<?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-25333116</id><updated>2011-06-24T20:01:11.221+08:00</updated><title type='text'>frozen moments in my life</title><subtitle type='html'>melt as I write them</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirroring-me.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25333116/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirroring-me.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>diana chan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09389162187263846869</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>32</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25333116.post-8090804005568835578</id><published>2007-02-18T22:44:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-02-18T22:51:09.368+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="body"&gt;&lt;span class="pg"&gt;HAPPINESS&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;–noun  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;table class="luna-Ent"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="dn" valign="top"&gt;1.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td valign="top"&gt;the quality or state of being happy. &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;  &lt;table class="luna-Ent"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="dn" valign="top"&gt;2.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td valign="top"&gt;good fortune; pleasure; contentment; joy. &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="tail"&gt;&lt;hr class="ety"&gt;&lt;div class="ety"&gt;[Origin: &lt;span class="rom-inline"&gt;1520–30; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;a href="http://dictionary.reference.com/search?q=happy" style="font-variant: small-caps;"&gt;happy&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/span&gt;+ &lt;span&gt;&lt;a href="http://dictionary.reference.com/search?q=-ness" style="font-variant: small-caps;"&gt;-ness&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;img class="luna-Img" src="http://cache.lexico.com/dictionary/graphics/luna/thinsp.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;] &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="sectionLabel"&gt;—Synonyms &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="dn"&gt;1, 2&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/b&gt; pleasure, joy, exhilaration, bliss, contentedness, delight, enjoyment, satisfaction. &lt;span class="sc"&gt;Happiness,&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="sc"&gt;bliss,&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="sc"&gt;contentment,&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="sc"&gt;felicity&lt;/span&gt; imply an active or passive state of pleasure or pleasurable satisfaction. &lt;span class="sc"&gt;Happiness&lt;/span&gt; results from the possession or attainment of what one considers good: &lt;span class="ital-inline"&gt;the happiness of visiting one's family. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="sc"&gt;Bliss&lt;/span&gt; is unalloyed happiness or supreme delight: &lt;span class="ital-inline"&gt;the bliss of perfect companionship. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="sc"&gt;Contentment&lt;/span&gt; is a peaceful kind of happiness in which one rests without desires, even though every wish may not have been gratified: &lt;span class="ital-inline"&gt;contentment in one's surroundings. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="sc"&gt;Felicity&lt;/span&gt; is a formal word for happiness of an especially fortunate or intense kind: &lt;span class="ital-inline"&gt;to wish a young couple felicity in life. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="sectionLabel"&gt;—Antonyms &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="dn"&gt;1&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/b&gt; misery.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BLISS&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="pg"&gt;–noun  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;table class="luna-Ent"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="dn" valign="top"&gt;1.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td valign="top"&gt;supreme happiness; utter joy or contentment: &lt;span class="ital-inline"&gt;wedded bliss. &lt;/span&gt; &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;  &lt;table class="luna-Ent"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="dn" valign="top"&gt;2.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td valign="top"&gt;&lt;span class="labset"&gt;&lt;span class="ital-inline"&gt;Theology&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;the joy of heaven. &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;  &lt;table class="luna-Ent"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="dn" valign="top"&gt;3.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td valign="top"&gt;heaven; paradise: &lt;span class="ital-inline"&gt;the road to eternal bliss. &lt;/span&gt; &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;  &lt;table class="luna-Ent"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="dn" valign="top"&gt;4.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td valign="top"&gt;&lt;span class="labset"&gt;&lt;span class="ital-inline"&gt;Archaic&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;a cause of great joy or happiness. &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;  &lt;span class="sectionLabel"&gt;—Idiom&lt;/span&gt;&lt;table class="luna-Ent"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="dn" valign="top"&gt;5.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td valign="top"&gt;&lt;span class="labset"&gt;&lt;span class="ital-inline"&gt;Slang&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="secondary-bf"&gt;bliss out, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;table class="luna-Ent"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="dn" valign="top"&gt;a.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td valign="top"&gt;to experience bliss or euphoria: &lt;span class="ital-inline"&gt;Just give them some bean sprouts and a little tofu and they bliss out. &lt;/span&gt; &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;  &lt;table class="luna-Ent"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="dn" valign="top"&gt;b.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td valign="top"&gt;to cause to become blissful or euphoric: &lt;span class="ital-inline"&gt;a recording guaranteed to bliss out every Mozart fan.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to be happy and be the cause for bliss&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25333116-8090804005568835578?l=mirroring-me.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirroring-me.blogspot.com/feeds/8090804005568835578/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25333116&amp;postID=8090804005568835578' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25333116/posts/default/8090804005568835578'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25333116/posts/default/8090804005568835578'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirroring-me.blogspot.com/2007/02/happiness-noun-1.html' title=''/><author><name>diana chan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09389162187263846869</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25333116.post-117067404902025636</id><published>2007-02-05T18:56:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-02-05T19:14:09.076+08:00</updated><title type='text'>only you</title><content type='html'>I believe in the fact that a person who had caused pain for you is the only person who can&lt;br /&gt;lift up that pain from you. Yes,maybe your friends could lift up those negative feelings&lt;br /&gt;but it's still different if the person who hurt you said 'I'm sorry' or 'I still care for&lt;br /&gt;you'. It's different.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It may be hard for that person because such things as hurting people are not curable&lt;br /&gt;instantly. For that person,he/she must go through some realizations and effort of making&lt;br /&gt;amends in order for him/her to salvage the feelings that he/she had crushed. It really is&lt;br /&gt;hard for that person because they have to realize too that they ARE the only one who is&lt;br /&gt;capable of making the person who they have hurted happy. After all, if you hurt someone you&lt;br /&gt;cared for, it might be bearable if you lose contact with that person forever. Right? Such&lt;br /&gt;things do have their heavy main points, but the main thing is YOU are the only person who&lt;br /&gt;could EVER cure the hurt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is such a very vague perspective, but I do believe in such because I want to have that&lt;br /&gt;experience in my life now and vice versa.c&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25333116-117067404902025636?l=mirroring-me.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirroring-me.blogspot.com/feeds/117067404902025636/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25333116&amp;postID=117067404902025636' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25333116/posts/default/117067404902025636'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25333116/posts/default/117067404902025636'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirroring-me.blogspot.com/2007/02/only-you.html' title='only you'/><author><name>diana chan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09389162187263846869</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25333116.post-116996072584100998</id><published>2007-01-28T13:02:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-01-28T13:05:25.853+08:00</updated><title type='text'>new year</title><content type='html'>This year has been definietly a new year for me. Perhaps, because I realized many things&lt;br /&gt;that was happening in my life that was so wrong. I didn't have self-confidence. i let people&lt;br /&gt;get to me psycologically therefore making me look down on myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recently, I heard from my theo prof that suffering comes from the imagination but the feeling&lt;br /&gt;of suffering was very real. If one is suffering one must think that others have felt the same&lt;br /&gt;way, but if you see someone suffering you should treat is as a unique feeling. I guess my&lt;br /&gt;other classmates didn't care about this topic, but i really was taken aback by what she said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was the truth. All my suffering are based on my imagination. I always hear my friends&lt;br /&gt;complementing other people and somehow I got to the point that i always see other people as&lt;br /&gt;greater than me. This was not real because I am no lesser than them. My mispersception made&lt;br /&gt;suffer. I was too optimistic of other people and too pessimistic of myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember after high school I promised myself to never be affected of what others think of&lt;br /&gt;me, but i guess it was a hypocrital thought for me. It was stupid. A person would never be&lt;br /&gt;not affected by others because whether we hide it or not, we do have a heart. I thought I&lt;br /&gt;was finally proud of myself but in reality I was not. I was continuously trying to reach up&lt;br /&gt;to the standards that other people specially the people who i like romantically. If he&lt;br /&gt;complains that I'm too conservative, I try my best not to be. If he says that I'm not sweet&lt;br /&gt;enough, I try to get sweet and thoughtful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was so wrong. I was losing my identity that I loved. I thought that I was just&lt;br /&gt;compromising because I thought that he was right. I didn't stop to think if it was for the&lt;br /&gt;good of me. Sure, our relationship would get better but I would be losing who I was. I&lt;br /&gt;don't blame that person though. I blame myself for being too insecure of myself. i should've&lt;br /&gt;fought for myself. I should have considered myself first if I was what he thought me to be.