<?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-7713733000419917087</id><updated>2012-01-30T21:46:35.277+04:00</updated><category term='maikling kwento'/><category term='Nang Lumapot ang Utak'/><category term='Ka-blog-gastugan'/><category term='nag-REVIEW kasi may test bukas'/><category term='Sh**s I Made for Songs I Like'/><category term='Ala Lang'/><category term='Koleksiyon ng Buhangin'/><category term='Arenophile'/><category term='Para kay &quot;J&quot; - kwentong chop chop'/><category term='Emo-Emo'/><category term='In ENGLISH Shiznits'/><category term='short stories'/><title type='text'>Wattudu Yanie?</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Yanie's Ka-blags!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11501502004310550922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SU-VzSOLKfI/AAAAAAAAAAM/CJLGeE1rmx0/S220/girlumbrellabanner.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>83</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7713733000419917087.post-4482387825220727221</id><published>2010-10-02T00:24:00.003+04:00</published><updated>2010-10-02T00:33:58.368+04:00</updated><title type='text'>Pagtulog Patungo sa Kabilang Buhay</title><content type='html'>Papalubog na ang araw, nasa harapan ka pa rin ng computer.   Ilang araw ka nang ganito.  Parang robot, parang makina.  Pagdating galing opisina, computer pa rin ang kaharap.  Sa ngayon hinihintay mong magpakita ang mga kasamahan mo sa cyberworld.  Yung isang kalaguyo mo matagal nang di nagpaparamdam.  Kaya ngayon naghahanap ka na naman ng iba.  At gaya ng dati wala na naman sila kapag kailangan mo.  Saka lang sila nagpapakita kapag abala ka na sa maraming bagay.  Lagi na lang wrong timing.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Papatayin na sana ang computer dahil gusto mo nang ipahinga ang pagod mong isip.  Gusto mo nang gumawa na naman ng wala.  Ngunit biglang nag-buzz ang iyong kaibigan.  At siya nga’y nagbalita ng hindi maganda.  Isang classmate mo daw nung college, patay na.  Di lang daw pinugutan ng ulo sa taas, pati na rin sa baba.  Dimo naman kaibigan ang namatay at lalong dika naman apektado.  Ni hindi mo na nga matandaan ang mukha nito.  Ngunit ewan kung bakit bigla ka na lang hinaplos ng panlalamig.  Pakiramdam mo’y ihinanda na ang kobre kama para sa iyong napipintong kalungkutan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dumating ang asawa mo.  Ibinalita sayo na natanggal siya sa trabaho.  Napansin mo ang kakaiba at nakaka-panibagong lambing sa boses niya na parang nagsasabing, “Wag kang mag-alala, magiging okay din ang lahat” Tumango ka na lang, nagpanggap na totoo ang sinabi niya at ibinaling ulit ang atensiyon sa pagko-computer.  Sa diwa mo’y inaabot mo na ang unan, konti na lang bibigay ka na sa kama ng kalungkutan…  Ngunit desidido ka, ayaw mong magpatalo dito.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kaya sa paghahanap mo ng dibersiyon, nag-click ka nang nag click sa computer.  Naghanap ng makakapag-paaliw sayo.  Kung anu ano nang hubad na suso ang nakita mo, kung anu anong nang kalaswaan ang nabasa mo.  Hanggang sa mapadpad ka sa isang account na di naman sayo.  Doon nga’y natuklasan mong dalawang malapit sa puso mo ang nag-usap tungkol sayo.  Hindi mo ito nagustuhan.  Doon mo nalaman na isa ka palang walang kwentang tao, wala ka raw pakiramdam, walang konsensiya at makasarili.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tuluyan ka na ngang kinumutan ng lungkot.  Handa na ang kama, pati na rin ang iyong unan.  Doon nga’y pinaubaya mo na ang sarili mo sa isang madilim na pagtulog.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Habang bumibigat ang mata, umaandap ang liwanag “Sana…”  ang naging huling kataga…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Author's Notes:&lt;br /&gt;When I still felt like a writer&lt;br /&gt;This work is totally fictional&lt;br /&gt;A typical, ordinary routine of a bored and depressed person who is about to ................&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7713733000419917087-4482387825220727221?l=wattuduyanie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/feeds/4482387825220727221/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7713733000419917087&amp;postID=4482387825220727221&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/4482387825220727221'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/4482387825220727221'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/2010/10/pagtulog-patungo-sa-kabilang-buhay.html' title='Pagtulog Patungo sa Kabilang Buhay'/><author><name>Yanie's Ka-blags!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11501502004310550922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SU-VzSOLKfI/AAAAAAAAAAM/CJLGeE1rmx0/S220/girlumbrellabanner.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7713733000419917087.post-5415295526194215877</id><published>2010-07-27T10:19:00.002+04:00</published><updated>2010-07-27T10:59:27.863+04:00</updated><title type='text'>Random Today</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/TE59XbSWhXI/AAAAAAAAANA/BJxSBHHiiOk/s1600/SAM_0871.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/TE59XbSWhXI/AAAAAAAAANA/BJxSBHHiiOk/s320/SAM_0871.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5498470036481148274" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mommy while putting on the kids' shoes... (in the midst of shouting and crankiness ---- of the kids ---- to their mother --- because mommy's not helping them to find their shoes hehehe!) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MOMMY: When u already found the problem (meaning your shoes) &amp; the solution (meaning let's get on with life) no need to talk too much  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mommy has to translate it in tagalog to truly emphasize her point --- "kapag nakita mo na ang sapatos mo at nasolusyonan mo na ang problema mo (note of the eyes and the nose getting big) tumigil na sa katatalak!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;EZ:  Mommy what is ka-ta-ta-lak???  *insert a trying hard tagalog accent here*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mommy:  You are grounded!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7713733000419917087-5415295526194215877?l=wattuduyanie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/feeds/5415295526194215877/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7713733000419917087&amp;postID=5415295526194215877&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/5415295526194215877'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/5415295526194215877'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/2010/07/random-today.html' title='Random Today'/><author><name>Yanie's Ka-blags!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11501502004310550922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SU-VzSOLKfI/AAAAAAAAAAM/CJLGeE1rmx0/S220/girlumbrellabanner.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/TE59XbSWhXI/AAAAAAAAANA/BJxSBHHiiOk/s72-c/SAM_0871.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7713733000419917087.post-1888597656536578564</id><published>2010-07-15T11:54:00.003+04:00</published><updated>2010-07-15T12:01:43.016+04:00</updated><title type='text'>While watching TALES FROM THE CRYPTKEEPER</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/TD6_amjTrlI/AAAAAAAAAM4/Q4sbRmHq7ew/s1600/EZ+-+Butt+naked.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/TD6_amjTrlI/AAAAAAAAAM4/Q4sbRmHq7ew/s320/EZ+-+Butt+naked.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494039059184725586" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;EZ: I know how to do a creepy laugh mommy! "bwaahahahaha" - (and it was really creepy!)&lt;br /&gt;MOMMY: I know how to do a witchy laugh "bwwihihihihi" (and I was really trying to scare)&lt;br /&gt;EZ: That is not a witchy laugh, that is an ANT LAUGH... No, A TINY ANT LAUGH!&lt;br /&gt;MOMMY: (Jaw drop)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Author's Notes:&lt;br /&gt;-Short blogging..&lt;br /&gt;-EZ is my younger son&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7713733000419917087-1888597656536578564?l=wattuduyanie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/feeds/1888597656536578564/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7713733000419917087&amp;postID=1888597656536578564&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/1888597656536578564'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/1888597656536578564'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/2010/07/while-watching-tales-from-cryptkeeper.html' title='While watching TALES FROM THE CRYPTKEEPER'/><author><name>Yanie's Ka-blags!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11501502004310550922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SU-VzSOLKfI/AAAAAAAAAAM/CJLGeE1rmx0/S220/girlumbrellabanner.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/TD6_amjTrlI/AAAAAAAAAM4/Q4sbRmHq7ew/s72-c/EZ+-+Butt+naked.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7713733000419917087.post-7287585343432064227</id><published>2010-02-18T17:23:00.004+04:00</published><updated>2010-02-18T17:47:29.777+04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='In ENGLISH Shiznits'/><title type='text'>Yanie - The Minimalist</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;the fickle, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;alienated, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;generic, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;self-obsessed, family-less,&lt;br /&gt;often-alcoholic, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;often-divorced characters; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;the writers' fondness for the present tense and their concurrent disregard for background or historical explication; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;the monotonous use of colloquialisms, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;the prime-time sitcom speeches; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;the unresolved situations and the characters' vague sense of emptiness and disillusionment; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;the trendiness evidenced by endless references to brand names; ... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;the willingness of these authors to mirror social and cultural structures without probing towards ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;whattaheck,... this is too much...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I say... &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;the lesser the better....&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;*In case you are wondering why I posted this... I am trying my best to dissolve myself... &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/7713733000419917087-7287585343432064227?l=wattuduyanie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://www.questia.com/googleScholar.qst;jsessionid=L92SbvqJtfgQcW5chRWnbyXgL1nqnDNyxYQzV4vkHGl9J4LTmsXh!-450191940!1950377388?docId=5000462510' title='Yanie - The Minimalist'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/feeds/7287585343432064227/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7713733000419917087&amp;postID=7287585343432064227&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/7287585343432064227'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/7287585343432064227'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/2010/02/yanie-minimalist.html' title='Yanie - The Minimalist'/><author><name>Yanie's Ka-blags!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11501502004310550922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SU-VzSOLKfI/AAAAAAAAAAM/CJLGeE1rmx0/S220/girlumbrellabanner.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7713733000419917087.post-3853683985107658611</id><published>2009-12-28T16:55:00.004+04:00</published><updated>2010-02-18T17:48:48.176+04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='In ENGLISH Shiznits'/><title type='text'>In your Dreams (Rated R)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/S2WBOFNA09I/AAAAAAAAAJk/XBNYCjV4PJM/s1600-h/sleeping-beauty_1024x768.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432890604407280594" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 269px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/S2WBOFNA09I/AAAAAAAAAJk/XBNYCjV4PJM/s400/sleeping-beauty_1024x768.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Fiction from the attic...