<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6959614476277331541</id><updated>2011-07-08T06:00:34.060-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Table Talk</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cryingclown11.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6959614476277331541/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cryingclown11.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>iamthea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16370199445401074388</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qgU4aqdx958/TAJ_YP3YpnI/AAAAAAAAADA/Ye9yJzsqBT8/S220/9220_1114208583043_1461788080_30266771_855773_n.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>22</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6959614476277331541.post-4467398453451501222</id><published>2010-09-21T15:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-21T00:11:48.573-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Welcome Back!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;I miss blogspot. A lot. I almost worried when I found out that I cannot open my account a month or so. I go loco because I'm afaid I may not see my post again here. This is my first blog site ever and I enjoy every word/s that I write here based on my thoughts and my emotions. This is my first visit since I ran out of ideas on how to open my account due to my short term memory loss (password). &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Within that month that I was away with blogspot I met Tumblr. And I get enthused right away. I can't stop re blogging my follower's alluring photos. It was love at first sight. It was easy to use and it didn't confuse me. I fell in love also with the features, themes, quotes, photo sharing, videos and the likes. But when I keep on re blogging, blogspot come to the picture. So I decided to re blog on Tumblr and write BIG TIME in blogspot. After all, nothing beats blogspot which is my first love. NOw I welcome myself back here.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6959614476277331541-4467398453451501222?l=cryingclown11.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cryingclown11.blogspot.com/feeds/4467398453451501222/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6959614476277331541&amp;postID=4467398453451501222' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6959614476277331541/posts/default/4467398453451501222'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6959614476277331541/posts/default/4467398453451501222'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cryingclown11.blogspot.com/2010/09/welcome-back.html' title='Welcome Back!'/><author><name>iamthea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16370199445401074388</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qgU4aqdx958/TAJ_YP3YpnI/AAAAAAAAADA/Ye9yJzsqBT8/S220/9220_1114208583043_1461788080_30266771_855773_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6959614476277331541.post-7120535728681230386</id><published>2009-12-08T04:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-09-20T22:52:26.043-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Where were you when I needed you?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;I was like what the crap is going on with me. I’m not used to being alone. It seems that I am the only person who doesn’t know how to smile. Though, my smile is expensive, it feels like I was devastated for the rest of my life carrying a handful of flaws. I think I was the only person who had a problem. This is not me. Something’s going wrong. Maybe it all started when I knew things weren’t the way it used to be. I keep on asking myself why this and that happens. Why are they doing like this and like that? The action didn’t look so appealing to me. Best friends or best buddies as you may call them, where are they? Where are they when I need them so badly? Where are they when all I want to do is to feel the willingness of the group? Feels like I’m aloof to the group – out of the picture. I almost believe that best friends will always be there for you when they need you. But now I guess I don’t know who to call for help. I don’t know where to run if problems may arise. I don’t know if they still want me to mingle or what. I always experienced being left out. I try to reach out but they didn’t want me to reach them. Have I done something to the group? Feels like I’m a stranger to them already. I always take the blame and the mistakes. Maybe it’s me who is the problem. Maybe it’s me who has this attitude problem.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Peer pressure is tempting. That’s w&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;hy I get tempted too. But here we go this maturity level stage. I’ve been through this process and it’s killing me. It’s so hard. My perspective and view in life is different from the way I saw things before. I value life and I don’t argue about it. One of my friends said "Are we part of that I change?" I replied yes, definitely. Though it’s hard for me to accept it, I still want to try. I let them explain my entire sentiments ad I was trying not to let my tears fall down on my face. I don’t want them to have pity on me in the end. So I decided to detach from them for quite sometime. I couldn’t believe myself that I was able to tell them what I felt without feeling hatred.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I thought, if I detach I’ll be happy, but the truth is I’m not. I can resist them after all they’re my friends. I didn’t know why I stayed. I’m trying to be decisive but my fickle mind keeps on interrupting. I’m not a fickle-minded person. It’s just that I can’t stand to be alone and I hate being alone. I’m afraid that nobody will be there for me. Tapping their hands at my back and say, "Friend, are you okay?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Time had passed, it’s all the same - nothing has changed. It’s the old routine. I’m tired. Tired of dealing with immature people. Tired of arguing. Tired of trying to understand their behavior. I don’t know where to take sides. It’s so ironic. Unfair. Nobody cares about me. Nobody would dare to ask me if I’m okay or not. Nobody would say how are you? Nobody would tend to listen. Nobody understands me. Nobody. Where’s the foundation of what we called, "friends".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"Tell me who you’re friends are and I will tell you who you are", famous line from the bible. I don’t believe that the kind of friends you keep reflects who you are. Character, behavior and attitude is within yourself if has nothing to do with who your friends are. "When it hurts to look back and you’re scared to look ahead, you can look beside you and your best friend will be there" I don’t have a best friend and I don’t believe in best friend. But I have a friend. As what my dad said, "Its fluid". Yes it is. When you go to your school and meet a friend in the lobby and another one in the 3rd floor or somewhere, then its fluid. A bevy of friends is what I have not much of a real true friends. As what Morrie said, "Friends are great but they are not going to be there for you when you’re sick. They’re trying to be helpful." My mom always advise me to choose your friends and yeah I followed her advice. By the way, my mom is one of my closest friends. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Every time I’m in my darkest nights I accept all the pain and ask god for help. It’s alright to love what is in pain. My dad always advise me to "love yourself and be satisfied with yourself before you can love another." I was once in a dilemma and God was helping me to figure out something. That was the time I cried so hard. Now I’ve learned. My prayers have been answered. Full of bliss, is what I’ve felt after all the nightmares that happened. At that time, I remember what my childhood friend Emil said, "You can never find a real and true friend in this permanent world". Indeed it’s true. Somehow it was a battle and it’s worth fighting for. I don’t like to take risks. I’m afraid it will not work out so well.&lt;br /&gt;　&lt;br /&gt;　&lt;br /&gt;　&lt;br /&gt;　&lt;br /&gt;　&lt;br /&gt;　&lt;br /&gt;　&lt;br /&gt;　&lt;br /&gt;　&lt;br /&gt;　&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6959614476277331541-7120535728681230386?l=cryingclown11.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cryingclown11.blogspot.com/feeds/7120535728681230386/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6959614476277331541&amp;postID=7120535728681230386' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6959614476277331541/posts/default/7120535728681230386'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6959614476277331541/posts/default/7120535728681230386'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cryingclown11.blogspot.com/2009/12/where-were-you-when-i-needed-you.html' title='Where were you when I needed you?'/><author><name>iamthea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16370199445401074388</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qgU4aqdx958/TAJ_YP3YpnI/AAAAAAAAADA/Ye9yJzsqBT8/S220/9220_1114208583043_1461788080_30266771_855773_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6959614476277331541.post-3414260314139469500</id><published>2009-09-18T17:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-20T22:53:55.841-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Missing-in-Action!