(no subject)
i still remember the wind, the cold chills, the warm beers.
i remember freedom on a stick. walking through streets and alleyways, pointing; here, there - let's turn here ~ manila, baguio. and i strum your guitar. i hug your bottle.
i don't know where it started. it was a disastrous bout to the airport but hey, i made it there alive. and i was breathing and seething but i could hold up my fingers together for a cigg.
and already it started. [this is a two-sided coin]
and in quezon i stood my ground for an overpriced room where people were making their waywards beside us. but oh, we bottled our ears and the sisig was good but it was describable how different things were between this line and that line.
"I would like to believe that this is home but I feel more and more like a stranger"
it's not the waiting that counts, it's the amount of beer.
and you called me a true phillipino.
then it was baguio ~ where i bought my beads and i memorised the turns of every street. the party hiccups and the jason that ran around, my partner in crime.
but the days prior where the balcony was our minor haunting ground. and the sunset was good. as was the breeze and the doggies finding their warm spots, sniffing their own butts - running away.
and the hillside was beautiful. i was caught with rapture in every scene. could you believe it? the smells the sound the price i paid for this beauty-condensed cream in my life-plethora tea.
and i still can't sit still.
and a conduit tried to make me sit still
but i was exploding each and every way.
[i hope i'll see you again next year.]
i remember freedom on a stick. walking through streets and alleyways, pointing; here, there - let's turn here ~ manila, baguio. and i strum your guitar. i hug your bottle.
i don't know where it started. it was a disastrous bout to the airport but hey, i made it there alive. and i was breathing and seething but i could hold up my fingers together for a cigg.
and already it started. [this is a two-sided coin]
and in quezon i stood my ground for an overpriced room where people were making their waywards beside us. but oh, we bottled our ears and the sisig was good but it was describable how different things were between this line and that line.
"I would like to believe that this is home but I feel more and more like a stranger"
it's not the waiting that counts, it's the amount of beer.
and you called me a true phillipino.
then it was baguio ~ where i bought my beads and i memorised the turns of every street. the party hiccups and the jason that ran around, my partner in crime.
but the days prior where the balcony was our minor haunting ground. and the sunset was good. as was the breeze and the doggies finding their warm spots, sniffing their own butts - running away.
and the hillside was beautiful. i was caught with rapture in every scene. could you believe it? the smells the sound the price i paid for this beauty-condensed cream in my life-plethora tea.
and i still can't sit still.
and a conduit tried to make me sit still
but i was exploding each and every way.
[i hope i'll see you again next year.]