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;While you were sleeping, I was telling this in your face. While your eyes are shut and while you are not listening and that your thoughts may be at some paradise right now…. I want to tell you that I LOVE YOU. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, yeah I know we just had sex and of course it was as always blissful. And if you are hearing me right now… “Just go back to sleep” is definitely what you’re going to say. “Don’t tell me you want more?” Sometimes you also utter that.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When will you believe that your presence gives glow to my everyday life? Each time I hold your fingers and make it intertwine with mine and then kiss them when I couldn’t help it even if people are staring, when will you not pull back? When will you stop saying “It’s just shagging? It’s just sex?” When will you look straight into my eyes and tell me that you miss me too, instead of “Asshole, where in pete’s cave have you been this time?” or “Do you have some ciggy?”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I love you. It’s not just the fucking that I am loving you for. I know you are excellent with your blow job. I know that every encounter in bed with you is ecstatic. I even call it “making love” already. Fuck it! Even if you never believed in it. Oh… you just want to be a bitch always. You want to call the shots. You want the control. And you know that I would beg.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I am loving you more because of your wit, your strength, your personality. You don’t even look attractive to many. But you always leave me with something to think every time we chat. And that includes the battle whether I should convince myself that you are beautiful or not. I look into those eyes and I just get lost. I hear your honest words and it stings, it swings me to the core. You are so brutally frank. There’s no gentleness in your speech. You are filthy. Come to think of it, I gave you flowers once but you shoved it on my face. Because you said flowers are psychological symbols of a vagina. And since men are so obsessed with vaginas, you’ve practically instilled in my subconscious mind that I should respect you, even if you don’t really deserve it. Damn, I never knew you were this crazy, this wild. And with that I have loved you more. I don’t know why. And even if I bang my head to this wall at my back right now, I could never imagine how I have fallen to a lunatic like you. And now, I know I’m going cheap.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I talk to you while you are sleeping because this way, I can imagine the words you will tell me when I say those words. Because I got tired of thinking the opposite meanings of what you say whenever you are awake. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I love you” Yes, I just whispered those in your ears. So soft… because I don’t want you to hear it. So gentle, because I don’t want to wake you up. So faint, because I don’t want you to know. I need to keep it in me because I don’t want it to end. I still want to love you, even if I know you love me too but you are just so out of your mind to admit it. You are just too proud to feel needy, to feel emotional. You are so ecstatic and you don’t want to fall. I know. So let it be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;(Isn't is lovelier to love in secret?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;Open for criticism...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7713733000419917087-3853683985107658611?l=wattuduyanie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://www.filipinowriter.com/fantasy-or-in-your-dreams' title='In your Dreams (Rated R)'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/feeds/3853683985107658611/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7713733000419917087&amp;postID=3853683985107658611&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/3853683985107658611'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/3853683985107658611'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/2009/12/in-your-dreams-rated-r.html' title='In your Dreams (Rated R)'/><author><name>Yanie's Ka-blags!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11501502004310550922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SU-VzSOLKfI/AAAAAAAAAAM/CJLGeE1rmx0/S220/girlumbrellabanner.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/S2WBOFNA09I/AAAAAAAAAJk/XBNYCjV4PJM/s72-c/sleeping-beauty_1024x768.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7713733000419917087.post-4672890102503170112</id><published>2009-12-24T23:51:00.000+04:00</published><updated>2010-02-02T15:08:48.275+04:00</updated><title type='text'>Where is the Love?  While Listening to BEP...</title><content type='html'>Bisperas ng pasko.  Pangalawang araw ko na ring hindi naliligo.  Sobrang nangangati na ang ulo ko pero diko ito alintana.  Tuloy pa rin ang pag-tikatik ng aking keyboard.  Nakaka limang umpisa na ako ng kwento sa dalawang araw kong pag upo sa harapan ng lap top.  Wala talaga akong mapiga sa utak ko.  Marami akong naiisip pero nagiging struggle sa akin ang maging creative ngayon.  Malamang kailangan ko ng pampadulas, pantanggal ng bara, pampa-init ng utak.  Kailangan ko ng experience para may maisulat. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Marami, marami akong naiisip.  Pero bakit hindi ko maisulat?  Marami akong napagdaanan nitong mga nakaraang linggo.  Panay kalokohan.  Naisip ko, probably because it’s not worth writing.  Or, maybe because I’m not that affected at all.  Parang yung feeling na nawalan ako ng kamay, pero wala lang.  Nasunugan ako ng balat sa mukha pero wala lang…  May umalis at malamang dina babalik…  pero parang…  wala lang…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More than a month ago, I have been playing.   Playing with my emotions.  Playing with my career, playing with my reputation. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But… fuck it… &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fuck my emotions, I haven’t been feeling so good for quite a long time anyway.  Everything about this fucking feeling is a mess anyway.  I have been putting a lot of tests to myself.  Crazy tests.  For instance, I have made myself invisible to my close friends.  This is a test on who my friends really are.  Who will miss me,  who will look for me, who is greatly affected by my absence.  But most of all, this is a test for myself.  Can I live alone?  Big risk… But yeah, I’m just fucked up… big time!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fuck my career.  Eversince I landed in this god-forsaken job, I have never felt proud about myself.  I am so dying to get out of here.  Idagdag mo pa ang mga ka-opisina kong wala nang ibang ginawa kundi mag reklamo sa mga trabaho nila samantalang wala naman silang ginagawa.  Fuck it really.  Ibigay pa nila sa akin lahat ng trabaho nila wala silang reklamong mariring sa akin.   I want them all to get a life…  Hello, Tatagalugin ko to baka kasi mabasa nila.  Fuck it kung maintindihan nila.  It just shows how paranoid everyone is kung mage-effort pa talaga silang ipa-translate tong mga kabulastugan ko.  In a way…  alam kasi nilang nagba-blog ako.  Idagdag mo na rin ang amo kong nagbabasa na rin ng mga kalokohan ko.  I’m wondering if next year should be a good one.  Sa tingin ko dapat mag-umpisa na akong maghanap ng ibang trabaho.  Fuck this job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fuck my reputation.  It was a make-believe that I had a good one anyway.  This is me.  This is the real me.  This is my dark side.  This is my free-willed side.  Of course it had never been a good one…  So why bother?  I have in fact made it a point to be very annoying to everyone.  This way, I will never feel the pressure of doing good things to people.  This way, I will have the license to bad mouth everyone whenever I feel like it.  This way, I can say whatever I want… without feeling guilty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never ever want to feel guilt.  It stings.   Bisperas ng pasko pero mala-undas itong post ko…  tsk… ! Kakain na nga lang muna ako ng dinuguan.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7713733000419917087-4672890102503170112?l=wattuduyanie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/feeds/4672890102503170112/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7713733000419917087&amp;postID=4672890102503170112&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/4672890102503170112'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/4672890102503170112'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/2009/12/where-is-love-while-listening-to-bep.html' title='Where is the Love?  While Listening to BEP...'/><author><name>Yanie's Ka-blags!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11501502004310550922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SU-VzSOLKfI/AAAAAAAAAAM/CJLGeE1rmx0/S220/girlumbrellabanner.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7713733000419917087.post-3899646328428036880</id><published>2009-12-08T15:39:00.001+04:00</published><updated>2010-01-28T15:42:34.554+04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='In ENGLISH Shiznits'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Emo-Emo'/><title type='text'>L-U-S-T</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/S2F3vSmOSQI/AAAAAAAAAJc/y3xs7ATP9pQ/s1600-h/sunset_1_bg_111602.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431754279915243778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/S2F3vSmOSQI/AAAAAAAAAJc/y3xs7ATP9pQ/s400/sunset_1_bg_111602.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;It was one quiet afternoon .&lt;br /&gt;The sun was slowly trailing down to the world’s end&lt;br /&gt;The color of the afternoon sun was so perfect&lt;br /&gt;Golden brown&lt;br /&gt;Gold&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just like these thoughts I am having right now&lt;br /&gt;Subtle and then going deep&lt;br /&gt;Stretching out to the vastness and vagueness&lt;br /&gt;Of this little life I am living&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It boosts me up&lt;br /&gt;It makes me feel alive&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s hard to believe that just a few minutes ago,&lt;br /&gt;I was certain that I was still at my comfort zone&lt;br /&gt;Treading my daily complicated enough life&lt;br /&gt;Routinely performing the cyclic activities of a normal human being&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then you started speaking to me&lt;br /&gt;And I to you&lt;br /&gt;And then my heart was squeezed&lt;br /&gt;My boundaries was challenged&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it was a whirl wind jet of existence after that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has become a wild night&lt;br /&gt;The moon glows so bright that your face is stuck right there,&lt;br /&gt;I can’t take my eyes off it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am wanting you&lt;br /&gt;So badly&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I am waiting so patiently&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until the time comes&lt;br /&gt;When we meet with the moon and the stars&lt;br /&gt;And then you will own me&lt;br /&gt;All my desires and fantasies&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But until then, I will be tamed&lt;br /&gt;And will pleasurably think of the things to come&lt;br /&gt;Because I know you are wanting me too&lt;br /&gt;And you are preparing the moon to close its eyes&lt;br /&gt;So that the world will never care…&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7713733000419917087-3899646328428036880?l=wattuduyanie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/feeds/3899646328428036880/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7713733000419917087&amp;postID=3899646328428036880&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/3899646328428036880'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/3899646328428036880'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/2009/12/l-u-s-t.html' title='L-U-S-T'/><author><name>Yanie's Ka-blags!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11501502004310550922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SU-VzSOLKfI/AAAAAAAAAAM/CJLGeE1rmx0/S220/girlumbrellabanner.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/S2F3vSmOSQI/AAAAAAAAAJc/y3xs7ATP9pQ/s72-c/sunset_1_bg_111602.