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;It's blogging time. It's been a nerve-wracking day. After the stressful days-wallah..i get to have the chance to visit my blog. Nothing has changed. I may say that once you've got stuck or exposed yourself in various activities, you intent to forget yourself. So crazy to think but that's what I experienced it right now-at this point in time. I miss my old routine everyday. I miss those all times that I've been alone. I miss my high school friends. I miss doing household chores. I miss reading my Dean Koontz and Paulo Coelho books. I miss writing. I miss dancing and the practices. I miss the house-party. I miss the K1 (videoke). I miss my friend. I miss being in love. I miss being happy.I miss cooking. I miss myself. I miss everything in me. Too bad I can't make up all those things that I miss in my life. Too bombarded with work-related things. Stressful as it is, hope I have the time to make up all those missing parts in my life. There's time for everything!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6959614476277331541-3414260314139469500?l=cryingclown11.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cryingclown11.blogspot.com/feeds/3414260314139469500/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6959614476277331541&amp;postID=3414260314139469500' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6959614476277331541/posts/default/3414260314139469500'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6959614476277331541/posts/default/3414260314139469500'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cryingclown11.blogspot.com/2009/09/missing-in-action.html' title='Missing-in-Action!'/><author><name>iamthea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16370199445401074388</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qgU4aqdx958/TAJ_YP3YpnI/AAAAAAAAADA/Ye9yJzsqBT8/S220/9220_1114208583043_1461788080_30266771_855773_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6959614476277331541.post-6138784510902280397</id><published>2009-06-11T06:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-20T22:57:10.868-07:00</updated><title type='text'>An Excruciating Memories</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;It's a cloud Sunday when I was in my room doing nothing. I squat on the floor and stared on the wall. The picture frame caught my attention. It was my first time to put a picture on a frame. I usually collect and keep it my closet. It was the photo of my friends together with my new found "teacher-and-friend". With looking at the photo, I recall the memories that we've spent together. All the while I keep on laughing at myself. Good enough I was alone in my room. Since my memories are fresh and functioning, I get my two journals on my closet.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;Diary as you may called it but journal is more formal and appropriate. I read my first journal and it's a full of melodramatic situations. At that time the meat of the story is more on life experiences, friendships, family, school work and of course the thing called LOVE (it will not complete the whole package without love). My first journal is based on my high school years. When I started to read it I didn't imagines I was able to expressed what I felt on my journal. Full of heartaches, pain, miserable, responsibility and FEAR. Happy memories is not included in my game. It's indeed a series of unfortunate events. I never taste the essence of having a good LIFE. The statement the "You've got to learn the hard way" from my mom keep haunting my mind. Hard way as it is I was able to survive. Conflict on my family matters is my weakest point. Too much to handle. But I keep on stressing out that the foundation of my FAMILY is important and my first priority. Whether you'll commit a mistake it's always the family that keeps you going.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;Friendship and love comes as one. I was once touched by the arrow of cupid. And it's really driving me crazy. I was in the place where everybody wants to be loved and the other way round. Sometimes I wanna scream and catch my breath if this is REAL love or what. "He's so cute" was my favorite punch line. I think crushes are normal. And I don't think it's normal if the person you love don't know how to appreciate little things. That person maybe is insensitive. Guess I know how to deal with them. It will be difficult in the first part but you will do good better next time. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;Baby sitter of the day - was my job. never did I imagine it was too hard and too difficult to raised my younger brothers. As you can see I'm the eldest that is expected that I had the bigger share of responsibility at home (except from my parents, though). They keep pestering each other. They're like animal because they eat like cats and dogs (gabble and gabble). As if they'll going to die if they miss one meal in a day. But despite of their naughtiness they are so lovable and passionate in good ways. They can make you laugh out loud out of their stupidity. It made me think as if they were really my real son. Never mind mind the tiring moments what important is you will able to interact and learn a lot from them and vice versa. You see patience is what you need guys. And if you have the value of being patience well then you are qualified of being a nanny (just joking).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;My journey as what I wrote on my first journal is far from what I expected. You will never know that you're being tested in different ways. Patience and Perseverance works for me. But still my questions are lining up for finding the right answers. My experiences are my resources because I learned from them. Different levels of experiences help me make a better person. That's why other people say "been there done that". because they already undergo a lot of circumstances in their life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;Guess I still have one journal left to impart with you guys but that would be another story. Everything in my life right now is a constant change. It vary on how you handle and view your life for tomorrow.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6959614476277331541-6138784510902280397?l=cryingclown11.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cryingclown11.blogspot.com/feeds/6138784510902280397/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6959614476277331541&amp;postID=6138784510902280397' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6959614476277331541/posts/default/6138784510902280397'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6959614476277331541/posts/default/6138784510902280397'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cryingclown11.blogspot.com/2009/06/excruciating-memories.html' title='An Excruciating Memories'/><author><name>iamthea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16370199445401074388</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qgU4aqdx958/TAJ_YP3YpnI/AAAAAAAAADA/Ye9yJzsqBT8/S220/9220_1114208583043_1461788080_30266771_855773_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6959614476277331541.post-405407492003920140</id><published>2009-05-30T01:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-20T22:59:49.370-07:00</updated><title type='text'>chasing with the boys</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;Before the class will start i have two weeks to go after with my boys. I'm not referring the "boys" that is associated with crushes, suitors or what? I'm referring my boys with my three younger brothers. Since I'm the ate(eldest) the three of them is in my hands. Good thing they are already finished enrolled in their school. With the remaining weeks they're still enjoying the summer. They keep on asking me when the start of class is. And I keep on answering back to them that question a million times. Their excitement in school is in the highest level. Guess they really miss school where learning and fun is there.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;Taking care of my boys is not until this summer or after summer. It's forever. I'm going to be there for them until they grow up as a man. My mother can't afford to take care of them because she's still busy with her work. So I'm the eyes and ears of my boys. As an eldest and as a student my role is important in my family. It's really hard to pare my time with them coz for sure my time will utilize to my work in school. Now that I'm almost there in a finish lines of my schooling it's hard to balance my time with them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;My responsibility - is a matter of life and death. It's not gonna be easy on my part. There are times I don't bother to care for myself because I devote my time to my loved ones. And I can assure to them that my time will spent wisely.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6959614476277331541-405407492003920140?l=cryingclown11.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cryingclown11.blogspot.com/feeds/405407492003920140/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6959614476277331541&amp;postID=405407492003920140' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6959614476277331541/posts/default/405407492003920140'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6959614476277331541/posts/default/405407492003920140'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cryingclown11.blogspot.com/2009/05/chasing-with-boys.html' title='chasing with the boys'/><author><name>iamthea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16370199445401074388</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qgU4aqdx958/TAJ_YP3YpnI/AAAAAAAAADA/Ye9yJzsqBT8/S220/9220_1114208583043_1461788080_30266771_855773_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6959614476277331541.post-6882790770831157397</id><published>2009-05-27T08:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-20T23:01:03.328-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ordinary dream</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;one night I saw you in my dreams&lt;br /&gt;i didn't recognize your face and your lips&lt;br /&gt;all I know that you're standing right next to me&lt;br /&gt;who are you?