1.2. LLOYDIE's cluttered thoughts

It’s been a rainy week. Not a perfect time to clean my room. A perfect reason not to clean my room. Actually, I’ve been putting off a lot of things these days, not just my try-to-remove-all-the-clutter-in-my-room chore. I’m busy with something else ( or up to something, if you like being accurate with words). Hmmm….I’ve been trying to look where John Lloyd keeps his journal. No success yet. But for somebody who keeps a cluttered room—-DVDs everywhere, unused pants thrown in the chair, towel he used the night before, shoes at the foot of his bed—he leaves his mark very well. And I found something really, really interesting.

I found a crumpled note, just beside his waste basket.

It may not be Lloydie’s journal yet, but exactly, what shall we find when we read his ‘cluttered thoughts’?






As i've said, I'm still looking for it, but this note says a lot about the fragments of thoughts that we might find in his journal.






whoah!!! i can't believe i did that! But, can you blame me for being curious? waaaahhh this time, forgive me Lloydie... kaya lang kasi, it's lying "there" for everyone to "see"...

Chapter I : SWEET LOVE and DIARIES

1.1
SARAH G'S DIARY #1 her birthday entry

Two days after my birthday. I enjoyed the five days off they have given me. I was able to spend time with my family. It kinda felt weird not needing to get up early but I appreciate the rest. It’s been a non-stop whole year for me. Not that I’m complaining. I’ve been so blessed. Thank you Lord. I was just dreaming. I never thought it would come to this. It’s worth all the puyat, pagod, all the sacrifices.

Yesterday was ASAP. It was Sunday. Sunday is my favorite day as you know. It has been for a long time now. I enjoy performing before ASAP’s audience. Come to think of it, I love to perform whether it’s on ASAP’s stage or on any other stage. It’s just that ASAP’s stage is like home to me. I have my friends backing me up on the side.

Last night was fun too. i was able to spend some time with friends, though i felt bad for my friend. Good thing, she's ok now.

I’m afraid to say this. I feel that putting what I have to say in words will make it truer. And truth most times can be painful. I’m not sure if I’m ready yet to get hurt. But, it’s what I feel right now, so I share my secrets to you even for just today.

Sunday has become my favorite day because of one person, because of this one guy. I didn’t realize how special he had become to me until it was already too late. I was already affected by his mere presence --or absence. We started as acquaintances, then we worked together, and we became friends. I love being his friend. He knows how to make me feel special. And I always have to convince myself and remind myself that I am just that—a friend. I may feel that I’m special to him, but I am just a friend. Nothing more. I’m not ready yet to feel anything more for anyone—especially for him. Friendship is safe.

I miss the old days—the shooting days, I mean. Everyday, I was looking forward to shooting and seeing him. Well, because we’re friends. And I like spending time with him. He makes me happy. But lately, it has been like a roller coaster ride. The friendship was not so safe anymore. I know I like him. I’m not sure if he likes me as much. I know I’m special to him though I’m not sure how much. I’m afraid to find out. And I’m not ready yet. But I like him. Now, it has become hard to be close to him because people notice. Or to avoid him because what would he think? It’s difficult because I want to stay friends with him, yet I feel something for him. Friendship really isn’t safe anymore. I've never been in this situation before. This is a first for me.

Tomorrow will be another day. I guess, I’ll have to take each day as it comes. Hopefully I will always have the strength to keep my emotions at bay. Lord, please help me. For now, I will like him from afar. And if he really likes me, I wish he will wait for me. Until I am ready. I hope because he knows me, he knows also that he too is special to me.

I know I’m special to him (especially as a friend). This guy’s so sweet and generous. Last time for my birthday, he surprised me with an LV.

And yesterday, he gave me THIS GIFT. Thank you...




B: please, forgive me OO. But i do wonder what's his 'real' gift for you.

I say

I won’t claim to know the people I will be writing about. I’m not even sure if by digging into their deepest secrets and reading their journal entries and diaries I'm not committing a mortal sin. I just write from the heart. If I sound like I know these people, it might be because I do actually know them. By heart. Not personally, but by heart.

Every year, on my birthday, I write about what has happened the past year and how I feel at the moment. Today is my birthday. So, I will do that.

I also think that one of my two favorite persons in the world does that too. So, I decided to take a peek at the pages of her diary and imagine what I’d read and find out. It’s a sacred page I know. And it really doesn’t feel right reading someone else’s secret thoughts. Then, I just remind myself (you also, who will be reading them) that all of these things are secrets from my OWN HEART.

The first entry is Sarah’s…

My Birthday Poem

Out of my reverie,

I was awaken

Summoned to a clearing, familiar.

My heart is weak

My faith trembles.

What if I found myself in the shambles?

What would my words be?

My feet shall carry me

I know

Yet to where

I know not

Not yet, at least.

My soul is wayward

The mind divided

But the Voice insists

Calm but oh so firm

Soothes my fear.

My resolve strengthens

Fired with a new hope

Shivers still run through me

Threatening my faith

I close my eyes and lift my face to heaven

There it is

My north star, ever constant.

And slowly, with only a slight quiver

I make my newest step

I falter, but, I continue the journey.







11:59 pm

of

July 27,2007


mos:
this was written two years ago...that long since i last felt that way.

My First Post

Here, I will try to write about what inspires me. These days, Sarah and John Lloyd and their love story, though only created in my head, inspire my mind and my hands to action. My heart, included. I feel deeply for these two strangers. They affect my being. I'm writing again.

It's scary. The fact that i'm writing again scares the heck out of me. Writing gives me no choice but to open myself up for stares. And people do. However uninteresting it is, people stay and stare. I'm never comfortable in being vulnerable. I know myself. At first it'll be okay to share my innermost thoughts, my emotions—then i'd start to feel the need to clam up and protect myself again. I have to take control again. But emotions are not meant to be controlled; just handled the right way, but never to be controlled. I've learned this recently from a friend. I read his answers in an interview. I watched his interviews. I learned from him a lot. I learned that how ever much we try sometimes, our emotions—love especially, just snake their way out. They embrace us from behind, when we least expect them. And because of this new learning, I make a resolve to be open to any possibility. I might get hurt in the process, but i'll have to remember that it's inevitable.

I will write about just anything. Another friend taught me not to be afraid to be myself. She said, it's hard to live a life full of pretensions so try not to be someone you are not. So, I will write what I want to write about. And if words fail me, or if my linguistic know-how limits me, then I will have to accept that. I will not pretend to be any good, nor hide behind big but empty words. I will just be myself.

You will find yourself shaking your head as you read my thoughts. You will not agree with my ideas. You will find them boring, and so amateurish. I know you will. That's okay. As i've said, I don't claim to be any good. I just write. But if you find yourself wondering about that tiny twitch there in the region where your heart is—go ahead. Pay attention to that tiny flutter. It might just be your heart talking to me. I will try to talk to you heart to heart. My head will remind me to stop. But I promise to try and stay and talk to you through my written words.


my other self: see, the first post is just more on mumbling.