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7713733000419917087.post-7126678228770573031</id><published>2009-11-30T08:45:00.003+04:00</published><updated>2009-11-30T09:01:28.209+04:00</updated><title type='text'>FINALLY - It's my birthday!</title><content type='html'>Teka lang, naiiyak pa ako, ayoko muna mag-emo, diko bagay kasi komedyante naman ako at hindi pang horror...  Share ko muna ang birthday pityur video na ginawa ng aking lab na lab na si Drake, na pinilit ko muna ng bonggang bongga para lang gawin niya to...  hahahaha... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maraming tenkyu po to all my friends!!!  Bale yung mga hindi nagbigay ng picture greetings tumatanggap naman po ako ng cash kaya dun na lang kayo bumawi hehehe... Short lang muna to, napadaan lang po ako kasi kabilaan na ang yayaan ng inuman! hahahaha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SALAMAT PO!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Nr27QXYKr0Q&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0x234900&amp;amp;color2=0x4e9e00"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Nr27QXYKr0Q&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0x234900&amp;amp;color2=0x4e9e00" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7713733000419917087-7126678228770573031?l=wattuduyanie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/feeds/7126678228770573031/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7713733000419917087&amp;postID=7126678228770573031&amp;isPopup=true' title='30 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/7126678228770573031'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/7126678228770573031'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/2009/11/finally-its-my-birthday.html' title='FINALLY - It&apos;s my birthday!'/><author><name>Yanie's Ka-blags!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11501502004310550922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SU-VzSOLKfI/AAAAAAAAAAM/CJLGeE1rmx0/S220/girlumbrellabanner.jpg'/></author><thr:total>30</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7713733000419917087.post-7093829013154267267</id><published>2009-11-20T20:42:00.004+04:00</published><updated>2010-03-16T20:49:40.223+04:00</updated><title type='text'>2010</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Noong mga panahong maayos ayos pa ang kilay ko at wala pa akong buhok sa kili-kili, naging kaugalian ko na ang maglista ng mga bagay na gusto kong gawin sa buhay, kahit mga simple lang kagaya ng "7:46AM Mangulangot, 8:00 Tumae..., minsan nga kahit walang katuturan lang. Mga bagay na ayaw kong makalimutang gawin. Tinatawag ko itong ang aking TO-DO List-for-the-day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;There was once a time in my life when my eyebrows do not need threading as well as my armpits do not need to be shaved.  These were the times when I had the right mind to enlist stuff that I need to do in my everyday routine.  Stuff that I don’t want to forget like “7:46 AM Pick my nose, 8:00 Poo…, mostly stuff that does not make sense to other people, but for me these are the things I don’t want to miss out in my day.  Oh yeah people, I used to be a very organized person… I used to have my TO-DO list-for-the-day, every single day.  I was known for that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Kapag naman sinisipag, meron din ako nung tinatawag ko dating "faith goals for the year." At dito ko na-aapreciate ang sarap ng feeling kapag may mga naiche-check ako sa aking mga checklist, meaning to say, 1 goal achieved na naman ako. Kaya naman naging ugali ko na ang bumili ng diary or planner tuwing October pa lang ng kasalukuyang taon. Kasi nga, it would take at least 2 months para isipin kung ano ang mga nais kong makamit for the following year. Kagaya ng someday-sisikat-din-ako-chorva at mga kaeklatang magma-migrate ako sa Canada echos!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;When I feel like planning hard, I also have this nice list called “faith goals for the year.”  With this, I love the feeling of putting a check on my achievements every year-end.  It just means that I have again fulfilled something meaningful in my life. And so I make it a point to buy an organizer or a diary every October of the current year because it normally takes me 2 months to come up with some achievable  goals in my list.  Once, I actually have listed some bullshits like… “Work out on being famous…” and some boring aims  like I will migrate to Canada (*insert rolling eyes here*)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Pero, eto nga ay noong hindi pa ako tinutubuan ng nunal sa singit, kaya ang utak ko ay nalalapit-lapit pa ng konti sa aking ulo, in short, kayang kaya ko pang magplano ng matitinong mga bagay gaya ng mag-toothbrush at maligo. Ibig sabihin, lately, nagkaroon ako ng kadramahan sa buhay na kung saan nasagasaan ako ng isang tricyle at nabagok ang utak ko sa naka-usling bakal nang hindi pa natatapos na kanal sa kanto ng sheikh zayed road. At dahil sa sitwasyong ito, nalaglag ang ballpen ko, dina tuloy ako makapag-sulat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;But, this was me when I still don’t have a mole on my groin and that my brain was still quite close to my head.  In short, I still have the right mind to head on to the right path and do sensible, human-like activities such as brush my teeth and take a bath.  Well, that’s because lately… I have been through a traumatic experience where I was hit by a tricycle and my head had been knocked over a protruding rod in an under-construction pavement along sheikh zayed road.  And while these things were happening, I sadly dropped my ballpen, lost it… and so I can no longer write.  (yeah, go figure)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Na-miss ko na ang magsulat ng mga plano ko sa buhay. Na-miss ko na ang sarap ng feeling ng nagche-check ng mga achievements ko. At nang mga failures na ike-carry over ko lang naman for the following year. Nakaka-miss ang maging busy sa career, ang maging workaholic. At lalong nakaka-miss ang feeling ng self-worth and confidence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;I miss writing my goals in life.  I suddenly pined for the sweetness of grabbing my list and putting a check on my achievements.  I do of course have failures, but I don’t take them as such.  I take them as just a delay which I just carry over for the next year.  I miss being busy in my career, I miss being a workaholic.  But mostly, I yearn for the feeling of self worth and confidence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Kaya lang, habang petiks pa ang buhay ko ngayon, naisipan ko pa ring bumili ng aking 2010 diary. At dahil dito, nais kong i-share sa inyo ang aking mga bagay na gustong i-achieve for next year. Ito yung mga goals na na-postpone. Mga plano na under-process pa lang before ako magka-amnesia. At ang iba naman ay mga bagay na hindi maalis-alis sa utak ko. Mga bagay na matagal ko nang pinangarap, pero diko lang sineryoso, pero ngayon seseryosohin ko na. Kaya kung may maitutulong ka, you are welcome to give me the opportunity to achieve all of these goals below:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;But since I am still in my lazy mood, I still thought of buying my diary.  And I want to share with you the stuff that I want to achieve for next year.  These were the objectives that have been postponed.  Some were under process before I had the amnesia.  And mostly were thoughts that I can’t take out from my mind.  Things that I’ve always wanted to do, but some of them were really crazy, so I never took them seriously, but now I intend to…  So if  you think you can help, you are welcome to give me that opportunity:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;1. Kumanta sa harapan ng audience nang may microphone. Opo. Matagal ko nang frustration ang kumanta with feelings. Yun bang papalakpakan ako ng audience. (If you will notice ang audience po is pronounced with an "S" sa dulo, gramatically speaking, plural yan... ibig sabihin maraming tao ang manonood.) Yung fi-feeling-in ko talaga ang pagkanta mala- Alanis Morissette or Sheryl Crow, gigita-gitara or something... Hindi maganda ang boses ko, inaamin ko yun at di rin ako magaling mag-gitara pero isa lang ang asset ko, makapal ang mukha ko... (Takte kayo, wag kayong magdadala ng kamatis ha!) Pero seriously, isa yan sa mga pangarap ko at gagawin ko yan balang araw... Habang may buhay, may kalamay...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;1. Sing in front of an audience with a microphone.  It has always been my frustration to perform with feelings.  That kind of performance where the audience will clap with gusto! (If you will notice… “audience” is pronounced with an “s” in the end… so grammatically speaking that is plural, meaning there should be more than 1 person in there, clapping for me).  I wanted to feel the song like how Alanis Morissette or Sheryl Crow sings them, and will play the guitar if it’s not too much to ask.  I must admit though that I’m not good at playing the guitar and I can’t f* make a tune but the good thing is I have a very stable self confidence, a forgetful mind and I have no shame at all.  A very good combination for a future famous singer I can say…  I only have one request for my followers… no tomatoes please!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;2. Mag-drive ng Range Rover. Wala akong balak bumili nito. Pero manghang mangha ako sa sasakyang ito. Pag nakakakita ako ng ganito sa daan, sobra akong naa-amaze. Ang i-drive lang ito ay ayos na sa akin. Gusto ko kasing maramdaman kahit papano ang mag-drive ng isang luxury car. At minsan, ini-imagine ko din kasi kung paano mag-drive ang isang pandakekong katulad ko ng isang higanteng sasakyan. Makikita pa kaya ako na nagda-drive?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;2.  To drive a Range Rover.  I don’t have plans on buying one.  It’s not like I couldn’t afford it (hahaha), but I have always been amazed with this car.  Driving this maybe just once is good enough for me… I just want to know the feeling of driving a luxury car.  And sometimes I also imagine how a midget like me is going to drive a humongous car like this.  Wondering if you’ll ever see me in the driver’s seat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Mag publish ng sarili kong libro. Ang title ay... "The Life and Times of Andeng Buraot." Bumili kayo mga ka-epal ko hah!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;3.  To publish my own book.  The title would be… “The Life and Times of Andeng Buraot [Andeng Annoying].”  To all my avid e-pals… I force you to buy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;4. Mai-angkas sa isang motorbike ng isang hunk na hunk na gwapong gwapong Papa-Material. Woooooohhhh, trip ko yung mabilis na mabilis ang pagpapatakbo niya tapos sisigaw ako sa takot... habang naka-kapit ako ng mahigpit sa kanyang dibdib, (bawal daw ang himas, wala sa kontrata... hahaha, binayaran pala!) &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;4.  To have a motorbike ride with a super-hunk and mega-handsome Papa-Material [Boyfriend Material].   Woooohhooohhhhh!!!  I would love the feeling of him running the bike so fast and then I will shout at the top of my voice because I am so scared to my guts, while clutching so hard in his chest.  (Disclaimer:  caressing, cuddling and touching is not part of the contract…  hahahha this is paid service, mind you)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;5. To get a tattoo... Wag na kayong magtanong kung saan ko ipapalagay. Basta gusto ko magpa-tattoo... ng dinosaur sa aking balikat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;5.  To get a tattoo.  Don’t ask me where I want to have it.  I just want to have a tattoo… of a dinosaur on my shoulder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;6. Basahin ang isa sa aking obra-maestrang tula sa isang poetry reading.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;6.  To read one of my masterpiece poem in a poetry reading event.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;7. To be painted... NUDE. Hahaha, joke lang, pero pangarap ko talagang may mag-pinta sa akin, kahit na kilay ko lang.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;7.  To be painted… NUDE.   Hahaha, I’m just kidding.  But one of my ambitions really is for someone to draw a painting of me.  Even if it’s just my eyebrows.