&lt;br /&gt;are you the guy who'll make my dreams come true?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;why don't you show yourself up?&lt;br /&gt;and don't be afraid coz i want&lt;br /&gt;to know who you are please take care with me&lt;br /&gt;are you for real?&lt;br /&gt;or just an ordinary dream&lt;br /&gt;i want to touch and look your face&lt;br /&gt;and feel your warm embrace&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i saw you walking on the street&lt;br /&gt;wearing that beautiful smile&lt;br /&gt;you look the same guy that used to know before&lt;br /&gt;who are you?&lt;br /&gt;are you the guy who'll make my dreams come true?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;are you the guy I'm looking for?&lt;br /&gt;want to come and share my world?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6959614476277331541-6882790770831157397?l=cryingclown11.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cryingclown11.blogspot.com/feeds/6882790770831157397/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6959614476277331541&amp;postID=6882790770831157397' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6959614476277331541/posts/default/6882790770831157397'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6959614476277331541/posts/default/6882790770831157397'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cryingclown11.blogspot.com/2009/05/ordinary-dream.html' title='Ordinary dream'/><author><name>iamthea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16370199445401074388</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qgU4aqdx958/TAJ_YP3YpnI/AAAAAAAAADA/Ye9yJzsqBT8/S220/9220_1114208583043_1461788080_30266771_855773_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6959614476277331541.post-5004803934090246804</id><published>2009-04-30T08:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-20T23:07:46.811-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Summer Worries</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;I'm a little bit excited when I notice that it's almost the start of summer classes. I was delirious after the holy week. I prepared a lot of things. At that time I also got nervous if I'm going to fall in the hands of the spooky teachers. Anyway, I've got the wrong inference. It is the other way around. My teacher in my three subjects are not to much too handle.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;As my summer classes start I was not able to adjust to my schedule. My sleeping habits affect this classes. And take note, I'm not used to wake up at 7 in the morning. I'm not a morning person. I usually start my day at 10 am or 12 noon. So I get up at 5 am and prepare myself to go to school. I always ended up taking a nap in the jeepneys. Sorry, can't help it! I also feel sleepy in the class that's why I get low grades for not being attentive. In the meantime, I realized that I don't like to have this kind of demeanor. Maybe the first week made me feel oh boring! I didn't have the motivation (what the?). So I don't dwell on the negative vibes. I told myself "hey get up sleepy head!". After two weeks, I am in the right track. I managed to get up early in the morning and prepare for the thing that will come my way.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6959614476277331541-5004803934090246804?l=cryingclown11.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cryingclown11.blogspot.com/feeds/5004803934090246804/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6959614476277331541&amp;postID=5004803934090246804' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6959614476277331541/posts/default/5004803934090246804'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6959614476277331541/posts/default/5004803934090246804'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cryingclown11.blogspot.com/2009/04/summer-worries.html' title='Summer Worries'/><author><name>iamthea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16370199445401074388</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qgU4aqdx958/TAJ_YP3YpnI/AAAAAAAAADA/Ye9yJzsqBT8/S220/9220_1114208583043_1461788080_30266771_855773_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6959614476277331541.post-6952673885628047917</id><published>2009-03-29T07:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-20T23:12:13.656-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A must have for this summer</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;It's summer time and it's time to unwind. Relax and soothe yuorself this summer. Gone are the days of doing your school work, give yourself a break. Rejuvenate and treat yourself with the beautiful paradise here in&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Cebu. But of course before you prompt and divulge yourself in summer activites, there are a lot of things to be taking seriously. Since summer is hot, we don't want you to feel burning inside. So I prepare list of a must have for this summer for you to keep going. Check them out!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;1. Sunglasses -&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qgU4aqdx958/Sc-JjQX3OgI/AAAAAAAAABw/GAhQmUhSvbo/s1600-h/images.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 130px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 87px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318620923731327490" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qgU4aqdx958/Sc-JjQX3OgI/AAAAAAAAABw/GAhQmUhSvbo/s200/images.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;"&gt; many people find direct sunlight too bright to be comfortable. During the outdoor activities the human eye can receive more light than usual. Sunglasses can improve visual comfort and visual clarity by protecting the eye by glare. Excessive exposure to UV rays can cause short term and long term ocular problems.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;2. Lotion - your skin is your mirror to your internal health. Getting enough sleep, exercisingly regularly and eating a balnced diet will help your skin looks and feel its best.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qgU4aqdx958/Sc-L86o6axI/AAAAAAAAAB4/mWLXrG92uIs/s1600-h/180px-Man_sitting_under_beach_umbrella.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 133px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318623563597114130" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qgU4aqdx958/Sc-L86o6axI/AAAAAAAAAB4/mWLXrG92uIs/s200/180px-Man_sitting_under_beach_umbrella.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;3. Water - drink tons of water. Keep your body hydrated by drinking plenty of water and avoid caffeine and other substances.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;4. Moisturizer - it prevents dry skin, protect sensitive skin, improve skin tone and texture, and mask imperfections.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;5. Umbrella - used as protection against the scorching heat of the sun.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;6. Book - grab a bookl to read on summer. It could be from Paulo Coelho, Stephanie Meyer, Sidney Sheldon, Mitch Albom or any author you want to read. You could learn something by reading. It helps your brain to get access for the rest of the summer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 104px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 139px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318626081119605410" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qgU4aqdx958/Sc-OPdJDEqI/AAAAAAAAACQ/QPuJ-PMoJEk/s200/O2CA1YGAFFCARFKJU0CA7EJSPZCAHOEJ6LCAYQP29ZCAF2LIJLCAQF0VGBCA871XVFCAT8JJSOCA0A06H3CAFAEQTACAA8BX58CAAJL2XICADGOU1ICA0XIFYZCAU7SPXSCAUBG5VQCA611WGB.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;7. &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Bathing suits - you need&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;swimsuit for summer fun, at the beach, poolside activities or fashion shows or just to go swimming. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 118px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 112px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318627356095248978" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qgU4aqdx958/Sc-PZqy7elI/AAAAAAAAACY/Mut-xjws1o0/s200/6ICATT5XFQCAHCC1B6CAXS2LQ8CA1AJ4C3CA8BFRRQCAPVEFEZCAN5UFUPCAZRB2XECAW4CYZGCA49RWEJCAICA9YBCAL0N2UNCAPS890ICAA6Z8RUCAT0CIQ9CAIJ5KV3CABBOK1DCASUPK3U.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;8. SLR Camera - always remember memories are never to be forgotten.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;9. Journal -&lt;/span&gt; I used to have my journal to write the happenings in my life. It's private, though. It's good to reflect and your day-by-day events on it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;10. Bible - let God be a part of your summer activities. And read the bible always it's your food for your soul.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6959614476277331541-6952673885628047917?l=cryingclown11.