&lt;br /&gt;I am so pathetic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My insecurities of what I am is one of my greatest weakness. Maybe because I was never&lt;br /&gt;complimented in my family? No, it's another excuse. I'm just weak minded. I will not make&lt;br /&gt;role models of others anymore. I will build myself to be my own role model.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25333116-116996072584100998?l=mirroring-me.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirroring-me.blogspot.com/feeds/116996072584100998/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25333116&amp;postID=116996072584100998' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25333116/posts/default/116996072584100998'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25333116/posts/default/116996072584100998'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirroring-me.blogspot.com/2007/01/new-year.html' title='new year'/><author><name>diana chan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09389162187263846869</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25333116.post-116972987972176670</id><published>2007-01-25T20:35:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-01-25T20:57:59.750+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I feel ugly. I feel rejected. I feel fat. I feel betrayal. I feel sick. I feel stupid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm feeling what I shouldn't be feeling because this is unhealthy. My friends say its in my head and I should move on. I try yet I fail. I feel alone like nobody would be able to &lt;br /&gt;understand what I'm going through. Somebody even told me to get a shrink. Should I? Why is &lt;br /&gt;that I'm going insane.  Why do I feel so uncntent in my life? I want to be rich, beautiful &lt;br /&gt;and be loved, but I don't feel those things. Perhaps I'm ridiculous in the first place to &lt;br /&gt;want all those things, but even if I told that to myself, I still feel it. I still feel&lt;br /&gt;lonely because I don't get what I want. Are these all in my head? I keep asking myself that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At school, I always see others which are materialization of what I want to become. I want to be intelligent, pretty, and loved by others. I keep asking myself..do I have fewer friends than them because I wasn't friendly enough and so I can't join their wagon? am I not pretty enough for myself only and not to others? I hear people complementing me yet sometimes I &lt;br /&gt;just shrug it off because they know me. Am I that a doubtful person?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Honestly, it was only during college when I felt this alone. I don't know why. Maybe I &lt;br /&gt;wasn't able to mesh with other people enough to have new friends. Is this just simply a &lt;br /&gt;fact of life or am I really bound to be alone in college? God..I really feel so alone right now. I'm so depressed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are all of this pressure my imagination? I hope so. I feel so depressed. I don't know if I'm just pushing myself too hard. I just want to have a fairy tale life. This is insane..I don't know what's happening to me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25333116-116972987972176670?l=mirroring-me.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirroring-me.blogspot.com/feeds/116972987972176670/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25333116&amp;postID=116972987972176670' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25333116/posts/default/116972987972176670'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25333116/posts/default/116972987972176670'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirroring-me.blogspot.com/2007/01/i-feel-ugly.html' title=''/><author><name>diana chan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09389162187263846869</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25333116.post-116870250541882638</id><published>2007-01-13T23:32:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-01-13T23:35:05.430+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sunday Morning Call</title><content type='html'>here's another sunday morning call&lt;br /&gt;yer hear yer head-a-banging on the door&lt;br /&gt;slip your shoes on and then out you crawl&lt;br /&gt;into a day that couldn't give you more&lt;br /&gt;but what for?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; and in your head do you feel&lt;br /&gt;what you're not supposed to feel&lt;br /&gt;you take what you want&lt;br /&gt;but you won't get it for free&lt;br /&gt;you need more time&lt;br /&gt;cos your thoughts and words won't last forever more&lt;br /&gt;but i'm not sure if it ever works out right&lt;br /&gt;but it's ok. it's all right&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; when yer lonely and you start to hear&lt;br /&gt;the little voices in your head at night&lt;br /&gt;you will only sniff away the tears&lt;br /&gt;so you can dance until the morning light&lt;br /&gt;at what price&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; and in your head do you feel&lt;br /&gt;what you're not supposed to feel&lt;br /&gt;you take what you want&lt;br /&gt;but you won't get it for free&lt;br /&gt;you need more time&lt;br /&gt;cos your thoughts and words won't last forever more&lt;br /&gt;but i'm not sure if it ever works out right&lt;br /&gt;but it's ok. it's all right&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; and in your head do you feel&lt;br /&gt;what you're not supposed to feel&lt;br /&gt;you take what you want&lt;br /&gt;you don't get hope for free&lt;br /&gt;you need more time&lt;br /&gt;cos your thoughts and words won't last forever more&lt;br /&gt;and i'm not sure if it'll ever, ever, ever work out right&lt;br /&gt;will it ever, ever, ever work out right?&lt;br /&gt;cos it never, never, never works out right&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25333116-116870250541882638?l=mirroring-me.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirroring-me.blogspot.com/feeds/116870250541882638/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25333116&amp;postID=116870250541882638' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25333116/posts/default/116870250541882638'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25333116/posts/default/116870250541882638'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirroring-me.blogspot.com/2007/01/sunday-morning-call.html' title='Sunday Morning Call'/><author><name>diana chan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09389162187263846869</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25333116.post-116533266740298913</id><published>2006-12-05T23:27:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-12-05T23:31:07.416+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Panaginip</title><content type='html'>Para sa minamahal minahal mamahalin&lt;br /&gt;Ang akdang ito ay isang bangungot panaginip pangarap&lt;br /&gt;Walang sasay ngunit naiisip pa rin&lt;br /&gt;Nabubulabog&lt;br /&gt;Mangyayari ba tlga ang nais?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ako'y lilipad hahanapin bibisita&lt;br /&gt;Sa isang brilyanteng aking kinapupusuan&lt;br /&gt;Sa pagkatagpo..hihinga pipikit hihinga ulit ng maingat&lt;br /&gt;Hahamaking mapasarili muli&lt;br /&gt;Ang brilyanteng aking kinapupusuan&lt;br /&gt;Hahamaking mapanatili pa rin&lt;br /&gt;Itong brilyanteng aking kinapupusuan&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ngunit mahirap..ewan ko..napakahirap&lt;br /&gt;Dahil hindi ito naangkin&lt;br /&gt;Paiba-iba ito ng hugis at itsura&lt;br /&gt;Minsa'y nagpapalit din ng pangalan&lt;br /&gt;Hindi talagang malalaman kung anung tamang gawin&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nakita ko na ang brilyanteng aking kinapupusuan&lt;br /&gt;May kausap..nakangiti..&lt;br /&gt;Tila wala na talagang pahid ng pagkatao ko&lt;br /&gt;Bumalik na yata sa dating hugis at itsura bago pa man siyang natagpuan&lt;br /&gt;Bumalik sa dati ang pangalan&lt;br /&gt;Puso'y biglang nasaksak nanghihingalo namamatay&lt;br /&gt;Puso'y ding nangarap&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Baka kulang pa nga ang nakikita. Tama."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Susubukang tingnan mabuti hanggang ang kasalungat ang nangyari&lt;br /&gt;Siya na ang tumitingin&lt;br /&gt;Palapit na&lt;br /&gt;Humigpit ang hawak sa kuwintas na tila agimat&lt;br /&gt;dahil may kapangyarihan nga ito&lt;br /&gt;Bubukas ang labi&lt;br /&gt;Magsasalita..kakausapin ang pinagmasdang babae..&lt;br /&gt;At walang narinig ang babae&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Para sa minamahal minahal mamahalin&lt;br /&gt;Ang akdang ito ay isang bangungot panaginip pangarap&lt;br /&gt;Walang sasay ngunit naiisip pa rin&lt;br /&gt;Nabubulabog&lt;br /&gt;Mangyayari ba talaga ang nais?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25333116-116533266740298913?l=mirroring-me.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirroring-me.blogspot.com/feeds/116533266740298913/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25333116&amp;postID=116533266740298913' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25333116/posts/default/116533266740298913'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25333116/posts/default/116533266740298913'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirroring-me.blogspot.com/2006/12/panaginip.html' title='Panaginip'/><author><name>diana chan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09389162187263846869</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25333116.post-116419321898272853</id><published>2006-11-22T18:59:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-28T13:06:26.430+08:00</updated><title type='text'>To look and see?</title><content type='html'>There are times when you come to realize that no one could ever understand what goes inside mind of the people around you.  Psychology and sociology may perhaps help you define the source of their ways of thinking and behavior,but when it comes to making friends, understanding the situation of other people, and other such things. These sciences would not help you that much. Its because the explanations is too general and has to encompass a person's background,lifestyle, friends, family, school, personality, etc. Without considering all these things, being a psychologist and sociologist would be worthless because they themselves experience insecurities,get influenced by their peers, and have troubles with their not-so-good family. My point is that all of us humans stand on the same ground.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I always feel helpless whenever I can't understand a loved one or vice versa.  For me, it's the root of all arguments. Today, my theology prof said that love was not blind.  It is when you see something, a potential, in the soul of your loved one. Now, is this a form of special understanding? Or as others would say, stupidity?  If I understood more,would everything become simple, black and white and so forth? Would I be able to satisfy everyone even myself?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a mystery...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25333116-116419321898272853?l=mirroring-me.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirroring-me.blogspot.com/feeds/116419321898272853/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25333116&amp;postID=116419321898272853' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25333116/posts/default/116419321898272853'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25333116/posts/default/116419321898272853'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirroring-me.blogspot.com/2006/11/to-look-and-see.html' title='To look and see?'