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;8. Ang magpa make-over kay Dr Calayan. Papatanggal ko yung mga pimples ko at mga peklat ko sa katawan.  Papagawa ko ang aking boobs… ilong, puwit, tenga at ngala-ngala, hahahha!&lt;br /&gt; &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;8.  To have a make-over with Dr. Calayan5.  I want to get rid of my annoying pimples and disgusting scars, have a bit of a boob job, nose job, butt job, blow job…  hahahaha!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;9. Ang mapasama sa MTV ng &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/user/BurgerHouseBoys"&gt;Burger House Boys.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;9.  To be casted with Burger House Boys MTV&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;10. WSOB. (*YM niyo na lang ako kung curious kayo sa ibig sabihin nito*)&lt;br /&gt; &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;10.  WSOB.  (*Give me a buzz on my Yahoo Messenger if you are curious on what this means*)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7713733000419917087-7093829013154267267?l=wattuduyanie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/feeds/7093829013154267267/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7713733000419917087&amp;postID=7093829013154267267&amp;isPopup=true' title='20 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/7093829013154267267'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/7093829013154267267'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/2009/11/2010.html' title='2010'/><author><name>Yanie's Ka-blags!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11501502004310550922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SU-VzSOLKfI/AAAAAAAAAAM/CJLGeE1rmx0/S220/girlumbrellabanner.jpg'/></author><thr:total>20</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7713733000419917087.post-8300068672411125267</id><published>2009-11-17T10:03:00.002+04:00</published><updated>2009-11-17T10:07:19.293+04:00</updated><title type='text'>Good Stuff!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;This is my journal entry for the day.  Written while on the way to work…  driving…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are a lot of reasons for this smile on my face today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For one, I am wearing an unusual pair of earrings.  It’s definitely not something posh, I don’t wear posh stuff, alright.  It was given by a person dear to me and I treasure it.  I am trying to make a reason, why these two were the only earrings left in my plastic “jewelry” box.  I used to have two pairs of these same made earrings, only that one is black and the other white.  But all I have is one of each color.  I will count the people who will become aware of this today. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Second reason, after being called a “weird mom” by my “weird kid” who’s always tired of talking to me over the phone, it reminds me that you can’t expect an apple tree to bear an orange fruit. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Third thing, the fact that today is a gloomy day and there’s fog everywhere, makes me think that winter is stinging me out but my mind is insisting that in a few minutes the sun will be striking hot again…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The fact that I am having a lot of bizarre conversations with exceptional people lately and thinking about the odd things I never imagine of doing, makes my energy soar a bit higher than usual. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I smile because I am whistling right now with Axl Rose’ song “Patience.”  Reminds me of the untroubled days of just going to school, fiddling with a lot of things and laugh and cry with my fellow troubled friends and then laugh again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I smile because for once, I am writing something happy in this diary.  I smile because of the fact that today I have started moving on, forgot the pains of the past and not worrying myself with the future. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And of course, adding the fact that I have a pen in my right hand while handwriting this piece of my mind in my journal, my notebook on the left and 3 fingers of each hand on the steering wheel. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So when I reach the office, I am going to treat myself with the nicest coffee, indulge myself with it, have a good laugh while once again (borrowing DP’s line) seizing the day!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7713733000419917087-8300068672411125267?l=wattuduyanie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/feeds/8300068672411125267/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7713733000419917087&amp;postID=8300068672411125267&amp;isPopup=true' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/8300068672411125267'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/8300068672411125267'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/2009/11/good-stuff.html' title='Good Stuff!'/><author><name>Yanie's Ka-blags!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11501502004310550922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SU-VzSOLKfI/AAAAAAAAAAM/CJLGeE1rmx0/S220/girlumbrellabanner.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7713733000419917087.post-3350153954955750277</id><published>2009-11-15T03:00:00.001+04:00</published><updated>2009-11-15T15:08:20.402+04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='In ENGLISH Shiznits'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='short stories'/><title type='text'>Dancing like the Butterflies</title><content type='html'>“This is my last.” I told myself after pouring the last drop of white wine on my glass. I have been drinking a lot again. The sound in the bar is pounding so hard. My heart keeps throbbing in harmony with its rhythm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The base of the music is making it hard for me to breath. It almost feels like crushing my ear drums. But then again, this is the part I love most. This is when I stand up and just hit the dance floor. Dance, with my eyes closed, sway my body with my head up, raise my hands with all the moves as if alluring every god in the universe to dance with a frail, innocent, fragile child. But I am no child… nor innocent. And I learned that this is what everyone wants to see and love to devour… in a chaotic place like this, a jungle in a hunting season, where everyone is a lion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s a strange thing that when I’m drunk, is also when my senses are at their best state. I am woozy and sometimes would drool while laughing so hard over a non-sense joke, but ask me math questions and I can, without thinking give you the right answer. They say that when one is drunk, they tend not to know what they are doing. For me, this is utterly crap. You know exactly what you are doing, you just know that all your senses make you soar like the wind and prod you to the peak of your audacity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While dancing, this guy, keeps staring at me. I know. My fully discerning sense of sight is telling me that he has slightly curly hair. He's a brit. He’s holding his beer and he is with his girl, whom I think he’d only met at the club 6 minutes ago. She’s Chinese.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is what I love to do. Dance like I’ve never danced before. I love dancing… in most times, I love dancing on my own. The secret to enjoying this is to ignore the people coming at you and when they try hard to move with your groove, it’s best to turn around and let them scowl at your snub.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Tomorrow you are just one tequilla I drank, you may give me the headache, but that will surely pass”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But not the music… The music, damn lingers on. It stays in your head, whether or not you have the overshadow of each night’s mischievous fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someone grabbed me from the nape. With that I had to open my eyes and see what the hell is this guy’s problem. To my surprise, it’s not a guy. It’s the Chinese girl that curly-haired-man was with. She teased me into dancing with her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mind was laughing but with a serious look, it also dictated “Play his game.” This is for his pleasure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I danced with the Chinese hooker. Damn, we were hot. Everyone was staring at us. I grabbed her neck and stared at her, eye to eye, while swaying my shoulders. My other hand is now exploring at her back. Teasing, enticing, tempting. “Is this what you want?” My mind is shouting at every man surrounding us. I felt the girl’s inconvenience. I know she was surprised that I gave in to her partner’s dare.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I moved my face closer to hers. And ran pass my nose to her cheeks up to her eyes. Our bodies are so close to each other. I can feel her softness. I kissed her earlobe and buried my head to her neck. My face is now covered with her hair. She smells pleasant, but I think I smell nicer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Both my hands are now reaching to her butt. Still swaying and moving to the music beat, I squeezed one of them and I think I heard someone let out a suppressed exhale.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then the Chinese girl finally whispered in my ear, in her mandarin accent “The guy I’m with... wants the two of us”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I answered her back saying…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;“I am not what you think I am.”&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I left the dance floor with all eyes magnetted on me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Author's Note:&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Purely Fiction&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7713733000419917087-3350153954955750277?l=wattuduyanie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/feeds/3350153954955750277/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7713733000419917087&amp;postID=3350153954955750277&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/3350153954955750277'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/3350153954955750277'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/2009/11/dancing-like-butterflies.html' title='Dancing like the Butterflies'/><author><name>Yanie's Ka-blags!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11501502004310550922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SU-VzSOLKfI/AAAAAAAAAAM/CJLGeE1rmx0/S220/girlumbrellabanner.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7713733000419917087.post-6976323945436863813</id><published>2009-11-12T09:26:00.000+04:00</published><updated>2009-11-23T09:31:25.354+04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='In ENGLISH Shiznits'/><title type='text'>This Fucking Piece of Shit (an English Translation of CLOSET WRITER's "Ang Puta na to")</title><content type='html'>You’re fed up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fed up of being you… you burn up, bit by bit… And so I’m drawing a dark picture… in order to silence this fucking feeling I have right now, in this instance, I am offering this to myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because everything that you are, is me…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cold, strong, lewd, rolled over, hollowed&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;U-P-W-A-R-D-S&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Used up&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;already&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;maybe you will try, you will fry, you will stick it, lick it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and then you will flick it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in a fucking place&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;where all the insanely lascivious people are going to expose their smelling crotch and testicles and the perverts who are looking for worldly pleasure…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;or pay for it…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in any amount…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;whatever it is that they are fucking doing and playing at&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;who’s going to share?