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cryingclown11.blogspot.com/feeds/6952673885628047917/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6959614476277331541&amp;postID=6952673885628047917' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6959614476277331541/posts/default/6952673885628047917'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6959614476277331541/posts/default/6952673885628047917'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cryingclown11.blogspot.com/2009/03/must-have-for-this-summer.html' title='A must have for this summer'/><author><name>iamthea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16370199445401074388</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qgU4aqdx958/TAJ_YP3YpnI/AAAAAAAAADA/Ye9yJzsqBT8/S220/9220_1114208583043_1461788080_30266771_855773_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qgU4aqdx958/Sc-JjQX3OgI/AAAAAAAAABw/GAhQmUhSvbo/s72-c/images.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6959614476277331541.post-347322043559779726</id><published>2009-02-05T05:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-05T05:18:36.578-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Do the "deejay" thing!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;I’ve been practicing my spiels from my show (Quiet Storm) and make a lot of script for my episodes. I also practice on how the way I talk, how am I going to have an interaction with my audience and how am I going to entertain them. This “how” particularly gives me a lot of interesting ideas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Honestly, it’s really a “do-it-yourself-job”. In my case, I do the deejay and at the same time I’m the producer. So its quiet a little bit unusual. However, I just love what I’m doing. I just love to talk but not that spontaneously. Actually, our department head advice us to have a script because were not that professional yet. Good thing is we have the script for us to avoid dead air. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have this friend of mine, he’s a deejay from Cebu’s Brand of Radio (you might want to figure it out who is he?) I actually call up his attention to give some advice the day before our airing. And he said, “Just enjoy and play all favorite music”. Cool. I just love it. Because all the tracks that I’m going to play are sure all of my favorite. And my deejay friend has a good voice. I just can’t remove myself from getting struck on the radio every Sunday. And I think one qualification to be a deejay is to have a good voice quality. I’m not saying I do have the quality. But if you really want to hear me doing the deejay thing then you could always visit our website: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.stickam.com/dyar_usjr"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;www.stickam.com/dyar_usjr&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;. From that website, you can judge me if I really have the voice quality. Check them out dude! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6959614476277331541-347322043559779726?l=cryingclown11.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cryingclown11.blogspot.com/feeds/347322043559779726/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6959614476277331541&amp;postID=347322043559779726' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6959614476277331541/posts/default/347322043559779726'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6959614476277331541/posts/default/347322043559779726'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cryingclown11.blogspot.com/2009/02/do-deejay-thing.html' title='Do the &quot;deejay&quot; thing!'/><author><name>iamthea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16370199445401074388</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qgU4aqdx958/TAJ_YP3YpnI/AAAAAAAAADA/Ye9yJzsqBT8/S220/9220_1114208583043_1461788080_30266771_855773_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6959614476277331541.post-555442440893918748</id><published>2009-01-05T20:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-05T21:00:23.382-08:00</updated><title type='text'>DECODE</title><content type='html'>&lt;object type="application/x-shockwave-flash" data="http://widgets.metrolyrics.com/o/492da13d111f5ab4/4962e533aaad2a9e/492da13d46e17ea3/d5ed195e/-cpid/746efc558ac26a57" id="W492da13d111f5ab44962e533aaad2a9e" width="300" height="270"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://widgets.metrolyrics.com/o/492da13d111f5ab4/4962e533aaad2a9e/492da13d46e17ea3/d5ed195e/-cpid/746efc558ac26a57"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;param name="allowNetworking" value="all"&gt;&lt;param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.metrolyrics.com/paramore-lyrics.html"&gt;Paramore Lyrics&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.metrolyrics.com/"&gt;Decode Lyrics&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6959614476277331541-555442440893918748?l=cryingclown11.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cryingclown11.blogspot.com/feeds/555442440893918748/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6959614476277331541&amp;postID=555442440893918748' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6959614476277331541/posts/default/555442440893918748'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6959614476277331541/posts/default/555442440893918748'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cryingclown11.blogspot.com/2009/01/decode.html' title='DECODE'/><author><name>iamthea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16370199445401074388</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qgU4aqdx958/TAJ_YP3YpnI/AAAAAAAAADA/Ye9yJzsqBT8/S220/9220_1114208583043_1461788080_30266771_855773_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6959614476277331541.post-7001547349408166215</id><published>2009-01-05T20:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-05-30T01:22:38.100-07:00</updated><title type='text'>see you around</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0);font-family:verdana;" &gt;&lt;span style="BACKGROUND-COLOR: rgb(255,255,255);font-size:85%;" &gt;I composed a song entitled "see you around". This song is about a guy who I met in school way back 2006 in room 410 at 5:00 pm, with the help of my friend ( krizel thank you!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0);font-family:verdana;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;This guy happen to be my crush. And believe it or not I often see him accidentally in school passing by the lobby, faculty and in rooms. I really though he was nice and yes he is (reversed psychology).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0);font-family:verdana;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;So this is it "See you around". Hope you like it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN"&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;I can see it in your eyes that you still love this guy&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;but you did not know that he’s rejecting you&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;why can’t you move on to live your life through&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;be strong enough coz he’s not meant for you&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;see you around until next time &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;i already accept that you're not mine&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;it’s hard for me to let you go&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;but i guess i was right&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;to let myself&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;stop thinking of you&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;it’s gonna break my heart and i’m tearing apart&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;i did not know that you don’t want me no more&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;why can’t you move on to love your life through&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;be strong enough coz he’s not meant for you&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0);font-family:verdana;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6959614476277331541-7001547349408166215?l=cryingclown11.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cryingclown11.blogspot.com/feeds/7001547349408166215/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6959614476277331541&amp;postID=7001547349408166215' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6959614476277331541/posts/default/7001547349408166215'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6959614476277331541/posts/default/7001547349408166215'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cryingclown11.blogspot.com/2009/01/see-you-around.html' title='see you around'/><author><name>iamthea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16370199445401074388</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qgU4aqdx958/TAJ_YP3YpnI/AAAAAAAAADA/Ye9yJzsqBT8/S220/9220_1114208583043_1461788080_30266771_855773_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6959614476277331541.post-9189779842023613281</id><published>2008-12-30T00:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-30T00:28:38.394-08:00</updated><title type='text'>why hurry?