/><author><name>diana chan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09389162187263846869</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25333116.post-116375252471828384</id><published>2006-11-17T16:34:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-17T16:35:24.730+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Nothing</title><content type='html'>In the past, I had always thought that depending so much on someone else was stupid. One can&lt;br /&gt;live life alone. If you make yourself weak by revealing that you need that person to&lt;br /&gt;function fully, then you are a loser. Dreams are supposed to be achieved by oneself. You&lt;br /&gt;don't need moral support or encouragement. All you need are money, perserverance, intellect,&lt;br /&gt;and determination.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But now I feel different because I don't think I could live without him.  Even a day of not&lt;br /&gt;communicating with him is driving me nuts. I can't do anything at all except pour all my&lt;br /&gt;frustrations here in this blog. I know I have a lot of things to do.  All my profs are&lt;br /&gt;absolutely demanding and my grades really need my attention. But what am I doing now? I'm&lt;br /&gt;typing for my new entry while I'm waiting for our quality time together after his work is&lt;br /&gt;over. To a goal-oriented person, this would be clearly a waste of time. Even if somebody&lt;br /&gt;scolds me or whatever, I don't think I could do what I should do.  If I was to read, I would&lt;br /&gt;just be looking at the paper itself and not on the words. I'm clearly a zombie now.  I've&lt;br /&gt;been bitten by sadness and the only person who could turn me human again is him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm really missing him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25333116-116375252471828384?l=mirroring-me.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirroring-me.blogspot.com/feeds/116375252471828384/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25333116&amp;postID=116375252471828384' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25333116/posts/default/116375252471828384'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25333116/posts/default/116375252471828384'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirroring-me.blogspot.com/2006/11/nothing.html' title='Nothing'/><author><name>diana chan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09389162187263846869</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25333116.post-116373267918984405</id><published>2006-11-17T10:00:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-17T11:04:39.203+08:00</updated><title type='text'>panalangin ko rin</title><content type='html'>Panalangin ko sa habang buhay &lt;br /&gt;Makapiling ka makasama ka &lt;br /&gt;Yan ang panalangin ko &lt;br /&gt;At hindi papayag &lt;br /&gt;Ang pusong ito &lt;br /&gt;Mawala ka sa 'king piling &lt;br /&gt;Mahal ko iyong dinggin &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At wala nang iba pang mas mahalaga &lt;br /&gt;Sa tamis na tulad ng pag-ibig nating dalawa &lt;br /&gt;Sana naman makikinig ka &lt;br /&gt;Kapag aking sasabihing minamahal kita &lt;br /&gt;Panalangin..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;-APO HIKING SOCIETY&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25333116-116373267918984405?l=mirroring-me.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirroring-me.blogspot.com/feeds/116373267918984405/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25333116&amp;postID=116373267918984405' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25333116/posts/default/116373267918984405'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25333116/posts/default/116373267918984405'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirroring-me.blogspot.com/2006/11/panalangin-ko-rin.html' title='panalangin ko rin'/><author><name>diana chan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09389162187263846869</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25333116.post-116348033964251837</id><published>2006-11-14T12:22:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-14T12:58:59.696+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sweetest guy I had ever met.YOU.</title><content type='html'>What's the sweetest thing that a guy could do for you?  Naturally, girls would definitely say having a guy being a gentleman, giving flowers, showering of gifts, always having time for them and so on.  Yes, all of these may have all those "kilig factors". But the length of time he would do this or the reason for doing this is somewhat a puzzle.  Is he doing this because of the mere fact that you're his girlfriend or crush at the moment? Or is he doing this because he wants you to feel special and become happy?  In our times, the initial statement would be the probable explanation for such actions, and those guys who'd do those sweet things for the girl ONLY is indeed very hard to find.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All my life, I had this secret dream of finding the perfect guy for me.  Growing up, I saw those guys including my own brother only trapping girls into their clutches and then fading away when the girls get attached. It was as if nothing special had happened.  It was like their paths didn't cross. PERIOD.  I had some light experiences from those kind of guys, but I pity those other girls having deep relationships with those kind of guys.  Their egos get hurt, and sometimes even their lives get affected.  As I saw these girls having their hearts crushed by and by, I became pessimistic about love.  There is no way that I could find a sweet guy wanting to take care of me and make me happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, however, I'm glad to say..I was very very wrong (hehehee) because I did find the perfect guy for me whose concern is me.  Actually, he found me and even he's so far away in hamburger-a-gogo land, I can't say that has any "pagkukulang" as a boyfriend. In fact, I'm always overwhelmed by his sweetness. I mean, where could you find a guy who would say 'i love you' every conversation, stay up all night until the morning just to talk to you, worry for your health and well-being, and say 'you're beautiful' everyday to you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other people would say he's cheezy, but if being cheezy would make me feel loved then so be it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25333116-116348033964251837?l=mirroring-me.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirroring-me.blogspot.com/feeds/116348033964251837/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25333116&amp;postID=116348033964251837' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25333116/posts/default/116348033964251837'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25333116/posts/default/116348033964251837'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirroring-me.blogspot.com/2006/11/sweetest-guy-i-had-ever-metyou.html' title='Sweetest guy I had ever met.YOU.'/><author><name>diana chan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09389162187263846869</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25333116.post-116083508437583758</id><published>2006-10-14T22:03:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2006-10-14T22:11:25.870+08:00</updated><title type='text'>On the act of crying</title><content type='html'>Crying is a medium to release one's emotions whether it is from sadness or happiness. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been years since I last cried.  I always have this uncanny power to separate my emotions from my physical body therefore controlling my outward facade.  I was able to hide my emotions.  But for some reason, I'm always crying nowadays.  The boundary of my conscience and my body is always permeated by this one person.  He was able to combine my other self with my material self. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was when he said that he would forget me if he couldn't take the hurt anymore.  It was when he said goodbye to me because he couldn't take the pain anymore.  It was also the time when he said he loved me and I was his whole world. It was when he was hurt because he could not make me smile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told this to a friend of mine and he agreed. "Ganyan naman talaga."  Now I understand what other people tell me about having this rollercoaster of emotions.  I would be smiling one second and cry my heart out the following second, and I wouldn't be able to hide it.  He would know, yet he would not take advantage of it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first time I cried for him was when we talked on the phone and he was playing his favorite senti songs.  It was his way of saying goodbye to me because he was going abroad to study.  He wasn't the only guy on the phone, yet I only cared what he said and not the other guy.  That was really my first cry from years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This action of me crying would be too melodramatic for other people.  But in my case, I think otherwise.  It 's not shallow anymore...because I'm crying because of him.  I miss you..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25333116-116083508437583758?l=mirroring-me.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirroring-me.blogspot.com/feeds/116083508437583758/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25333116&amp;postID=116083508437583758' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25333116/posts/default/116083508437583758'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25333116/posts/default/116083508437583758'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirroring-me.blogspot.com/2006/10/on-act-of-crying_116083508437583758.html' title='On the act of crying'/><author><name>diana chan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09389162187263846869</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25333116.post-115612285569075525</id><published>2006-08-21T09:12:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-08-21T09:14:15.703+08:00</updated><title type='text'>fact of life</title><content type='html'>You don't get everything you want. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's what reality always have, had, will implement on everybody's lives.  Perhaps, this is the reason why&lt;br /&gt;contentment is the word that's very hard to find specially these days where capitalism and globalization has&lt;br /&gt;further widened those "worldly attractions".  Selfishly speaking, I want every materialistic and non materialistic things.  I want to be loved. I want to get rich.  I want to be idolized.  But such things are nearly impossible to achieve likewise in short term.  You really don't get everything you want.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what do you do with your current resources/loved ones? You cherish them with all your heart. You don't complain why you only have them.  You love them.  Although I'm ashamed to say that I don't get to show my appreciation to my family, inside I do appreciate them.  My character was molded by both learning and observing their actions and experiences.  Without them, I might as well be a scared little fragmented soul.  Well not really,but I would be defenseless against those peer pressures, bad vices, etc.  I became a goody goody because of them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, there's those people you also have who share your experiences first-hand: your friends.  In other terms, they could be described as your partners-in-crime.  Of course, we don't do bad stuff; but we do have those 'kalokohan' days wherein we're so lucky that no one else knows about it.  