&lt;br /&gt;Who’s going to watch?&lt;br /&gt;Who’s going to understand?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You refuse to&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because you are&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fed up of all the motha-fuckers&lt;br /&gt;Fed up of arguing&lt;br /&gt;Fed up of pretending&lt;br /&gt;Fed up of acting&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And fed up&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;of this art-i-ficial&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;fucking&lt;br /&gt;flavors&lt;br /&gt;shags&lt;br /&gt;feelings&lt;br /&gt;deceptions&lt;br /&gt;charades&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and fuck!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;everything on you is&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ooovvvveeerrrrlllyyyy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;fed up of being laughed at&lt;br /&gt;fed up of being rushed&lt;br /&gt;fed up of being underneath&lt;br /&gt;fed up of being ejaculated&lt;br /&gt;and fed up of all distortions&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;fed up of the assholes&lt;br /&gt;fed up of playing&lt;br /&gt;fed up of performing&lt;br /&gt;fed up of masturbating&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;resting&lt;br /&gt;harsh&lt;br /&gt;lost&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did you get it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m just saying&lt;br /&gt;All of these fucking shits&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you are dejected of all these evilness&lt;br /&gt;because you’re already tired of being blamed&lt;br /&gt;tired of playing&lt;br /&gt;tired of all your false names&lt;br /&gt;that has different faces and fames&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;did you see it?&lt;br /&gt;did you sense it?&lt;br /&gt;did you understand it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you’re tired of yourself&lt;br /&gt;tired of smiling&lt;br /&gt;tired of selling&lt;br /&gt;tired of swallowing&lt;br /&gt;You want to surrender&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of these are WRONG&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And this fucking passe annoying song&lt;br /&gt;Is being sang in a flat voice&lt;br /&gt;And now… the end is near… and so I face, the final curtain!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;BANG! BANG!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;GANGBANG. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is just me&lt;br /&gt;Already outmoded of that fame&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tired of being tired&lt;br /&gt;Tired of looking at it&lt;br /&gt;Tired of hearing it&lt;br /&gt;Tired of feeling it&lt;br /&gt;Tired of sucking dicks&lt;br /&gt;again and again, oh so tired…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And with all that…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suck me…&lt;br /&gt;Suck me to the bones&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You did it… really hard&lt;br /&gt;And I cried&lt;br /&gt;I am this fucking shit?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am?&lt;br /&gt;Excessively tired…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of him&lt;br /&gt;Of you&lt;br /&gt;Of them all&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I AM!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tired of all these wickedness&lt;br /&gt;Did you see it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am tired of this craziness&lt;br /&gt;Of this darkness&lt;br /&gt;Of this fashion&lt;br /&gt;Of this melancholy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of this fucking poem&lt;br /&gt;Like this&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One…&lt;br /&gt;I’m done&lt;br /&gt;Almost&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Come my love…&lt;br /&gt;Run!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Drained of this fucking poem&lt;br /&gt;And&lt;br /&gt;This fucking house&lt;br /&gt;Full of lonely, senseless and boring fornication&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shoot yourself now&lt;br /&gt;Then it’s finished…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shit !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am simply&lt;br /&gt;Fed up and tired of everything&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suck me dry&lt;br /&gt;Consume me&lt;br /&gt;Make me beg for more&lt;br /&gt;Eat me&lt;br /&gt;Swallow me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because fuck… !&lt;br /&gt;Yes… !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you’re happy and you know it&lt;br /&gt;Clap your fucking hands…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wooohoooo !!!&lt;br /&gt;It’s party time!&lt;br /&gt;It’s okay now&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’ve had my summit, my pinnacle, my orgasm&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now I have this grin&lt;br /&gt;Now we can smile so we can again ruin&lt;br /&gt;Oneself&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bye now,&lt;br /&gt;Fucking piece shit!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.filipinowriter.com/ang-puta-na-to"&gt;Tagalog Version by Closet Writer - Ang Puta na 'to&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;# 22 Nov 09&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7713733000419917087-6976323945436863813?l=wattuduyanie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/feeds/6976323945436863813/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7713733000419917087&amp;postID=6976323945436863813&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/6976323945436863813'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/6976323945436863813'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/2009/11/this-fucking-piece-of-shit-english.html' title='This Fucking Piece of Shit (an English Translation of CLOSET WRITER&apos;s &quot;Ang Puta na to&quot;)'/><author><name>Yanie's Ka-blags!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11501502004310550922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SU-VzSOLKfI/AAAAAAAAAAM/CJLGeE1rmx0/S220/girlumbrellabanner.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7713733000419917087.post-2207791880777191607</id><published>2009-11-10T20:00:00.005+04:00</published><updated>2009-11-10T20:29:29.120+04:00</updated><title type='text'>Na-inggit lang!!</title><content type='html'>Panay emo ang nakaraang araw ko... Pano ba naman kasi nitong mga nagdaang araw eh napasama ako sa mga taong nasobrahan yata ang kain ng paminta.  Ito yung mga klase ng mga taong, mapa-lasing man o hinde, eh hindi pa rin tumitigil sa kada-daldal.  Minsan talaga nauubusan ako ng energy para sumabay sa kanilang super-powers.  At hindi lang din minsan kong tinanong sa kanila kung "TAO KA BA?"  hehehe...  Pero super-friends ko tong mga power-rangers na to and as always, I am so glad to have found new friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isa pang highlight ng araw ko ngayon ay ang pag-sakit ng aking panga...  hindi dahil sa bagay na nasa isip mo ngayon, wag mong pigain ang mala-porselana kong isip okay?  Kundi nang mapanood ko ang picture greetings ni Drake at ang mga behind the scene na nangyari sa da-making ng video niya.... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kaya nga dahil dun diko na mapigilang mag-  Hoooooyyy!!!  Ppppssstttt!!!&lt;br /&gt;Mama!!! Ale!!! Chelly!! Yosi!!!&lt;br /&gt;Isa na lang aalis na!!!  Papuntang Quiapo!!!&lt;br /&gt;Gusto ko rin ng picture greetings!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nainggit ako kay &lt;a href="http://utaknidrake.blogspot.com/2009/11/piktyur-gritings.html"&gt;Drake,&lt;/a&gt; I demand my picture greetings!!! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maawa na kayo sakin please!!! hahahaha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Birthday ko din sa November 30... 20 years old lang ako hahahahaha, wala nang pakialaman ng taon pwede ba?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yung mga may puso at kyut na katulad ko, pa send naman po ng picture niyo na may nakalagay na ang "kyut-kyut mo Yanie grabe!!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At dahil di ako marunong gumawa ng video na kagaya ng ginawa ni Drake at ni Jepoy, eh kung pwedeng pakipadala naman before November 30, sa email add na &lt;a href="mailto:yanz_1130@yahoo.com"&gt;yanz_1130@yahoo.com&lt;/a&gt; para mai-pagawa ko pa yun sa head ng IT department namin hahaah!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Para dun sa hindi magpapadala, nalalapit na ang pagtatapos ng maliligayang araw niyo hahah!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks in advance!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7713733000419917087-2207791880777191607?l=wattuduyanie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/feeds/2207791880777191607/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7713733000419917087&amp;postID=2207791880777191607&amp;isPopup=true' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/2207791880777191607'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/2207791880777191607'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/2009/11/na-inggit-lang.html' title='Na-inggit lang!!'/><author><name>Yanie's Ka-blags!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11501502004310550922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SU-VzSOLKfI/AAAAAAAAAAM/CJLGeE1rmx0/S220/girlumbrellabanner.jpg'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7713733000419917087.post-1960914252918244281</id><published>2009-11-04T12:06:00.009+04:00</published><updated>2009-11-04T14:22:51.820+04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ka-blog-gastugan'/><title type='text'>Para kang Karinderyang Nakabukas sa Lahat... BOW!</title><content type='html'>Una sa lahat, sana hindi pa panis, gusto kong i-share and pinaka unang AWARD na natanggap ko sa mundo ng kabulastugan...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sobrang enjoy ako sa mga friendships at sa mga nakakalokang comments ng mga alien sa nakakawindang na mundong ito... Kaya Kanye West, be STILL... sutil! At akinang ipe-prepare ang speech ko para sa aking Ms. Unibers award hehehe, este Best Blog Award na galing kay &lt;a href="http://akuztikaddict.blogspot.com/2009/10/best-blog-award.html"&gt;Diyosang Vonfire&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400164454350038066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 91px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SvE89b45pDI/AAAAAAAAAHo/xC28VC3ed_A/s400/bestblog_award.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Von, pwede ko bang i-moment muna tong award ko, yoko muna sanang i-share hehehe... pero dahil nakakain ako ng croissant ngayon (pronounces as "kwosunt") o diva sosyal... ipapasa ko na lang ang award na to kay... hmmmm...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hmmmmmm....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hmmmm.... uleetttt...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;isa pang hmmmmm....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sa akin na lang hahaha, wala naman na akong maisip na ibang best blog kundi ako lang nyahahaha.... jokeness, pasa ko to kina...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://utaknidrake.blogspot.com/"&gt;DRAKE&lt;/a&gt; (kahit na walang ka-kwenta kwenta kang tao dahil birthday mo yan na ang regalo ko sayo! hahaha)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;kay &lt;a href="http://iamalivingsaint.blogspot.com/"&gt;JEPOY&lt;/a&gt; (sayo na rin basta may berjer ha!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;kay &lt;a href="http://www.kablogie.com/"&gt;KABLOGIE&lt;/a&gt; (shawarma na may tabasco pwede na)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;kay &lt;a href="http://timeofreflection.blogspot.com/"&gt;JEE&lt;/a&gt; (discount naman sa blacberry)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;tsaka kay &lt;a href="http://simplydhianz.blogspot.com/"&gt;DHIANZ&lt;/a&gt; (wag kang mag-ala Boy Abunda jan na nangi-scoop ng chismis... dimo bagay waaahahaha)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ayan sa inyo na yang award na yan... alam ko marami na kayo niyan, kaya pagbigyan niyo na ang pers taym na katulad ko, nanginginig pa nga ohh...