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;They are in a hurry – my friends. They were desperate. They want to have a boyfriend. Why are they in a hurry? To think they’re too young to have in a relationship. Aside from that, how could you enjoy if you’re already committed in a relationship? Do you really want to have a boyfriend because its fad nowadays? So what if you’re single? Do guys have anything to do with that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being “SINGLE” for how many years doesn’t bother me at all. If it happens it will happen. If it comes it will come. If not, then that’s life. You have to accept it. If you force yourself to find for the “right one”, I’m sorry honey but it will not just come right there. Patience is still a virtue. Don’t find for it, let it find you – your true love (gee, sounds so corny!).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enjoy life. Appreciate every moment and take from these moments everything that you possibly can, for you may never be able to experience it again. And I’m sure God has his own reason and purpose for you. Don’t be in a hurry. As what Jordin Sparks said, there’s no need to rush, one step at a time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take it easy girls!&lt;br /&gt;Just go with the flow.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6959614476277331541-9189779842023613281?l=cryingclown11.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cryingclown11.blogspot.com/feeds/9189779842023613281/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6959614476277331541&amp;postID=9189779842023613281' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6959614476277331541/posts/default/9189779842023613281'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6959614476277331541/posts/default/9189779842023613281'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cryingclown11.blogspot.com/2008/12/why-hurry.html' title='why hurry?'/><author><name>iamthea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16370199445401074388</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qgU4aqdx958/TAJ_YP3YpnI/AAAAAAAAADA/Ye9yJzsqBT8/S220/9220_1114208583043_1461788080_30266771_855773_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6959614476277331541.post-1669623214795463310</id><published>2008-12-07T22:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-07T22:40:52.652-08:00</updated><title type='text'>ADRENALINE RUSH</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;I hate to see myself crying. It takes my adrenaline weaken. I feel guilty when I was not able to do the task that my mom was given to me this morning. I do my best. Yes, I really did. But my mom said "You lack initiative and You're effortless". She's upset with me. She doesn't trust me at all just because of that stupid task that I was not able to accomplished. It's been a couple of days that we didn't speak up. I hate to think that I'm guilty. It's hard for me to talk to her around. Because she will not entertain me. I miss my mom. I miss talking to her about a lot of things. My relationship towards her is in a silent mode. I miss the bound. It makes me weak. The Adrenaline jolted through my veins.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6959614476277331541-1669623214795463310?l=cryingclown11.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cryingclown11.blogspot.com/feeds/1669623214795463310/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6959614476277331541&amp;postID=1669623214795463310' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6959614476277331541/posts/default/1669623214795463310'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6959614476277331541/posts/default/1669623214795463310'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cryingclown11.blogspot.com/2008/12/adrenaline-rush.html' title='ADRENALINE RUSH'/><author><name>iamthea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16370199445401074388</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qgU4aqdx958/TAJ_YP3YpnI/AAAAAAAAADA/Ye9yJzsqBT8/S220/9220_1114208583043_1461788080_30266771_855773_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6959614476277331541.post-5425690728268278721</id><published>2008-12-01T16:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-04T04:32:55.618-08:00</updated><title type='text'>PAST IS PAST</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;It started with a game. It's not about thruth and consequences,though. But it's all about truth. So if you lose, we will gonna ask you some questions and you need to answer it honestly. Wow, it's though. The name of the game is 7up! So let's start the game.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;1 - 2 -3 -4 -5 -6 -7 up!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;Oopps, I lose. So the questions is related to my past love life (why in hell they want to know it?). They asked me if it's true that I cried about this guy who I loved before. And I started to laugh. I don't want to talk about this guy anymore because I'm not into him anymore. And guess what? the guy is included in the game. And his the one who asked the questions. So what I did I tell him the truth. There's so much I wanna tell but I guess I should limit myself. When talking about my past love life, I couldn't help myself to feel that kilig factor, you know. I still have the memories on my mind. It's hard to forget all the things that you've spent together. I don't know if he knows already the craziest things I've done for him. I really was thinking that "he's the one" for me. I was wrong. It's hard to accept the truth. That's why I'm giving myself a break at that moment. Time would be useful. time had passed, I learn the art of letting go. In the first place, it's not easy. But thanks God, I passed the tests. He let me know how to be hurt. And it's killing me, you know. Now, I'm looking forward for the things that life has to offfer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;1- 2 -3 -4 -5 -6 -7 up!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;Oopps. Now it's my time to ask him a question.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;If I said i love you, what credit is that to you?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6959614476277331541-5425690728268278721?l=cryingclown11.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cryingclown11.blogspot.com/feeds/5425690728268278721/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6959614476277331541&amp;postID=5425690728268278721' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6959614476277331541/posts/default/5425690728268278721'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6959614476277331541/posts/default/5425690728268278721'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cryingclown11.blogspot.com/2008/12/past-is-past.html' title='PAST IS PAST'/><author><name>iamthea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16370199445401074388</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qgU4aqdx958/TAJ_YP3YpnI/AAAAAAAAADA/Ye9yJzsqBT8/S220/9220_1114208583043_1461788080_30266771_855773_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6959614476277331541.post-5825270453238666000</id><published>2008-10-29T11:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-29T11:05:00.781-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Unnoticed</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;          Effortless, lazy ass, unworthy are the words that they described me. That I don’t know if it’s good to hear all the unpleasant words that are thrown from me. They don’t get me because if they did they will understand me. It’s really hard to explain a lot of things to the person that would never understand you. And what’s the purpose of explaining? Never crossing minds. I put words on their mouth, that’s why I’m getting pissed. Talk is cheap. So, I will not talk. I’ll let my eyes and my mind do the work. If I have some thoughts on my mind then I’ll find a person that I could talk to. A person understands me well, a person who is intellectually-stimulating. I’m getting used for rejection. Let them do their own work, for they never believe in my abilities’. As if they perfect-they know everything. I never gave them headaches but they don’t know that they’ve hurt me. Mixed emotions that can lead me to depressions. Laughter’s are my key weapons. I laugh without any reason. In that way, I can assure that I still have my side of being a funny girl. Happiness is all that you want. But it’s not permanent. There’s no permanent in this world. You can’t be happy always if there are things that are not on the right tract. Don’t forget that life has ups and downs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;          The persons that I’ve treasured in my life are giving me hesitations if they were truly real. They don’t feel my presence and worth because they keep on pestering. The problems that I wanted t share, now I’m keeping it to myself. In that way, no one would know what’s going on with my life. No more up-to-date. Consideration is a thought for others and their feelings. They don’t know that because they never tried it for once. Every time I’ll hear them talking, I’ll zip my mouth. My thoughts are ready for processing to speak-up. There are things that are not meant to be said. So, I’ll remain in silence. What makes it different if I’ll speak-up? What else for? They will not listen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;          You don’t always have to defend yourself with your words. Sometimes your silence gives you people a clue that you have better thoughts in mind. Appreciate is to recognized the value and to understand fully the things that happen to your life. You should learn the value of it because if you don’t all the things that happen in this world will remain unnoticed by you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6959614476277331541-5825270453238666000?l=cryingclown11.