They're your safety net when you have those problems.  They're just a call away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there comes my boyfriend who I called my 'baby' even though I'm not his mum. Yes, I'm not with him;but somehow he's also with me all the time when I sleep, when I go to school, or when I go out with friends.  Although I don't get everything I want becauseof it's being a long-distance relationship, somehow it's been enough for me to know that I'm also being remembered and loved the same way that I'm with him.  Distance and time may block our communication sometimes, but these factors wouldn't hinder me from him that long.  There's always a way around it.  I know so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You don't get everything you want, but you can atleast do something to be cherish what you have.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25333116-115612285569075525?l=mirroring-me.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirroring-me.blogspot.com/feeds/115612285569075525/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25333116&amp;postID=115612285569075525' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25333116/posts/default/115612285569075525'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25333116/posts/default/115612285569075525'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirroring-me.blogspot.com/2006/08/fact-of-life.html' title='fact of life'/><author><name>diana chan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09389162187263846869</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25333116.post-115598294893380251</id><published>2006-08-19T18:18:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-08-19T18:22:28.950+08:00</updated><title type='text'>the effect of going home alone</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;There are some instances or moments in your day when you just feel so alone in the world that everything seems have no meaning to you.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;You look at your shadow walking with your body but you don’t ask the usual curious questions like “why do we have shadows?” and the like.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;No, you just look at it and accept it as a fact of life.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Now, where was all the zest I once had with these common things? I have no idea.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I guess, I’m also tired of asking questions that are left unanswered. The purpose of life and why we crave to succeed in this life are few of those unanswerable questions that possibly every human in the world asks himself or herself.&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;When you are alone. Then what??&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;One of the ideologies of people is that loners are losers and are part of the lonesome club if there was one.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;But isn’t being alone a great experience? For me, sometimes, it is.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;But what I don’t like about it is that one would suddenly come to realizations that are dumbfounding.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Why do we live,as in, go through life in the first place if all of it stops at our death?&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The impacts we once had with other people fray itself only to memories.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;So what? Do we live to be remembered by the people we leave?&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Through time the people who had memories of us would also vanish. So what’s the use?&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;In an unselfish perspective, we live for other people who depend on us: our loved ones.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;But in a selfish outlook, what?? Why do we have to accomplish all these things to profit our livelihood.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;This so-called profitable livelihood would only be passed to the next generation.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;You don’t get anything.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Are we such living things to do all these accomplishments to survive the various levels of life: childhood, puberty, adulthood, middle age, old age?&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Today, I just walked and walked without much thought on where to go and how to go home.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I just walked.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Everything has always the same.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;There’s some casual bastos people.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;There’s the usual heat, the usual smoke, the usual filth. There’s the usual buildings, the billboards, the roads.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Am I just an empty soul walking the usual paths?&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I,personally, have no idea.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25333116-115598294893380251?l=mirroring-me.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirroring-me.blogspot.com/feeds/115598294893380251/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25333116&amp;postID=115598294893380251' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25333116/posts/default/115598294893380251'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25333116/posts/default/115598294893380251'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirroring-me.blogspot.com/2006/08/effect-of-going-home-alone.html' title='the effect of going home alone'/><author><name>diana chan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09389162187263846869</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25333116.post-115367302908202250</id><published>2006-07-24T00:34:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-07-24T00:43:49.103+08:00</updated><title type='text'>my theme song right now</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="background: white none repeat scroll 0%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial; font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I was alone thinking I was just fine&lt;br /&gt; I wasn’t looking for anyone to be mine&lt;br /&gt; I thought love was just a fabrication&lt;br /&gt; A train that wouldn’t stop at my station&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p style="background: white none repeat scroll 0%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial; font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Home alone, that was my consignment&lt;br /&gt; Solitary confinement&lt;br /&gt; So when we met I was gettin around you&lt;br /&gt; I didn’t know I was looking for love until I found you…&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p style="background: white none repeat scroll 0%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial; font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I didn’t know I was looking for love until I found you, honey&lt;br /&gt; I didn’t know I was looking for love until I found you, baby, oh no&lt;br /&gt; I didn’t know I was looking for love&lt;br /&gt; I didn’t know I was looking for love&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p style="background: white none repeat scroll 0%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial; font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Coz there you stood and I would&lt;br /&gt; Oh I wonder could I say how I felt and not be misunderstood&lt;br /&gt; A thousand stars came into my system&lt;br /&gt; I never knew how much I had missed them&lt;br /&gt; Slap on the map of my heart you landed&lt;br /&gt; I was coy but you made me candid&lt;br /&gt; And now the planets circle around you&lt;br /&gt; I didn’t know I was looking for love until I found you…&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p style="background: white none repeat scroll 0%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial; font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I didn’t know I was looking for love until I found you, baby&lt;br /&gt; I didn’t know I was looking for love until I found you, baby&lt;br /&gt; I didn’t know I was looking for love&lt;br /&gt; I didn’t know I was looking for love&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p style="background: white none repeat scroll 0%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial; font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;So we build from here with love as the foundation&lt;br /&gt; In a world of tears won consolation&lt;br /&gt; And now you’re here there’s a full brass band&lt;br /&gt; Playin’ in me like a wonderland&lt;br /&gt; And if you left I would be two-foot small&lt;br /&gt; And every tear would be a waterfall&lt;br /&gt; Soundless, boundless I surround you&lt;br /&gt; I didn’t know I was looking for love until I found you&lt;br /&gt; I just didn’t know&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p style="background: white none repeat scroll 0%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial; font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Didn’t know I was looking for love until I found you..&lt;br /&gt; Love…love…&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p style="background: white none repeat scroll 0%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial; font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I just didn’t know…&lt;br /&gt; love…love…&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p style="background: white none repeat scroll 0%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial; font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Until I found you&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p style="background: white none repeat scroll 0%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial; font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Didn’t know I was looking for love…&lt;br /&gt; Love…love..&lt;br /&gt; Until I found you… &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25333116-115367302908202250?l=mirroring-me.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirroring-me.blogspot.com/feeds/115367302908202250/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25333116&amp;postID=115367302908202250' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25333116/posts/default/115367302908202250'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25333116/posts/default/115367302908202250'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirroring-me.blogspot.com/2006/07/my-theme-song-right-now.html' title='my theme song right now'/><author><name>diana chan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09389162187263846869</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25333116.post-115261065158861197</id><published>2006-07-11T17:34:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-07-11T17:37:31.600+08:00</updated><title type='text'>my first love</title><content type='html'>Recently, I have fallen in love with a friend of mine.  It may be your typical bestfriend-into-boyfriend love story, but I still believe that ours is different.  I don’t actually know why I’m saying this, but I feel like I’m the only person feeling this blessed in the world.  I know it may sound cheesy, nonetheless, I really feel that way.  I feel blessed because God gave me him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think what made me like him in the first place was his way of doing certain things that were natural to him. There was no tactics of wooing.  No techniques.  He was just plain honest.  It was sweet.  The final touch was his love for me.  Now that was even sweeter.  He was simple.  