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tapos niyan, gusto ko na ring i-share sa lahat ang isa sa mga favorite kong songs ngayon... eto panoorin niyo....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/1fE5kIeu-vk&amp;amp;hl=" width="425" height="344" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" color2="0x4e9e00" fs="1&amp;amp;color1="&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SENGS!!!!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7713733000419917087-1960914252918244281?l=wattuduyanie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/feeds/1960914252918244281/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7713733000419917087&amp;postID=1960914252918244281&amp;isPopup=true' title='17 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/1960914252918244281'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/1960914252918244281'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/2009/11/para-kang-karinderyang-nakabukas-sa.html' title='Para kang Karinderyang Nakabukas sa Lahat... BOW!'/><author><name>Yanie's Ka-blags!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11501502004310550922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SU-VzSOLKfI/AAAAAAAAAAM/CJLGeE1rmx0/S220/girlumbrellabanner.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SvE89b45pDI/AAAAAAAAAHo/xC28VC3ed_A/s72-c/bestblog_award.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>17</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7713733000419917087.post-993623979550528044</id><published>2009-10-31T04:02:00.004+04:00</published><updated>2009-10-31T04:08:22.929+04:00</updated><title type='text'>My Birthday Wish List</title><content type='html'>Tapos na naman ang buwan ng October. Ano na naman ba ang natapos ko ngayong buwan na to kundi tumataginting at ma-asensong WALAAA! Sobrang successful ko sa pag-accomplish ng WALA. Mahirap gumawa ng WALA ha... Malaking effort din yun. Kasi lahat tayo ang gusto'y makagawa ng kahit na ano kahit papaano, at wala ni isa man ang ginustong makagawa ng wala... so technically... meron pa rin akong nagawa... ano nga ba yun?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, kung tapos na nga ang October, ano ang ibig sabihin nun? eh di siyempre, mag uumpisa na ang November. Happy Halloween nga pala to everyone. Nami-miss ko na nga pala ang pagtambay sa sementeryo kapag ganitong araw ng mga patay. Dun kasi kami kumakain ng IUD at betamax. Tapos, sound and foods ang trip. Dati yun, ngayon kasi yata ipinagbabawal na ang malakas na sounds sa sementeryo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Depress depressan ang mood ko ngayon. Magbe-birthday na naman kasi ako. Takte, magbe-bente na pala ako, wala man lang akong maipagmamalaki maliban sa nada-dagdagan lang ang edad at mga utang. Teka, bente ba ang nasabi ko? sige hayaan mo na, nakakapagod ang mag-edit eh. So yun nga, dumadami lalo ang mabibigat na dalahin sa buhay, pati ang makinis kong kutis, nagkaka tighiyawat na. Nagmumukha na tuloy akong pimple na tinubuan ng mukha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cool sanang gayahin ang picture greetings ni Jepoy para sa aking birthday, pero diyahe naman kasi ayoko ng gaya- gaya kaya wag na lang. Nagi-guilty pa nga ako kasi di pala ako nakapag bigay sa kanya ng aking picture greeting eh sobrang close ko pa naman kay Jeps... Sa sobrang closeness eh dina ako makahinga...(feeling close lang, hehehe, pagbigyan monako Jepoy).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kaya ang gagawin ko na lang eh ililista ko na lang dito ang aking mga birthday wishes para naman makapag-prepare na ang mga sensitive and caring kong friendseses who are there to make sure that I spend a memorable birthday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Number 1. I wish to have 1 million dirhams. Pati tumbong ng magreregalo sa akin nito hahalikan ko hahaha!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Number 2. 2010 Organizer/ diary. October pa lang ng kasalukuyang taon naguumpisa na akong bumili ng mga ganito. Lagi kasi akong excited for the next year. Pero ngayong year, sinadya ko talagang di muna bumili, dahil siguro I'm not looking forward for the next year. At tsaka isa pa, wala talaga akong pambili. Kaya kung sino man ang gustong magregalo gusto ko sana yung pocket lang, yung hindi bulky. Lagi ko kasing dala dala ang diary ko kahit san ako magpunta, kaya sana yung hindi mabigat sa bag. Wag na kayong magreklamo kung demanding ako, birthday ko naman eh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Number 3. Wish ko sana may magpadala sa akin ng orange roses sa birthday ko. Roses ha, hindi rose, plural yun kaya dapat madami dami, mga 3 or more siguro.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Number 4. Sana may manlibre sa akin ng sine. Kung medyo may pera yung manlilibre, paki-libre na rin ako ng kape... Kung pwede pa ring humirit, eh sana ilibre na rin ako sa inuman... (hahahah... isiningit talaga ang pagiging alcoholic?) Joke lang po, chismis lang po ang issue na lasenggera ako. Pinagkakalat lang yun ng mga taong naiinggit sa akin hhaha!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Number 5. Sana mag organize ang mga friends ko ng surprise birthday party, yung hindi ko sasagutin ang handa, para naman ma-surprise ako hehehe. (Araaay, ayan may bumatok na sakin!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Number 6. At ang pinaka-importante sa lahat ng mga hiling ko ay "World Peace" (ang plastic, parang pang ms. universe lang, hehe)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;May number 7 pa pala. Pakilibre na rin ako ng round trip ticket to the Philippines. Bibili lang sana ako ng balot, na mainit init pa sa basket ni Manong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Siyempre hihirit pa ako ng number 8. Burberry Classic. oks na sakin ang 50ml.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Itotodo ko nato hanggang 10, once a year lang naman akong humiling eh, better take the shot, coz you'll never know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So ang number 9 sa wish ko eh, libro ni Jack Kwek-kwek (Kereoack) nakalimutan ko na ang apelyido, "On the Road"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And number 10. Sana matupad lahat ng wish ko. Yun lang&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mag comment ka na sa ibaba kung may naisip ka nang walang kwentang sasabihin kasi ang susunod na babasahin mo na eh ang mga ma-emo kong mga ka-shitang saloobin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Una. Ilang beses na akong nasabihan kung bakit wala daw akong pinapakinggan sa buhay. Sabi ko, iba ang nakikinig sa ginagawa ang naririnig. Lahat tayo may sariling desisyon at judgement sa mga bagay bagay. Tulad halimbawa ng pagkilatis kung alin ang mali at tamang mga payo. Pakikinggan mo pa rin ang sarili mong judgment, kasi minsan nakakalito kung ano nga ba ang mga tamang payo. Kasi kung alam natin na nagagawa nating lahat ng "tamang" payo, wala na sanang tao ang nagkakamali.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pangalawa. Nais kong sabihin sa mga mahal ko sa buhay na mahal na mahal ko rin sila. Nandito ako sa punto de bista ng buhay ko kung saan selective ako sa mga pinakikinggan ko. And most of the time, kahit isang sentence o isang word lang ang sinabi mo, kahit pa ang words na yun ay "Shit Ka, Yanie!" kung naramdaman kong may pagmamahal ang sinabi mo, isasapuso ko yan. Hindi ko hinihiling na intindihin niyo ako, dahil malaki akong engot, walang makakaintidi sa akin, sinto sinto lang siguro... Ang nais ko lang ay sana pakiramdaman niyo muna ako bago niyo ako sabihan. Or better yet, wag niyo na lang akong sabihan, di naman ako nakikinig eh... yakap na lang siguro, pero dapat may kasamang luha at sipon na tumutulo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pangatlo. Para kina EJ at EZ. Ang ga-gwapo niyo. Mahal na mahal ko kayo. Grabe!  Yun lang.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Paki greet na lang ako sa birthday ko hah!  Salamat!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7713733000419917087-993623979550528044?l=wattuduyanie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/feeds/993623979550528044/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7713733000419917087&amp;postID=993623979550528044&amp;isPopup=true' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/993623979550528044'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/993623979550528044'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/2009/10/my-birthday-wish-list.html' title='My Birthday Wish List'/><author><name>Yanie's Ka-blags!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11501502004310550922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SU-VzSOLKfI/AAAAAAAAAAM/CJLGeE1rmx0/S220/girlumbrellabanner.jpg'/></author><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7713733000419917087.post-1001128081359609445</id><published>2009-10-28T22:50:00.006+04:00</published><updated>2009-11-05T17:36:17.335+04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sh**s I Made for Songs I Like'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='In ENGLISH Shiznits'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='short stories'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Emo-Emo'/><title type='text'>Ang Huling El Bimbo</title><content type='html'>My roommate is so annoying tonight. I was sleeping when he woke me up… It was only 8:19pm. The problem is… it’s the weekend. It gets so boring because there’s nothing to do. No friends calling. Seems like everyone just want to laze around, sleep and do nothing today. I’ve never been a party go-er myself anyway. My life has been pretty boring, so there’s really not much to complain about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Especially at this season. When there’s just a lot of bad things happening around. And I for one, is greatly affected by this bad omen spreading. Last month, I just received termination papers from my company. I worked my last day today. I still don’t have a job. And I only have one month to stay in this god-forsaken place, otherwise I’m going home to my country with a big letter “L” on my head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few hours back, I was just hearing my roommate having a fight with her girlfriend. I was annoyed, yes. But that has already become a part of my weekly roommate-relationship-update. I can't help but hear my friend's endless, stupid, nonsense and inconsistent excuses and denials to his girlfriend. Tragically for me, I have to also bear the stresses that my friend has to go through... and after each and every fight, the last words he'd say... "Argh! girls!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Buddy, I hear something strange, come!” he suddenly grabbed my arm and practically dragged me to the balcony. He did not even bother waiting to get my feet on to my slippers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“What the hell is your problem?” I was genuinely annoyed this time, although it should take more than that for me to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He shushed me. He said, “Listen.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There’s a girl playing the guitar and singing at the top of her voice somewhere in the balcony. This, of course is unusual for us. We never get to hear this kind of singing at a time like this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This girl has a serious problem. That’s the first thing that came to my mind. And she is really lonely plus I sense like she is so drunk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“So what now?” I said to my friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Don’t you just love it?” He was a bit dreamy. This is my friend. Sometimes he gets a little flirty with weird girls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I’m going back.” I said to him. Showing my disinterest about his amusement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“No, no, stay and listen, the best part is coming” Again, he clutched my arm, stopping me from leaving our spot at the balcony.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then the girl started sobbing while singing to her song. She was singing an English song a little while back but this next song she is sobbing with, I’m pretty sure is in Tagalog. Yes, I have a strong feeling she’s a Filipina, judging from her accent and from the lyrics of the song she’s singing that are quite familiar to me. Like, “kamay”, “wala” and other stuff. I’ve heard a lot of these words from my Filipino officemates.