What’s so fascinating (at least for me) with the aching feeling of longing for something or someone? Is it called passion? Does that make me passionate, then? Why do I feel so happy and slightly hurt at the same time? Happy, because thinking of the thing sends chivers down my spine, makes me want to fly and feel the air, the sun, the rain, the nature... Slightly hurt, though, can’t quite explain that part. Maybe that’s the spice in the recipe. The small cinnamon dot in the bread. I don’t know, maybe I’m really becoming one of them masochistic virgos.
All these crazy feeling started when I played the song “Di mo lang alam” by Indio I on my media player. Ahhhhhh...........
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