So I guess that’s what made me fall for him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love you babe =P  Ayan, pinagmamalaki kita ulit&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25333116-115261065158861197?l=mirroring-me.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirroring-me.blogspot.com/feeds/115261065158861197/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25333116&amp;postID=115261065158861197' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25333116/posts/default/115261065158861197'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25333116/posts/default/115261065158861197'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirroring-me.blogspot.com/2006/07/my-first-love.html' title='my first love'/><author><name>diana chan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09389162187263846869</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25333116.post-115015229811583644</id><published>2006-06-13T06:43:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-06-13T06:44:58.146+08:00</updated><title type='text'>being true to myself and to you</title><content type='html'>Right now, as I am writing this entry, I am hurting because I just lost a special person in my life.  I do hope though that as he is deleting my text messages, he won’t do the same with me.  I hope that he wouldn’t erase me.  I know I have caused so much hurt to his heart nonetheless I don’t want to lose him completely.  It’s a slap on the face: To hurt someone you care so much by your mere presence.  It’s a helpless situation where you don’t know what will happen.  Do you save yourself or risk it?  All the things that are happening are so surreal and time after time I wish everthing was just a dream.  There was no surprise.  There was no him.  Nothing.  But no, everything is really happening and I feel so terrible because I have caused sad memories and sad moments.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I always say that I live by the moment, the instances in my life where I could definitely say that I was alive. I cherish it even though the fact of how bad things turned out looms like a fog.  It is my belief that living through the pain makes me human. I know that I am meant to feel pain.  I know that I was truthful with myself and with him.  It would be unfair to both parties if I did otherwise.  I know that somehow I had the power of making everything seem perfect but I did not do it because I know that the perfect world that I would create would be, in all its essence, a big lie.  I would not be myself therefore making myself the lie itself. I don’t want to pretend.  Again, I could say that throughout the entire situation, I was truthful.  I did not lie. No regrets. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, if that person is reading this, I’m telling you this: I did not put my mind over my heart.  I put some thought on this and I had concluded that to love IS to love.  Time or place or person isn’t a factor that one should dwell upon when love comes along your way.  Long distance relationships can be tried.  It just so happened that my heart was slow to love or even like.  It was all me, and my heart hasn’t given me the go signal yet.  I think I was getting fond of you, but I was not yet in love or like for that matter at this time.  Yes, it is frustrating, but you just can’t force emotions right?  Maybe if you had all the time in the world, I think maybe the perfect world might became a reality.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25333116-115015229811583644?l=mirroring-me.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirroring-me.blogspot.com/feeds/115015229811583644/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25333116&amp;postID=115015229811583644' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25333116/posts/default/115015229811583644'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25333116/posts/default/115015229811583644'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirroring-me.blogspot.com/2006/06/being-true-to-myself-and-to-you.html' title='being true to myself and to you'/><author><name>diana chan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09389162187263846869</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25333116.post-114968271891456476</id><published>2006-06-07T20:15:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-06-07T20:30:13.820+08:00</updated><title type='text'>for you pinsan, with love from me</title><content type='html'>Yes pinsan, I’m writing this for you. Although today our kickboxing session did not pushed through and although we were bored at your house, I could say that my time there was great. I don’t know actually what part of the afternoon it happened, but I was actually rejuvinated in a sense and for the first time in many months, I didn’t notice the loneliness of commuting today. Parang I was VERY content with what had transpired this day kahit na yung expectations for the day did not happen. All your kwentos about the people at UST in a bizzare way brought about it a message to me: You can enjoy school while being a nerd. You can have the right kind of berks and going out with them while still studying profusely. I know this might sound very malabo and all but really it made me content for some reason. In light of our reminisces of Mr. See. I’ll try to write a simple poem for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Tula Para sa Aking Pinsang Taga-Retiro&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kahit di ka nagrereply&lt;br /&gt;Kahit lagi ka nagzozone out sa mga bagay-bagay&lt;br /&gt;Nais kong iparating sa’yo na happy ako&lt;br /&gt;Makidaldal, makiexercise, at makilabas&lt;br /&gt;Kasama ka: dati, ngayon at kailanman&lt;br /&gt;Dahil ewan ko ba&lt;br /&gt;Alam ko yatang di mo ako pababayaan&lt;br /&gt;O naks diba?&lt;br /&gt;Kahit hindi ito tunay na tula&lt;br /&gt;Kahit na medyo mababaw ang pagkarhyme&lt;br /&gt;Ang dulot nitong ngiti sa iyong mga labi&lt;br /&gt;Ang magiging rason para maging tunay na literatura&lt;br /&gt;Itong mumunting “Tula Para sa Aking Pinsang Taga-Retiro”&lt;br /&gt;Sana lamang walang ibang tao dyan ang magkuro-kuro&lt;br /&gt;Sa aking gramatikang palpak&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;I’ll be expecting your comment pinsan =) hihihihi….I didn’t share this kanina because I was semi-shy. Forgive me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25333116-114968271891456476?l=mirroring-me.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirroring-me.blogspot.com/feeds/114968271891456476/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25333116&amp;postID=114968271891456476' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25333116/posts/default/114968271891456476'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25333116/posts/default/114968271891456476'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirroring-me.blogspot.com/2006/06/for-you-pinsan-with-love-from-me.html' title='for you pinsan, with love from me'/><author><name>diana chan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09389162187263846869</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25333116.post-114930752646618255</id><published>2006-06-03T12:05:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-06-03T12:06:51.956+08:00</updated><title type='text'>flashbulb memory</title><content type='html'>There’s something about music that brings you back in time to those moments of utter bliss, sadness, and contentment. If you don’t know what I mean then try listening to music without doing anything. Before you know it, you would be spacing out to those moments in your past where there were great emotions involved: getting your first heartbreak, seeing your crush, watching your favorite television show, the first anime you watched, those childhood games you played with you friends, the silly bickering in high school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now, I’m listening to the “Full House” OST; and I’m reminded of those silly episodes in the koreanovela. Although I don’t understand even one word of the lyrics, the melody of it invokes some feelings of warmth that only those particular songs can. With those memories about the series, simultaneously, I’m also reminded of those feelings of contentment that I had during those times where “Full House” was most popular. My day was complete just by watching this 30 minute series. I was really content on what I had back then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess, college has that affect on life. It makes things more complicated because you get more involved with your feelings of peer pressure and adaptability with the new environment. Or was my high school so protective of us? I can’t pinpoint when all of these negative feelings came, but this feeling is making my life more complicated than it is already.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Music in itself is my own version of escapism through the hardships of life. It has the power to revert us back to those times where you are most comfortable with. Maybe it is the reason why I’m so into music nowadays. While I’m reminscing about my past life, I’m also recording these sad moments in those heart warming melodies/notes/lyrics for future use. I must admit that not all the music will make me smile, but I’m still glad that somehow, my cherished moments were “stored” and that by listening to songs I’m able to go back in time and actually feel “it” happening again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25333116-114930752646618255?l=mirroring-me.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirroring-me.blogspot.com/feeds/114930752646618255/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25333116&amp;postID=114930752646618255' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25333116/posts/default/114930752646618255'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25333116/posts/default/114930752646618255'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirroring-me.blogspot.com/2006/06/flashbulb-memory.html' title='flashbulb memory'/><author><name>diana chan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09389162187263846869</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25333116.post-114915110128158201</id><published>2006-06-01T16:36:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-06-01T16:38:21.296+08:00</updated><title type='text'>jerk or no jerk?</title><content type='html'>How would you define a jerk? Is it somebody who doesn’t have gratitude to anybody? Is it somebody who breaks all the rules of humanity that was set upon us by our ancestors? Or is it somebody who acts selfishly and hurts those people who loved him dearly? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’ve known a person who gets addicted to some game to the extent that he wouldn’t mind if his girlfriend gets upset and breaks up with him.  I’ve also known a person who breaks up with his girlfriend just because his friends told him that his current girlfriend is ugly. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are these things the works of a jerk? Or are these things the product of childishness that comes once in a while in a human’s behavior? Do you start branding someone as a jerk because of his actions at a certain circumstance or when he’s bad to only some people but not all?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suppose that you know someone who has an excellent way of thinking philisophically and does things according to his beliefs that according to him is the most appropriate way to live your life.  You’re intrigue by his reasons and find it proper, yet you see and hear these people who have known him in the past and some in the present have this indefinable anger/resentment towards him.  How do you find out if the person you know is not what other people tell you to be? Do you judge according to the treatment he gives you in the present and ignore his past because you think your friend has already shown ill feelings towards his past self or vice versa?  