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are staying at the 10th floor. This girl is on top of our apartment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“She’s always like that. When she sings that song, she cries. I don’t know if that’s how that song is supposed to be sung, but honestly, I get disturbed when she does that. You know, sobbing while singing?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Can we just leave the girl be?” I said to my friend. And this time, I was the one who dragged him along with back to our room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The place I am in at this strange moment is covered with green fogs and it’s so cold. I can see smoke everywhere. I’m not quite sure where I am right now but I know I’m trying to find my way out from this vast place. But it seems like it’s going to be an unending walk. There’s no edge to this place. There’s just nowhere to go, nothing to see and maybe, even if I shout, no one’s ever gonna hear it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then there was something. From this nothingness, I was feeling something different. I hear a strange sound. I went on walking, trying to follow where the sound is coming from. I know I am not this much of an observant and keen to these strangeness, but at this desperate hour of emptiness, I know, somehow I had to do something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then I heard the sobs. I heard the weeps. It’s from a girl. These are cries that I’ve heard before. As I draw closer to the sound, the cries were starting to give me the creeps and for some reason, it gave me the spine-chills. The crying girl is just within my reach, when all of a sudden, out of nowhere, someone is shaking my shoulder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Hey, buddy, are you alright?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was dreaming. It seemed so real. I saw my friend shaking me. It was almost half past three in the morning. I told my friend I was just dreaming after he told me I was mumbling while asleep. Then I went back to sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My whole week had passed normally. Well, apart from me not going to the office anymore like what I used to do. This time, I’m connecting with friends who might be able to help me get a new job. I was going out for interviews, so it was a pretty busy week for a regular Syrian like me. In situations like this, I’ve always been pushed to the limit. And I know that I should not be wasting any of my time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have not seen my fellow Syrian roommate-friend for the week. He might also be running around with a lot of things. By the time he comes home, I’m already sleeping. We share a room together, and he has been my buddy for quite e few years now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the bizarre thing is, this dream had crept in my subconscious system every night. It’s always the same dream and always the same girl and I always hear the same melody from that dream. Strange, but I’ve been to more odd situations so I never bothered giving meaning to it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s the weekend again. My friend, whom I have not seen for the week had brought home some wine to drink. We were chatting at the balcony while sharing the wine when I thought of mentioning to her the girl we heard singing and playing the guitar the week before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Haven’t you heard? “ He said with a bit of surprise based from the expression on his face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“What?” I answered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“She tried to kill herself that same night when we heard her singing. She jumped out of their balcony. She’s not dead yet, though, but I heard she’s in coma right now.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The melody lingered in my head. I can't take it off. And then I began wondering if I'm gonna have the same dream again tonight. So I decided to drink a lot.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7713733000419917087-1001128081359609445?l=wattuduyanie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/feeds/1001128081359609445/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7713733000419917087&amp;postID=1001128081359609445&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/1001128081359609445'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/1001128081359609445'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/2009/10/ang-huling-el-bimbo.html' title='Ang Huling El Bimbo'/><author><name>Yanie's Ka-blags!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11501502004310550922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SU-VzSOLKfI/AAAAAAAAAAM/CJLGeE1rmx0/S220/girlumbrellabanner.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7713733000419917087.post-3556875072373767989</id><published>2009-10-18T21:00:00.004+04:00</published><updated>2009-11-05T17:36:35.120+04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sh**s I Made for Songs I Like'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='In ENGLISH Shiznits'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Emo-Emo'/><title type='text'>Art in Me - Jars of Clay</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Listen while reading, nothing much to watch in this video.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/EBvVOuABciU&amp;amp;hl=" fs="1&amp;amp;rel=" color1="0x234900&amp;amp;color2=" border="1" width="445" height="364" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I AM DEAD.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I have a strong feeling that I am not in heaven... &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Nor hell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am walking in this vast…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Endless place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don’t know what to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don’t know which direction to take. Everything looks the same. There is absolutely no way for me to get out of here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The place is foggy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And its really cold.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So bright. So empty and so green.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why green? I’m still trying to figure that out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I stopped walking for a while. And then I noticed this robe I’m wearing. I have never worn something like this before. And what the.. @&amp;amp;$*… Am I on ballet shoes? are these ballet shoes???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don’t remember how I died. The last thing I remember was that I was drinking. And I was singing at the top of my voice with my guitar at the balcony. But I do also remember hanging my right foot at the rail of the balcony of our 11-floor apartment building. My foot was hanging there for a while. While looking at the cars passing by below me, I was puffing a cigarette at my right hand, each and every puff, I rest my hand at my right foot, which is istill hanging at the balcony-rail. But I’m pretty sure I did not jump out of the balcony. Naah, that’s not how I died. I’m sure of it. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I went on walking, till I spotted something different from afar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13 year ago, I used to sing a song. I used to love this song even though I did not understand what it really meant. That song is playing over and over on my head right now while I draw closer to this spot. &lt;em&gt;(That's the song you are hearing now, if you clicked that media on top)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13 years ago, I badly wanted to belong to a singing band. And I was really desperate. In my desperation, I kept on memorizing songs with strong will power. I thought this was how I could get into the group. Unfortunately, the band members did not notice. They might have, somehow, but I wasn’t just good enough as the singing-material for the band.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so I started playing the guitar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got lazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I stopped.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I reached the spot. This is the only noticeable thing in this enormity. There lies, on the floor a big black book, covered with smoke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s a big black book in the midst of the spotless, whiteness of the place and the undying smoke on the floor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I’m still despising these white robes and ballet shoes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Could this be St. Peter’s book? I heard about this before. I think somehow I was awake when the preacher was teaching about heaven’s guidelines. And he mentioned something about a book that lists the names of people who can enter heaven. St Peter, guarding the heaven’s gates, looks at his book, checks out your name. If it’s there, you are in. Otherwise… Bye bye, down you go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;List of names, of people who have struggled enough on earth believing that if they follow heaven's guidelines, their names would be enlisted in this book... Which I think is in my arms right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suddenly felt excited and started flipping my hands through the pages. There is one absolute reason why this is lying here for me to see. Yes, me... I suppose, as I am alone in here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’M DEAD. And I have the book of all books.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To my surprise, there was no list.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Instead, each page contains of moving pictures, a movie-like screen that shows the lives of some people I heard before. Some of them were famous. Some of them were not. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Like Picasso for instance. I did not think this is how Picasso looked like… I did not know it was him of course, but this book is sophisticated. It must have some kind of chip embedded in it, or a bluetooth device, a sensor, that reads the questions in my mind and answers each one instantly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw how Leonardo Da Vinci lived his life. This man is boring. Never talked. Always writing, always thinking, always seating, always doing something. He had chair-sores. He couldn't stand, let alone walk because his balls got too heavy he could no longer carry them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There goes my Axel Rose. He wrote his first song while trying to burn his hand with a cigarette. He was 2 and a half years old.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some famous painters, singers, poets, dancers were in each page… Some of them I know very well, some I've never heard of in my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was frantically turning at all the pages. Hoping to see my life in there. I saw Spike West in one of the pages. He blogs a lot. He writes crazy stuff. And he writes them well. He makes his readers laugh, and sometimes cry, hate, swear. He’s good at it. He makes you feel what he feels and the fact is, he is in this big-black-sophisticated-book. But the book also depicts that he is in search of something… It did not reveal it... probably because, he has not found it yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hey! Wait a damn minute... I also blog, I write too. Sometimes I make poems, I compose songs once in a while. Where’s my page? Where’s my life? C’mon where is it in here? And I am getting frustrated as the pages go thinner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am at the last page. There’s no me. No life for me. No page for me, nothing for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why? I began to ask.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But who am I asking? Who made this book?