored. Do I want to direct a film again? Not now, probably; I don't think I have another great story to tell. I really don't know, I guess.

This entry's quite different from the few previous ones, isn't it?