Would you just leave a friend when he “accidentally” slips back to his old self?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For me, the best thing to do is to confront this friend and tell him that what he’s doing is childish/selfish.  But life is not simple. Life has its own complications.  There are many factors that you have to fix first kinda like tackling the mini-bosses then going for the real big boss.  When one thinks logically, the situation would be too complicated to even solve.  But the heart would say the opposite.  The situation is a way to further fortify the friendship.  Yes, it is somewhat pathetic; but I think it’s worth the try.  Better try than nothing eh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;“Deep friendship doesn’t depend on how many times friends spend time together or how happy they are.  It’s the time when you never see them yet keep on believing that the friendship will stay forever.” – text quote from JL&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25333116-114915110128158201?l=mirroring-me.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirroring-me.blogspot.com/feeds/114915110128158201/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25333116&amp;postID=114915110128158201' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25333116/posts/default/114915110128158201'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25333116/posts/default/114915110128158201'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirroring-me.blogspot.com/2006/06/jerk-or-no-jerk.html' title='jerk or no jerk?'/><author><name>diana chan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09389162187263846869</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25333116.post-114847774543175137</id><published>2006-05-24T21:34:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-05-24T21:35:45.440+08:00</updated><title type='text'>unleash yourself??</title><content type='html'>If you had the skill and potential on something let’s say on one kind of sport.  What would you do? The common answer would maybe be go enroll on some classes or for the bookish ones get a copy of ‘An Idiot’s Guide To ---“&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But what if you just don’t have the money to go about these things?  Would you just sit down and dream or would you stand up and find a way to explore your skills? Are we,as students, helpless altogether to the whim of our parents’ allowance and to their assistance?  Do we ourselves limit our own potentials by being pessimistic if a certain thing would work out? These are the questions circling through my mind.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25333116-114847774543175137?l=mirroring-me.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirroring-me.blogspot.com/feeds/114847774543175137/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25333116&amp;postID=114847774543175137' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25333116/posts/default/114847774543175137'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25333116/posts/default/114847774543175137'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirroring-me.blogspot.com/2006/05/unleash-yourself.html' title='unleash yourself??'/><author><name>diana chan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09389162187263846869</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25333116.post-114804737484528046</id><published>2006-05-19T22:01:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-05-19T22:02:54.860+08:00</updated><title type='text'>take a shot for bliss</title><content type='html'>Last night, MMK featured a typical rich-girl-poor-boy love story played by Anne Curtis and Zanjoe.  Although Zanjoe sucked, Anne Curtis nailed her character brilliantly which led to the episode’s success.  I cried when Anne Curtis cried. Yep, I was totally carried away by the drama. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Watching this though led me to think of the reality: love stories like this seldom work out in the end.  These kind of love story doesn’t always end up “happily ever after”.  Eventually the couple would split because of their differences in social status.  Its either parents would intervene or one of the couple would give up on the relationship because of the stress put upon by their differences.  Yes, a relationship of two opposite people would work; but it’s also very tiring, so why not just find a more suitable match for you and leave all those “hardships” behind?  The relationship is temporary anyway, so why do you have to endure the stress? All in all, it’s absolutely impractical to stay in this kind of relationship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, my question is this: Is it worth it to try in this kind of relationship where the other one is just super rich while the other one is just plain poor?  I wouldn’t know what to do if I was in that situation.  Knowing myself, I would probably go coward and close myself of any romantic feelings to prevent life’s complications.  But still, I do hope that I would be courageous enough to risk a heartbreak for my feelings because even if we delude oursleves, we eventually have to face that life is short.  Getting hurt is part of life’s beauty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have to remember that in those bittersweet moments with your love.  He/She was able to give you that unique joy that only a loved one could give.  If ever the relationship ends up to nothing, don’t sigh because of the supposed wasted time and effort you put upon the relationship because in reality, nothing was wasted.  In that span of time, you were able to grow into a stronger and more beautiful person that you were before.  That person has become a part of you and IT is because of him/her that you were able to realize the uniqueness of various aspects in life.  Music isn’t just for relaxation.  It is also for expressing the pent up emotions inside of you.  Rain isn’t just a nuisance for commuting.  It is a sign of the playful child inside of you who has no nuance of getting sick in the rain.  Everything takes up a different perspective.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Indeed, we have to live in the moment. Carpe Diem.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25333116-114804737484528046?l=mirroring-me.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirroring-me.blogspot.com/feeds/114804737484528046/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25333116&amp;postID=114804737484528046' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25333116/posts/default/114804737484528046'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25333116/posts/default/114804737484528046'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirroring-me.blogspot.com/2006/05/take-shot-for-bliss.html' title='take a shot for bliss'/><author><name>diana chan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09389162187263846869</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25333116.post-114708092760108177</id><published>2006-05-08T17:28:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-05-08T17:35:27.610+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Reality Check</title><content type='html'>Last night, my ----- visited.  It was bittersweet.  Again, I was reminded of MY world, and I cried.  I slept with my pillow wet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;quote from that person: "Those born-again Christians are antichrist"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saaadd....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25333116-114708092760108177?l=mirroring-me.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirroring-me.blogspot.com/feeds/114708092760108177/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25333116&amp;postID=114708092760108177' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25333116/posts/default/114708092760108177'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25333116/posts/default/114708092760108177'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirroring-me.blogspot.com/2006/05/reality-check.html' title='Reality Check'/><author><name>diana chan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09389162187263846869</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25333116.post-114675107851032269</id><published>2006-05-04T21:57:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-05-06T16:29:42.620+08:00</updated><title type='text'>unnerving thoughts</title><content type='html'>Today, I had just confirmed that our ‘katulong’ is actually pregnant with the baby of our ‘kang-lang’. I can say that I’m a bit surprised because it never went in my mind that the two had a relationship. Our maid seldom went out at her day offs. Oftentimes, she just hangs around the house doing her usual work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everytime a thing like this happens, I get disappointed. At the same time, I question myself: If I were her, would have I done the same thing? Yes, I’ve experienced my ‘kahibangan’ phases whenever a suave guy comes along; and I could just imagine how logic seems fade away when your with your ‘labidab’. You don't have any idea of those silly things you do.   Logic is a blur.  You'd do anything for your love even if the thing is out of your league.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In our psychology class today, my classmate said that humans are set apart from animals because of the ethics that rule our way of thinking and actions. So what if you’ve been lonely and lovesick for quite some years, and a guy comes along and sweeps you off your feet. I would predict that the heart would rule the mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That’s what’s hard about falling in love or infatuation, your ethics as a person fades away or should I dare say disappears completely. One would be lucky if you’re surrounded by true friends to supervise your on-going behaviorisms while you’re still in the ‘kahibangan’ stage.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25333116-114675107851032269?l=mirroring-me.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirroring-me.blogspot.com/feeds/114675107851032269/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25333116&amp;postID=114675107851032269' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25333116/posts/default/114675107851032269'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25333116/posts/default/114675107851032269'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirroring-me.blogspot.com/2006/05/unnerving-thoughts.html' title='unnerving thoughts'/><author><name>diana chan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09389162187263846869</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25333116.post-114627143311979472</id><published>2006-04-29T08:42:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-04-29T08:43:53.130+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bigatin ang Pagkakaibigan</title><content type='html'>Friendship or should I say companionship is one of those things that you must cherish in the span of your short life.  It is something serious that has its corresponding struggles and joy. You don’t just throw it away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is why I don’t get close with somebody that I know would not have an impact in my life.  I usually ignore them and show only my shallow side, the one who always laughs and jokes around with everybody because I know that whatever friendship we would have wouldn’t last long.  Sometimes, some ‘makulit’ people would permeate my standards; but usually I choose my friends wisely. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now, I’m getting ‘nanghihinayang’ to a friendship that has impacted my life.  