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cryingclown11.blogspot.com/feeds/5825270453238666000/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6959614476277331541&amp;postID=5825270453238666000' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6959614476277331541/posts/default/5825270453238666000'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6959614476277331541/posts/default/5825270453238666000'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cryingclown11.blogspot.com/2008/10/unnoticed.html' title='Unnoticed'/><author><name>iamthea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16370199445401074388</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qgU4aqdx958/TAJ_YP3YpnI/AAAAAAAAADA/Ye9yJzsqBT8/S220/9220_1114208583043_1461788080_30266771_855773_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6959614476277331541.post-6535838265934490581</id><published>2008-10-15T12:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-20T07:24:09.899-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Behind my pen and paper</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;I admire people who can write.&lt;br /&gt;I also admire myself that I can write.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Writing is really not my passion. I read a lot but I never write. I envy people who know the act of writing. Every morning you can spot me on my favorite couch reading newspapers (CDN and Sun Star) with my coffee. After reading all the news, I salute them for their abilities in writing skills. Perhaps you are wondering why I’m taking Mass Com. I love in the media industry. I love to be part of it but I think I will not survive. It’s not that I heard a lot of media killings everywhere. That Philippines is next to Iraq that most of the journalists are being killed. If I’m not really meant for that industry, then fine! Besides, I don’t gamble my life. There’s so much things that I can do. But if you love the craft then why not grab it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of my dreams in my life is to be an editor-in-chief of a lifestyle magazine. Isn’t it wonderful? Guess what? I don’t have what it takes to be one. Why not? I still have time maybe it’s not yet too late. Honestly, sometimes I don’t believe in my competence, that’s why I hate myself sometimes. People always don’t trust my capabilities, which why I treat myself as a shithead. I’m also afraid that one day I will end up jobless. But I believe that there’s really something out there for me. As of now, still practicing to write. I don’t know if people find my blog boring or if they able to catch me or what or maybe no sense at all! Never did I imagine that I can write. I thought it was hard. I thought brilliant minds can only write. What good about writhing is you can voice out what’s on you mind, people have emotions that’s why the express it and the reaction between you and the reader.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isn’t it nice when someone will find your blog readable?&lt;br /&gt;Doesn’t make sense to you at all?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6959614476277331541-6535838265934490581?l=cryingclown11.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cryingclown11.blogspot.com/feeds/6535838265934490581/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6959614476277331541&amp;postID=6535838265934490581' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6959614476277331541/posts/default/6535838265934490581'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6959614476277331541/posts/default/6535838265934490581'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cryingclown11.blogspot.com/2008/10/behind-my-pen-and-paper.html' title='Behind my pen and paper'/><author><name>iamthea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16370199445401074388</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qgU4aqdx958/TAJ_YP3YpnI/AAAAAAAAADA/Ye9yJzsqBT8/S220/9220_1114208583043_1461788080_30266771_855773_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6959614476277331541.post-4192585412084499242</id><published>2008-09-22T16:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-04T05:11:13.962-08:00</updated><title type='text'>You are not my friend that I've known before!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;I had this guy friend in my high school years who is very "kalog", funny. talkative, tack less and very kind. I always treated him as my "kuya". When I enter our room (I'm a sophomore at that time) he's the only one who approached me of all the students who are talking there. The approach was good that it made me feel comfortable around. He was asking like, "You're so familiar, have met before?". Gee, it's a small world after all we were classmate since elementary and I don't remember him at all. So, he introduced me to his friends. His friends became my friends already. We ate lunch together, we laugh, we shared life experiences. When I reached my junior years, we were doing all the crazy stuff in this world. So many intrigues, issues...but then the friendship never broke. There was a time that we have an open forum, we share all the "hinanakit" that we felt to our friends. It actually lead to the discussions of our future (careers). The guy and I planned to take the same course because we have the same interest. After saying all the careers that we want one of my friend said, "thetz, basin mag usab naka ha nya dili naka managa namo kung ma reporter naka!" I've been keeping that words to my mind. And I'm afraid that one day as I journey my life, I may change. "United we stand, Divided we fall." that's our motto in my senior years. We are really divided into groups with different personalities, attitude and views in life. My friends and I made a promise to each other that if we reached in college, we still communicate. Yeah! communicate is important!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;"Thetz asa naman ka?" My guy friend texted me many times. It was the first day of school (college years). And yes. we pursue the plan that we made before. We were taking the same course and guess what? were not classmate! That was the most embarrassing moment in my first day of school. Walking alone in the lobby, sitting with unknown people in the bench and strangers everywhere.....oh God help me! Day by day. I'm already used to it. The "koleheyala girl" as what they called it. Years have passed, there is something that is different about him. At first, I thought it was just normal, but then again it's not.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;He was minding his life and I also did. He has his friends and I have mine too. I really don't know if his aware or what. As what I have observed, he's adopting or shall we say influenced from his new peers. And I just can't talk to him like, "Hey! is that you?" because things were really different before. There was a time that I get jealous about him because of his friends. And the moment we see each other, I just stared at him. His friends were fashionista so as he. And I will not change my personality just to fit in their criteria. That's not me! If were friends, you've got to accept me for who I am not of what I have. I really don't know if he's changing or what maybe I change or the both of us? I know him better than he know and he also know me better than I know. I was hesitant to approach him because I know in the end I will loose. He has a different perception in his life right now and i can't rebut on that because it may lead to a misunderstanding. He already hurt me twice but he's not aware about it. Every time I speak, he will judge me! He's very competitive in terms of his studying, even though he will say he's not, but it shows. Whenever I'm in school, I just remained quiet. I only talk if he ask questions. There's already a gap between the both of us. He said he is willing to give up all the thing he possess. And the next day, he told me he want to buy this one and that one. Do you really mean what are you saying? I'm not the antagonist here, i wonder why he's acting like this. He's really not my friend that I've known before.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;I admit I changed but my attitude is there very intact! I've been through the levels of maturity and it's not easy. I'm glad that my circles of friends are there and very understandable. I'm happy that somehow I was changed (the good ones) for the good of others and at the same time for myself. I value life and I don't argue about it. I'm still who I am.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;How about him? I guess he also has changes in life. Yeah he did, I noticed it. I hope he will understand me the moment he will read this. I write because I observed there's something wrong. And don't think that I hate you or I feel hatred about you. I'm just concern as a friend. I don't question how you handle your life. You just have to think a million times before you talk. because you might know that there's someone out there who get hurt by your words and actions. And oh, by the way, who am I to judge your life? I'm only your friend anyways!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6959614476277331541-4192585412084499242?l=cryingclown11.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cryingclown11.blogspot.com/feeds/4192585412084499242/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6959614476277331541&amp;postID=4192585412084499242' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6959614476277331541/posts/default/4192585412084499242'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6959614476277331541/posts/default/4192585412084499242'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cryingclown11.blogspot.com/2008/09/you-are-not-my-friend-that-ive-known.html' title='You are not my friend that I&apos;ve known before!'