  As i was sucking this big lollipop cookie while writing this uneventful way of screaming on top of your lungs aching to be heard and be noticed for the great many things that you have shared which is writing, and yet i am always compelled to feel that greatness and aura of independence in the cool streets of baguio. All alone, no one to look after you, hell they care you sleep at Burnham Park and wake up still wearing same unwashed office clothes and yet get the smiles and the non-chalant feel of fellow workers who have no idea of what underpaid is and yet still are compassionate and&nbsp;dedicated with there&nbsp;means of living and&nbsp;about their way of life.
Not as liberal as what we hoped it to be, well, it is a choice and lifestyle. maybe its because of weather that it seems so perfect for a little birdie like me. Or maybe it was a wrong assumption of a birdie getting the poopoo days counting up here, ei? The nightlife has yet to see the fresh feel of my wings brushing in their faces down the crowded and rowdy streets of session, legarda and nevada square.
I love it. It was an epitome of the real orgasmic wings of freedom indeed. better watch out dorm boys birds peeping down ready for the plunge of the hot, entangling shower of hot water on smooth skin with hairs falling down the drain. Well, heres a cold tub for you to sulk in my friend. 