I can say that I did give effort for it not to just fade away. I don’t know if I should just give up and let it bury itself only in my memories.  I want to relive it, but the other party is not cooperating. *sigh*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I do hope that this blossoming friendship I’m having now would live until my old age.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25333116-114627143311979472?l=mirroring-me.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirroring-me.blogspot.com/feeds/114627143311979472/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25333116&amp;postID=114627143311979472' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25333116/posts/default/114627143311979472'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25333116/posts/default/114627143311979472'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirroring-me.blogspot.com/2006/04/bigatin-ang-pagkakaibigan.html' title='Bigatin ang Pagkakaibigan'/><author><name>diana chan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09389162187263846869</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25333116.post-114606103854045583</id><published>2006-04-26T21:24:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-04-26T22:17:20.406+08:00</updated><title type='text'>me likee PBB =P</title><content type='html'>During my second sem, as usual, we were asked to write a research paper for our english class. Although my memories about that darn paper was hell, I have come to realize it's productivity in a sense of my brain gaining knowledge about certain things that I never knew impacted my life so much.  It's about having 'identification' with the people on tv.  At first, I thought that it was just some crap psychologists made up to scare people. I mean, it's unlikely for people to be 'hypnotized' by a show and mentally float and become the character dba? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well..I was wrong, sort of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I happened to watch PBB and I've got to admit. I was hypnotized @_@ hahaha.  All I can say is that I cried when they cried.  Almost all of them had their own family and financial problems.  With my background, I was able to relate and somehow it made me realize that I'm not alone in the world with this burden.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Natuwa ako sa show. Natuwa din ako sa peeps dun. There was this guy who said something about making other people laugh being his source of joy in his life.  I had my own version of course, but ewan ko ba..somehow I was revived kasi may kapareha pala ako mag-isip?=p  I know what he meant by those words.  For me, the smiles of people give me encouragement to go on with my struggle in life.  Their smiles also comfort me in a way because indirectly I have caused them to smile.  Hindi lang ako walang kwenta.  I'm not just a helpless person who is unable to give happiness to other people.  So if ever I fail to trigger a smile from someone, I feel so sad because..un nga, hindi ko magawa ang isang napakasimpleng bagay lang panu ko magagawan ng solusyon yung mga problema diba?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Basta, I'm just glad that I'm not alone with these problems.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25333116-114606103854045583?l=mirroring-me.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirroring-me.blogspot.com/feeds/114606103854045583/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25333116&amp;postID=114606103854045583' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25333116/posts/default/114606103854045583'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25333116/posts/default/114606103854045583'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirroring-me.blogspot.com/2006/04/me-likee-pbb-p.html' title='me likee PBB =P'/><author><name>diana chan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09389162187263846869</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25333116.post-114597082788275285</id><published>2006-04-25T21:08:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-04-25T21:20:50.013+08:00</updated><title type='text'>30 minute poem</title><content type='html'>Just something I wrote yesterday when I was feeling sad. This is actually what I've been feeling recently. I've tried countless times to write a blog about my feelings, but somehow IT materialized into a poem. Here it goes..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I am a dead soul walking through the noise of life&lt;br /&gt;Events unfold and I become numb&lt;br /&gt;To hurt, joy… emotions that once sufficed&lt;br /&gt;Now my eyes only see the tomb&lt;br /&gt;A lake that mirrors the dark empty orb&lt;br /&gt;Hovering..fading to give way to the sun&lt;br /&gt;Its brightness frightening&lt;br /&gt;Yet I know it has begun&lt;br /&gt;Another day of loneliness&lt;br /&gt;Those tiresome days of fake smiles and laughter&lt;br /&gt;I wake up for nothing else&lt;br /&gt;But continuous bitterness, a bicker&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Once I had my escape&lt;br /&gt;My savior shading the truth of everything&lt;br /&gt;Recently he left with a flap of his cape&lt;br /&gt;No turning back, nothing…&lt;br /&gt;I am left without a dreamer’s dream&lt;br /&gt;A cake without the sweetness of icing &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;O drown me in the lake until my voice fades away..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25333116-114597082788275285?l=mirroring-me.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirroring-me.blogspot.com/feeds/114597082788275285/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25333116&amp;postID=114597082788275285' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25333116/posts/default/114597082788275285'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25333116/posts/default/114597082788275285'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirroring-me.blogspot.com/2006/04/30-minute-poem_25.html' title='30 minute poem'/><author><name>diana chan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09389162187263846869</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25333116.post-114499105410352596</id><published>2006-04-14T13:02:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-04-14T13:04:14.113+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Five ways to holiness</title><content type='html'>I’m not trying to annoy anyone belonging to some religion by writing this but I’m really getting pissed at those people who take the Bible too literaly.  Yes, I do agree that YOU have to take it literally sometimes, but the people I know are taking it to heart so much that what they profess to be “holy” is becoming ridiculous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here’s an example session at our house when my sister’s “sister in the church” came up today to do their weekly bible study. Their topic was: How to achieve holiness.  Anyways, their study concentrated on the physical aspects that one should have to be considered as holy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(1) Women shouldn’t wear pants because it is a man’s clothing.&lt;br /&gt;            Now how is she sure that pants ARE men’s clothing? In the old times, the people wore robes right? From what I know, prostitutes wore pants in the Old Testament.  I’m not sure about this though.  Nevertheless, it still opposes whatever bullcrap she said.  When my little brother asked why they were so strict about this, she just said “E ayaw mo naman maging bakla diba? Ang lalaki na sumosuot ng palda ay bakla samantalang ang babaeng sumusuot ng pantalon ay tomboy” Hearing this, I was like WHAAT?? Ang layo ah..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(2) Women shouldn’t wear jewelry&lt;br /&gt;            Her logic of this statement is very very weird. You shouldn’t wear jewelry because it says in the Bible that women should focus on being virtuous and not on beautification.  Yes, she does have a point on this; but she added something that was totally out of range. She said, “Makikita naman na ayaw ng Diyos ang magsuot ng kababaihan ng mga jewelry dahil mananakawan lang ang mga taong may suot ng mga hikaw, kuwintas, pulseras…” Hay naku, I mean so ganun pala kaya naging bawal magjewelry ang mga babae kasi mananakawan?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(3) Women should not wear make-up because it covers your natural beauty&lt;br /&gt;            She said here that women who wear make-up are “makasalanan” because by wearing make-up, women are actually rejecting their natural beauty which was given by God.  It is a sin to do this. Kahit anong line daw sa face, it is bad.  Then my brother said, “Panu na yan kung patay na? Nilalagyan ng make-up yun dba? Sino na ang may kasalanan?” Her answer was, “ Edi yung taong naglagay ng make-up” So I was thinking, make-up artists and plastic surgeons should go to hell. Hahahahaa =P Ok, not me but I’m thinking that she seriously hates those beauticians in salons.  The next part would show how against she is with them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(4) Women should have long hair&lt;br /&gt;            This statement, I think, is already considered as an old saying, however, grabe nanaman ang sinabi niya “Hindi dapat pinuputulan ang buhok dahil ang ibig sabihin ng ‘long’ in the first place ay ‘uncut’” Well, I don’t know much about the origins of the word ‘long’; but she’s taking the word much too literally.  She said that even if the hair grows 10 ft or so it’s still ok basta it’s uncut daw.  Yuck. I could just imagine her hair brushing against her butt while she’s giving birth to her brown babies in the cr. Ayayayaay…And she also said about the hair having life but not growing because my sister was wondering why the sister’s hair stopped growing.  Such a complex rthing to say. I don’t know why di nagets ng sister ko yun but diba? Kapag you don’t cut your hair for a very long time mamamatay siya diba? And dahil patay paano na siya hahaba e patay na nga. Kaya nga when you want to grow your hair you should have it trimmed monthly.&lt;br /&gt;           &lt;br /&gt;(5) Physical baptism can erase all your sins&lt;br /&gt;            Now this is a bit controversial among various religious sects, but again her logic is comical. “Sasabihin mong lawasa ang tubig na ginamit sa iyong baptismo diba ngunit hindi mo ba napapansin na ang lawasa na iyan ay galing sa Diyos? Galing ang tubig na yan sa natural na kalikasan.  Iyan ang ibinigay ng Diyos sa ating mga makasalanan para malinis ang ating mga kasalanan at para maging banal tayo” And then my sister said, “ E panu na yan?  Araw-araw tayo gumagawa ng kasalanan? Ano yun? Paulit-ulit tayo magpabaptise?” “Oo”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hahahahaa, funny dba? All throughout this so-called bible study, I was like grabe ano ba ito? My sister was wide-eyed and listening to the “sister in the church” once in a while saying “Panu na yan?” “Patay! Kakabili ko lang ng ganito ganyan. Bawal pala?” Tsk. Tsk.  Ayaw makinig sa akin tapos naniniwala naman sa ganyan.  It just goes to show how fast people are fooled by the religious leaders.  Hanep.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25333116-114499105410352596?l=mirroring-me.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirroring-me.blogspot.com/feeds/114499105410352596/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25333116&amp;postID=114499105410352596' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25333116/posts/default/114499105410352596'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25333116/posts/default/114499105410352596'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirroring-me.blogspot.com/2006/04/five-ways-to-holiness.html' title='Five ways to holiness'/><author><name>diana chan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09389162187263846869</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25333116.post-114494049085593350</id><published>2006-04-13T22:55:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-04-13T23:12:11.766+08:00</updated><title type='text'>kisapmata</title><content type='html'>i found this song just now and i was like woah..i can sooo relate to this song. actually, i know this song already, but i haven't really seen the lyrics. Basta, this song was like talking to me. grabe talaga...