/><author><name>iamthea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16370199445401074388</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qgU4aqdx958/TAJ_YP3YpnI/AAAAAAAAADA/Ye9yJzsqBT8/S220/9220_1114208583043_1461788080_30266771_855773_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6959614476277331541.post-6935312195774907302</id><published>2008-09-17T20:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-04T05:11:52.500-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My name, what does it mean?...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;I am usually the best at everything ... I strive for perfection. I am confident, authoritative, and aggressive. I have the classic "Type A" personality.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;I am very intuitive and wise. I understand the world better than most people.I also have a very active imagination. I often get carried away with your thoughts.I am prone to a little paranoia and jealousy. I sometimes go overboard in interpreting signals.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;I am friendly, charming, and warm. I get along with almost everyone.I work hard not to rock the boat. My easy going attitude brings people together.At times, I can be a little flaky and irresponsible. But for the important things, I pull it together.I am a seeker. I often find myself restless - and I have a lot of questions about life.I tend to travel often, to fairly random locations. I am most comfortable when I’m far away from home.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;I am quite passionate and easily tempted. My impulses sometimes get me into trouble.I’m truly an original person. I have amazing ideas, and the power to carry them out.Success comes rather easily for me... especially in business and academia.Some people find me to be selfish and a bit overbearing. I’m a strong person. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6959614476277331541-6935312195774907302?l=cryingclown11.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cryingclown11.blogspot.com/feeds/6935312195774907302/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6959614476277331541&amp;postID=6935312195774907302' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6959614476277331541/posts/default/6935312195774907302'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6959614476277331541/posts/default/6935312195774907302'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cryingclown11.blogspot.com/2008/09/my-name-what-does-it-mean.html' title='My name, what does it mean?...'/><author><name>iamthea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16370199445401074388</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qgU4aqdx958/TAJ_YP3YpnI/AAAAAAAAADA/Ye9yJzsqBT8/S220/9220_1114208583043_1461788080_30266771_855773_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6959614476277331541.post-6069798267906267005</id><published>2008-09-04T20:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-04T05:12:29.506-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Cherished lessons from Mom</title><content type='html'>&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;My mother taught me to &lt;strong&gt;appreciate a Job well done.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;"If you're going to kill each other, do it outside. I just finished cleaning!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;My mother taught me &lt;strong&gt;about religion&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;" You better pray that stain will come out of the carpet."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;My mother taught me &lt;strong&gt;about time travel&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;" I you don't straighten up I'm going to knock you into the middle of the week."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;My mother taught me &lt;strong&gt;logic&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;" Because I said so, that's why."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;My mother taught me &lt;strong&gt;logic #2&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;" If you fall out of that swing and break your neck, you're not going to the store with me."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;My mother taught me&lt;strong&gt; foresight&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;" Make sure you wear clean underwear, in case you're in an accident."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;My mother taught me &lt;strong&gt;Irony&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;" Keep crying and I'll give you something to cry about."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;My mother taught me &lt;strong&gt;about the science of osmosis&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;" Shut your mouth and eat your dinner!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;My mother taught me&lt;strong&gt; how to be a contortionist&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;" Will you look at the dirt on the back of your neck!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;My mother taught me &lt;strong&gt;about stamina&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;" You'll sit there 'till all that mashed potato is finished."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;My mother taught me &lt;strong&gt;about the weather&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;" It looks as if a tornado swept to your room."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;My mother taught me &lt;strong&gt;how to solve physical problems&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;" If I yelled because I saw a meteor coming toward you, would you listen?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;My mother taught me &lt;strong&gt;about hypocrisy&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;" if I told you once, I've told you a million times don't exaggerate!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;My mother taught me&lt;strong&gt; the circle of life&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;" I brought you into this world, and I can take you out.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;My mother taught me &lt;strong&gt;about behavior medication&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;" Stop acting like your sister!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;My mother taught me &lt;strong&gt;about envy&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;" There are millions of less fortunate children in this world who don't have wonderful parents like you do."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;My mother taught me &lt;strong&gt;about anticipation&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;" Just wait until we get home."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;My mother taught me &lt;strong&gt;about the thrill of receiving&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;" You are going to get it when we get home."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;My mother taught me &lt;strong&gt;medical science&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;" If you don't stop crossing your eyes, they are going to freeze that way."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;My mother taught me &lt;strong&gt;about thinking ahead&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;" If you don't pass your spelling test, you'll never get a job."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;My mother taught me &lt;strong&gt;humor&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;" When that cockroach cuts off your toes, don't come running to me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;My mother taught me &lt;strong&gt;how to become an adult&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;" If you don't eat your vegetables, you'll never grow up.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;My mother taught me &lt;strong&gt;about my roots&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;" Do you think you were born in a barn?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;My mother taught me &lt;strong&gt;about wisdom of age&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;" When you get to be my age. you will understand."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;And the all time favorite, My mother taught me &lt;strong&gt;about Justice&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;" One day you'll have kids and I hope they turn out just like you."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6959614476277331541-6069798267906267005?l=cryingclown11.