Hibiemi's writing skillz are deadz.
Well, this is what I get for randomly choosing to write late at night after typing down one mini-essay about a ship model in De La Costa Hall. Here is my attempt at a good introduction for my part in that Planet Joe project!
I walk through the thick forest-lined pathways that snake around the Ateneo, the smell of moist woodland filling my nostrils. Such moments like this leave me with serenity and inspiration, and possibly an impulse for a photoshoot, depending on what I was wearing that day.
Of course, being the vain being that I am, I'd always take pride in what I was wearing, unless it was just some ordinary pair of pants and a shirt.
During these solitary walks through the cement and cobblestone-floored paths, sometimes, I could sense another being with me: with that same vain air and aura throbbing with the intensity of any wide-eyed artist. Yet, as I would turn my head to see if anyone was there, I would see no one. Not a shadow nor any scent but that of the woods lingered where I looked. I heard that the school had ghost stories, but as much as I was superstituous, this feeling that I had was not like that. My eyes subtly narrowed, as if silently demanding the prescence to make itself known in physical form. No, there was no answer at all.
But I had felt like I had a familiar walking right behind me.
I walk through the thick forest-lined pathways that snake around the Ateneo, the smell of moist woodland filling my nostrils. Such moments like this leave me with serenity and inspiration, and possibly an impulse for a photoshoot, depending on what I was wearing that day.
Of course, being the vain being that I am, I'd always take pride in what I was wearing, unless it was just some ordinary pair of pants and a shirt.
During these solitary walks through the cement and cobblestone-floored paths, sometimes, I could sense another being with me: with that same vain air and aura throbbing with the intensity of any wide-eyed artist. Yet, as I would turn my head to see if anyone was there, I would see no one. Not a shadow nor any scent but that of the woods lingered where I looked. I heard that the school had ghost stories, but as much as I was superstituous, this feeling that I had was not like that. My eyes subtly narrowed, as if silently demanding the prescence to make itself known in physical form. No, there was no answer at all.
But I had felt like I had a familiar walking right behind me.