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Nitong umaga lang, pagka lambing-lambing&lt;br /&gt;Ng iyong mga matang hayup kung tumingin&lt;br /&gt;Nitong umaga lang, pagka galing-galing&lt;br /&gt;Ng iyong sumpang walang aawat sa atin&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O kay bilis naming maglaho ng&lt;br /&gt;Pag-ibig mo sinta, daig mo pa ang isang kisapmata&lt;br /&gt;Kanina’y nariyan lang o ba’t bigla namang nawala&lt;br /&gt;Daig mo pa ang isang kisapmata.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kani-kanina lang pagka ganda-ganda&lt;br /&gt;Ng pagkasabi mong sana’y tayo na nga&lt;br /&gt;Kani-kanina lang, pagka saya-saya ng buhay kong&lt;br /&gt;Bigla na lamang nagiba&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25333116-114494049085593350?l=mirroring-me.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirroring-me.blogspot.com/feeds/114494049085593350/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25333116&amp;postID=114494049085593350' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25333116/posts/default/114494049085593350'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25333116/posts/default/114494049085593350'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirroring-me.blogspot.com/2006/04/kisapmata.html' title='kisapmata'/><author><name>diana chan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09389162187263846869</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25333116.post-114490037381533478</id><published>2006-04-13T11:45:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-04-13T11:52:53.830+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I've been TRICKED!</title><content type='html'>i just realized that grey was actually byron!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the hell??!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;wala talaga magawa sa buhay itong mokong na ito!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, there's a real UNKNOWN person who wants to be my textmate again. i saved his number as 'loko loko' because i think he/she is a lunatic. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what the hell is happening to the world these days??? textmates?? diba jologs na yun??&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25333116-114490037381533478?l=mirroring-me.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirroring-me.blogspot.com/feeds/114490037381533478/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25333116&amp;postID=114490037381533478' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25333116/posts/default/114490037381533478'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25333116/posts/default/114490037381533478'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirroring-me.blogspot.com/2006/04/ive-been-tricked.html' title='I&apos;ve been TRICKED!'/><author><name>diana chan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09389162187263846869</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25333116.post-114437697868054498</id><published>2006-04-07T10:00:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-04-07T10:45:43.296+08:00</updated><title type='text'>weird text message</title><content type='html'>Just the other day, I received a text message coming from an unknown person. He asked if I wanted to be his text mate. Since I was bored to death, I agreed to be his textbud. This was how the conversation went..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grey: Hi Dianna!(grrr..I hate it when people give me the wrong spelling) do you want to be my textm8?&lt;br /&gt;Me: cnu 2?&lt;br /&gt;Grey: i'm Grey frm MaSci. I hope that you don't mind me toking 2 u?&lt;br /&gt;Me: oki. wla nmn gngawa e. hw did u gt my n0. b?&lt;br /&gt;Grey: i gt ur n0. from my friend's friend's friend. I was asking my frend in admu if he knew any reasonable gurl in admu nd it led 2 u&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By this time, i was freaked out. Am I supposed to be flattered? the hell?! i have to call gi to calm myself. do guys really do that?&lt;br /&gt;"Pare, I need a reasonable girl. Do you know one?"&lt;br /&gt;"Wait lang pare, I think may friend akong may kakilala na ganun..O eto this is her number..she's..."&lt;br /&gt;Is this normal???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: frm wat schl r u?&lt;br /&gt;Grey: i stdy at UP BAA&lt;br /&gt;Me: i mean, frm wat HS?&lt;br /&gt;Grey: Manila Science..u?&lt;br /&gt;Me: grace christian&lt;br /&gt;Grey: i heard dat ur frm the star sec. i'm sure dt ur gud in math (I'm now thinking who from my acquaintances gave him my number. Imposible kung from invictus. They know I'm not good in math=p)&lt;br /&gt;Me: no,mediocre lng. bt i try to be gud at it.&lt;br /&gt;Grey: i dnt think so. um, im going to fetch my mom at rockwell. it ws nice toking 2 u.&lt;br /&gt;Me: ah oki, bye&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that's how the conversation ended. I don't know. Feel ko niloloko lang ako. Anyways, text lang naman dba? no harm will come to me. He's at UP naman e. And it's been two days since he texted me. So no worries..haha=p&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25333116-114437697868054498?l=mirroring-me.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirroring-me.blogspot.com/feeds/114437697868054498/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25333116&amp;postID=114437697868054498' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25333116/posts/default/114437697868054498'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25333116/posts/default/114437697868054498'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirroring-me.blogspot.com/2006/04/weird-text-message.html' title='weird text message'/><author><name>diana chan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09389162187263846869</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25333116.post-114429004547872121</id><published>2006-04-06T09:56:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-04-07T10:37:59.530+08:00</updated><title type='text'>my friends (moi familia)</title><content type='html'>You could say that I'm a demanding friend. I crave for attention. I want that friend to say that I'm special to them blah blah blah. Yes, I do get 'konsensya' for being like this. I try to control myself, but sometimes I still become selfish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My excuse: They are my only loved ones&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I do have my family but they are like strangers to me. My parents are always absent. During dinner where we could have bonded with each other, the scraping of utensils and munching would only be heard because my parents would get angry if someone talks. They say it's a waste of time. In the rare instances where there would be talking going on the table, it would be because they are scolding us. What a great way to utilize dinner time diba?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now with my siblings, I would also call them strangers. I seldom talk to them. Believe it or not, I get shy when I talk to my sister and brother. I can't talk with my little brother and sister naman because they don't understand what I'm talking about. They would just ask me what are the meaning of the words I'm using (which I have no idea why. I have a low level of vocabulary) like concern, luxurious, blah blah blah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As you can see, friends are the only people I could have a connection too. I get hurt when they don't spend their time with me, but I have to understand that they have their families and 'kasintahan' to think about. Well ,I guess, not everyone is blessed with all the good things in life.&lt;br /&gt;Oh well..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25333116-114429004547872121?l=mirroring-me.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirroring-me.blogspot.com/feeds/114429004547872121/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25333116&amp;postID=114429004547872121' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25333116/posts/default/114429004547872121'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25333116/posts/default/114429004547872121'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirroring-me.blogspot.com/2006/04/my-friends-moi-familia.html' title='my friends (moi familia)'/><author><name>diana chan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09389162187263846869</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25333116.post-114411305548618941</id><published>2006-04-04T09:08:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-04-05T09:57:50.956+08:00</updated><title type='text'>first thoughts after waking up</title><content type='html'>Today, i woke up at 8:15 am. It was always the same routine. I would look up at my cellphone, see if somebody remembered me, and be sad because there was none.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know it's getting frustrating how I always get up early in the morning DURING vacation. I always wake up in the range of 7-9 am. I'm already contemplating if I have a sleeping disorder or something. If insomiacs can't sleep. What do you call me? I can sleep anytime during the night,but my waking time would still be the same. I could sleep at 3 am but still wake up at 7am without effort.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because of this, I'm awake for a great deal of time like 16 hours??!! Whatever you have planned for the day, I'm sure, would be less than 16 hours. So the result of my days is that I would get bored as in to the max!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now during these times, I begin to reflect on things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know it hurts me to think that the person that I had made special in my life doesn't think the same of me. I mean, you are ready to do anything for that person and that person is just taking you for granted. shet dba? Parang that person is just ignoring you when you need that person, but you never ignore that person naman when the situation is reversed. Kahit na busy ka or something, you would never ignore that person because that person is special to you. That person had impacted your life to the point that that the person is part of who you are now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's even more frustrating is that you can't do anything to change that person, and you just can't stop yourself from caring for that person. Your emotions can't be controlled by the mind anymore because you made your emotions run free.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O what a lonely morning...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25333116-114411305548618941?l=mirroring-me.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirroring-me.blogspot.com/feeds/114411305548618941/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25333116&amp;postID=114411305548618941' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25333116/posts/default/114411305548618941'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25333116/posts/default/114411305548618941'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirroring-me.blogspot.com/2006/04/first-thoughts-after-waking-up.html' title='first thoughts after waking up'/><author><name>diana chan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09389162187263846869</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
