Tonight I feel like writing. I feel like writing entries not because I have long overdue blogs to finish or I have nothing else to do, but because I suddenly got this strange itch to write this Sunday night.
Tonight I feel like shivering. I feel like cold and it reminds me of Baguio weather I have survived for four years. The temperature, according to news, drops to ten degrees less. My delicate body would have been rolled under thick sheets of blanket by now if not drowning in GSM Blue in hunt for some piece of warmth.
Tonight I feel like drifting. I feel like being in another dimension, maybe overseas like in Singapore to make use of my expiring passport or atop the highest peak in Luzon to enchant myself with the famed sea of clouds in Mt. Pulag.
Tonight I feel like thriving. I feel like over those sleepless nights brought by endless cases, recitations, exams, training and revalida, as I have already hurdled the Bar Exams with flying colors.
Tonight I feel like romantic. I feel like kneeling before the one I dreamt my forever with, offering my everlasting love under the bright moonlight with rose petals pouring and sweet melodies playing.
Tonight I feel like sensual. I feel like having sex and living up my wildest fantasy. Nope, I feel like having sex. Period.
Tonight I feel like ecstatic. I feel like I can be whoever and wherever I want to be. I feel like hibernating to restore my strength and intellect back to its finest state. I feel like sharing with everyone my worldly hopes and wishes. I feel like turning all these feel-likes into reality and surreality. I feel like sleeping and waking up. Tonight, I feel like writing.