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cryingclown11.blogspot.com/feeds/6069798267906267005/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6959614476277331541&amp;postID=6069798267906267005' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6959614476277331541/posts/default/6069798267906267005'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6959614476277331541/posts/default/6069798267906267005'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cryingclown11.blogspot.com/2008/09/cherished-lessons-from-mom.html' title='Cherished lessons from Mom'/><author><name>iamthea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16370199445401074388</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qgU4aqdx958/TAJ_YP3YpnI/AAAAAAAAADA/Ye9yJzsqBT8/S220/9220_1114208583043_1461788080_30266771_855773_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6959614476277331541.post-967717217295011948</id><published>2008-08-29T21:50:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-04T05:12:57.253-08:00</updated><title type='text'>For 19 years....,</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;All my life I've been facing a lot of challenges, responsibility, problems and criticism but i still able to keep my feet on the ground and pray that I could solve these problems. I never imagine that God has given me much blessings than I expected and I appreciated it. Everyday I always thanked God for the gift of life that he has given me. That he let me open my eyes to the beautiful things that he himself created. He also let me experienced how to be hurt, how to be loved and how to be lived. I am so happy and glad that he's always beside me guiding- which path and road I should take. I thanked him for giving:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;A WONDERFUL FRIENDS&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;" Tell me who your friends are and I will tell you who you are." My friends and I shared a lot of memories for the past three years. I admit it's hard to predict who really is your friends but these REAL and TRUE friends of mine were absolutely different. There are the ones who who constantly remind me to be humble yet despite of my imperfections they embraced and comfort me. We talk a lot, laugh as much as we can, we shared problems, we cry, we comfort each other. that's my friends are.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;A HAPPY FAMILY&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;I've been waiting for the day that God will give me a happy happy family and he grant my wish. When was in my teen age years, I don't have the strong foundation of what we called "FAMILY". My mom and I were always fighting for a lot of things and I couldn't help but cry. Crying is always my friend. I cry because I get hurt and pray that these things will turned into good ones. When don, my step dad came into our life everything changes. He let me show what's the important of the word "FAMILY". Until then, I never expected that I already have the strong foundation of my family. We talk often, we eat dinner together, we go shopping, we hang out and have dinner at the restaurant and we also share life experiences. I really thanked God for giving me enough TIME for my family.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;Now that I'm coming 19 this Aug. 31 which is Sunday, I couldn't ask for more than the love that God has given me. I know I don't have to worry at all because i believe he will never leave me. And I will never get tired of saying THANK YOU! as I grow older. Imagine if you don't have God in your LIFE.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6959614476277331541-967717217295011948?l=cryingclown11.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cryingclown11.blogspot.com/feeds/967717217295011948/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6959614476277331541&amp;postID=967717217295011948' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6959614476277331541/posts/default/967717217295011948'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6959614476277331541/posts/default/967717217295011948'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cryingclown11.blogspot.com/2008/08/for-19-years.html' title='For 19 years....,'/><author><name>iamthea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16370199445401074388</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qgU4aqdx958/TAJ_YP3YpnI/AAAAAAAAADA/Ye9yJzsqBT8/S220/9220_1114208583043_1461788080_30266771_855773_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6959614476277331541.post-456964797651612563</id><published>2008-08-29T21:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-04T05:13:27.919-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Life as we know it!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;Sometimes people came into your life and you know right away that they were meant to be there, teach you a lesson or to help you figure out who you are or who you want to become. You never learn who these people maybe (possibly your roommate, neighbor, co-worker, long lost best friend, lover or even a complete stranger), but when you look eyes with them. You know at that very moment they will affect your life in some profound way.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;And sometimes things happen to you that may seen horrible,painful and unfair at first, but in reflection you find that without overcoming those obstacles you would have never realized your potential, strength, will, power or your heart. Everything happens for a reason. Nothing happens by chance or by means of good luck. Illness, injury, love, lost moments of true greatness and show stupidity all occur to test the limits of your soul. Without these small tests, whatever they may be, life would be safe like a smoothly paused, straight, flat road to nowhere. It would be safe and comfortable, but dull and utterly print less.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;The people you meet who affect your life and the success and downfalls your experience, help to create who you are and who you become. Even the bad experiences can be learned from. In fact, they are probably the most poignant and important ones. If someone hurts you, betrays you or breaks your heart, forgive them for they have helped you learn about trust and the importance of being cautious when you open your heart. If someone loves you, love them back unconditionally not only because they loved you, but because in a way, they are teaching you to love and how to open your heart and eyes to things.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;Make everyday count. Appreciate every moment and take from those moments everything that you possibly can, for you may never be able to experience it again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6959614476277331541-456964797651612563?l=cryingclown11.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cryingclown11.blogspot.com/feeds/456964797651612563/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6959614476277331541&amp;postID=456964797651612563' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6959614476277331541/posts/default/456964797651612563'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6959614476277331541/posts/default/456964797651612563'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cryingclown11.blogspot.com/2008/07/life-as-we-know-it.html' title='Life as we know it!'/><author><name>iamthea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16370199445401074388</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qgU4aqdx958/TAJ_YP3YpnI/AAAAAAAAADA/Ye9yJzsqBT8/S220/9220_1114208583043_1461788080_30266771_855773_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6959614476277331541.post-1543543930850625909</id><published>2008-08-10T03:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-04T05:13:56.233-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Don't Stress, Don't Stress</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qgU4aqdx958/SJ7EPxQiiEI/AAAAAAAAABI/c2gCL77j4vo/s1600-h/1_788201262l.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5232835592250886210" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qgU4aqdx958/SJ7EPxQiiEI/AAAAAAAAABI/c2gCL77j4vo/s200/1_788201262l.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;Gone are the days of being so relaxed at school. As if there is no projects or assignments that needs to be done. As a student enrolled in a prestigious university, you can't predict whether the students is studious or not (we term it as "naning").&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;But in my cases, I feel so relaxed (as well as my colleague0 from the past few days. When mid-term exam are fast approaching, I can't count how many projects, business letters, video documented stories, assignments,. . . that needs to be pass before exam. The worst thing is, I don't know how and where to start.This is really the time and the moment that I can feel the pressure as a student. I love being busy all the time. It makes me strive and motivate everyday.I can easily organize and match things up. I don't care if people might think that I'm crazy. As long as I am happy of what I'm doing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;Never mind the sleepless nights and the stress. What matters most is you have the drive to do anything you love.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6959614476277331541-1543543930850625909?l=cryingclown11.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cryingclown11.blogspot.com/feeds/1543543930850625909/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6959614476277331541&amp;postID=1543543930850625909' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6959614476277331541/posts/default/1543543930850625909'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6959614476277331541/posts/default/1543543930850625909'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cryingclown11.blogspot.com/2008/08/dont-stress-dont-stress_10.html' title='Don&apos;t Stress, Don&apos;t Stress'/><author><name>iamthea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16370199445401074388</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qgU4aqdx958/TAJ_YP3YpnI/AAAAAAAAADA/Ye9yJzsqBT8/S220/9220_1114208583043_1461788080_30266771_855773_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qgU4aqdx958/SJ7EPxQiiEI/AAAAAAAAABI/c2gCL77j4vo/s72-c/1_788201262l.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