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Am I not good enough? The book is no longer answering my questions. So I figured, its not that sophisticated after all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why not me? My questions are getting personal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is there somethng in you? I began to ask myself.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Why the f*** am I crying now? Now I'm talking to myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where’s your art? Question I keep on repeating.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Suddenly, in this huge place, a corner appeared. I let go of the book and crawled to that corner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was wailing, sobbing, weeping! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I buried my face in my knees. I can’t breathe. I was weeping like a little child who just got whipped.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;ART IN ME&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;BY Jars of Clay&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Images on the sidewalk speak of dreams decent&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Washed away by storms to graves of cynical lament&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Dirty canvases to call my own&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Protest limericks carved by the old pay phone&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;In your picture book Im trying hard to see&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Turning endless pages of this tragedy&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Sculpting every move you compose a symphony&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;You plead to everyone, see the art in me&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Broken stained-glass windows, the fragments ramble on&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Tales of broken souls, an eternitys been won&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;As critics scorn the thoughts and works of mortal man&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;My eyes are drawn to you in awe once again&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;In your picture book Im trying hard to see&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Turning endless pages of this tragedy&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Sculpting every move you compose a symphony&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;You plead to everyone, see the art in me&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7713733000419917087-3556875072373767989?l=wattuduyanie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/feeds/3556875072373767989/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7713733000419917087&amp;postID=3556875072373767989&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/3556875072373767989'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/3556875072373767989'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/2009/10/art-in-me-jars-of-clay.html' title='Art in Me - Jars of Clay'/><author><name>Yanie's Ka-blags!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11501502004310550922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SU-VzSOLKfI/AAAAAAAAAAM/CJLGeE1rmx0/S220/girlumbrellabanner.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7713733000419917087.post-5810556990676495898</id><published>2009-10-16T17:51:00.002+04:00</published><updated>2009-10-16T17:55:06.898+04:00</updated><title type='text'>Yanie Lasengga</title><content type='html'>Diko pa rin lubos maisip kung paanong ang isang tao ay magkakaroon ng paboritong iniinom na alak.  Oo taena, lasing ako ngayon (*hik*) .  At Oo, lasing na naman ako ngayon.  At isa pang Oo, alcoholic na nga ako.  Pero iniiwasan ko pa ring mag mura, (nagmumura kasi ako pag lasing) dahil alam kong maraming mga minors at immature ang nagbabasa ng blog ko (hahahahah.)  Ang tamaan at masaktan mumurahin ako sa comment section sigurado.  I don’t care.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oppps, stop ka na dito kung ang plano mo eh magbasa ng matinong post.  Dahil sinisugurado ko sayo, walang matino dito ngayon.  Pero kung pasaway ka naman na kagaya ko, sige ituloy mo lang ang pagbabasa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mabalik nga ako sa  sinasabi ko, pero saglit lang at ilalakas ko lang ang volume netong kanta na pinapakinggan ko ntgayon… Diko alam title neto, per ang lyrics ehh.  “I’ll be better when I’m older (*hik*),And tell me that we belong together, just without, stumping on together (hahaha diko alam ang lyrics).  And I’ll be your crying shoulder, I;llm be yoyr love suicide… I’ll be the greatest fan of your life”  Ayan okay na, maya maya lang basag na ang eardrums ng mga kapitbahay ko…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yun na nga… tatanungin mo ba kung anong iniinom ko ngayon?  Wala namang kwenta eh kasi ang tanong talaga jan, bakit ba umiinom ang isang tao, hindi nga ba para malasing.  Ewan ko sayo kung anong dahilan mo, pero ako eh gusto ko yung feeling ng nahihilo.  Yung umiikot ang bubungan ng bahay mo at napapabilis ang pag ta type mo ng mga sasabihin sa m,ga sinusulat mo tulad ng blog na ito.   Siyempre kapag inedit ko pa tong blog na to, di naman kayo maniniwala na lasing ako diba? Hahaha!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, ang pinaka-gusto ko sa pagiging lasing eh yung pagbibigay nito ng lakas ng loob para sabiohin lahata ng gisto mong sabihin.  mGa bagay na matagala mo nang kibnikimkim sa puso mo na dimo masabi sabi.  Ilang bses na rin aong nalasing at ilang beses na ko na ring naisiwalat lahat ng mga gusto kong sabihin sa salita at sa sulat habang lasing.  I’m sure at this point aabangan niyo na kung ano ang isang biggest thing na issisiwalat ko sa blog na to? Haha, sorry to disappoint you because that is not what this blog is about.  Sa susunpd na baileys session ko na lang siguro nyehehe. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, chardonnay,  (pronounced as shardoney), Kasi ang pint talaga nitong blog na to eh.. kung bakit kailangang magkaroon gng isang paboritong alak ang isang tao?  I hope you can enlighten me, kasi dati ang paborito ko eh san Miguel gin, tapos nabago ng tanduay, tapos naging vodka, ngayon baileys na.   Pero para sa akin kahit na ano, basta the highert he alcohol content the better the dizziness, LOL!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wala lang na miss ko na kasing mag blog kaya eto nangungulit lang.  Galit ako sa mga tao ngayon kaya ako naglalasing.  Pero para sa mga fans ko na sumusubaybay sa akin, good girl pa rin naman ako kahit papano.  (Pag tulog!, zzz, nggorrk, hik!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/2009/04/isang-lasing-na-writer-wannabe.html"&gt;cheers tayo dito pare&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7713733000419917087-5810556990676495898?l=wattuduyanie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/feeds/5810556990676495898/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7713733000419917087&amp;postID=5810556990676495898&amp;isPopup=true' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/5810556990676495898'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/5810556990676495898'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/2009/10/yanie-lasengga.html' title='Yanie Lasengga'/><author><name>Yanie's Ka-blags!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11501502004310550922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SU-VzSOLKfI/AAAAAAAAAAM/CJLGeE1rmx0/S220/girlumbrellabanner.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7713733000419917087.post-8321615109827804443</id><published>2009-10-08T19:38:00.000+04:00</published><updated>2009-10-08T19:38:00.079+04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='nag-REVIEW kasi may test bukas'/><title type='text'>You Don't Mess with the Zohan</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/Sso7bmlr0JI/AAAAAAAAAHA/dRSKlz8zhlI/s1600-h/With_the_zohan.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389185249503334546" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 269px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/Sso7bmlr0JI/AAAAAAAAAHA/dRSKlz8zhlI/s400/With_the_zohan.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The film is about Zohan Dvir (played by Adam Sandler), an Israeli army commando, who was projected in the movie as an ordinary looking man but has super powers. Yung simple lang ngunit mala Hankock ang dating ng character niya. medyo exaggerated nga lang, actually exaggerated talaga! which I think had made the movie ever funny. Ang favorite scenes ko sa pag-display ng super powers niya was when hindi siya tinatablan ng bala... I love that part when the bad guy shot him in his face tapos, isininga lang niya yung bala... he swims like a dolphin, tapos kapag nakikipag-bugbugan siya, he only uses his feet in slapping his enemies, yeah both of the feet at the same time, while chatting with another person. (Nai-imagine niyo ba? Just go and watch the movie) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sa umpisa ng movie mahaba ang kanyang buhok, pasaway at laging kita ang kanyang puwet... siya ang superhero ng mga Israelis. The nation and the army actually count on him for protection from terrorist attacks caused by their mortal enemy named Phantom (John Turturro) who was a Palestinian.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But deep inside this superheroism, Zohan has a deep secret. He always wanted to become a Hair Stylist. Yeah, like Jun Encarnacion or Ricky Reyes day! This makes me love the movie kasi, super masculine ang character ni Zohan, kinatatakutan, hinahangaan, pero ang gusto lang naman talaga niya sa buhay ay maging.... HAIR STYLIST. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyway, so sabi ni Insang &lt;a href="http://http//en.wikipedia.org/wiki/You_Don"&gt;Wiki... &lt;/a&gt;he fakes his own death and smuggles himself into a flight to New York City and takes the name "Scrappy Coco" and claims that he is "Half Australian, Half Mt. Everest". (diko napanood tong part na to ah? pero natawa ako sa nalaman kong ito)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mahaba pa ang movie, at pihado mapapahaba ang post nato kung ike-kwento ko pa lahat. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;To capitol, este to cap-it-all, BASTOS ang movie pero nakakatawa. PG18 yata yun pero favorite namin ito ng mga junakis kong 8 and 5 years old, hahaha (Bad Mommy!) Pero nakakatawa talaga siya. Eh pano ba naman hindi magiging bastos, sumikat kasi yung salon na pinagta-trabahuan niya dahil sa pagiging sex-machine niya hahahahah... Actually hindi talaga siya nakakatawa para sa mga conservative pero para sa mga taong kagaya ng mga kakilala ko....... na diko sasabihin ang pangalan at diko rin sasabihing kabibili lang niya ng 32inch na TV... eh maa-appreciate niya ang movie nato, hehehe (peace bro!) baka nga napanood na niya to eh...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At isa pa, sa serious side naman, the movie depicted the reconciliation of the Israelis and the Palestinians. America had become a place for them to find new routes in their lives and for some, like Zohan and the leading lady in the movie (I forgot her name) had lead a new life, away from the fighting and chaos from their own country. So finally at the end of the movie, nagkabati silang lahat and they lived happily ever after.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sa pagre-research ko nalaman ko na isa pala si Adam Sandler sa sumulat ng kwento nato. Kaya nga idol ko si Kuya Adam sa pagpapatawa eh, grabe!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recommended to all [Pinoy] OFW's who are in the middle east. Makakarelate tayo dun sa pagi-english nila at sa mga hitsura nung mga arabo lalo na nung nagsayaw sayaw sila kasama si Mariah Carey! Pramis nandun talaga si Mariah!  Mukhang hindi ni-release itong movie na to sa ME because of the sensitive issues.  Kung conservative ka, wag mo na lang panoorin, pero certified funny hit movie para sa kin hehehe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Happy watching kung di niyo pa napapanood, just make sure to close your one eye when you watch it! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7713733000419917087-8321615109827804443?l=wattuduyanie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/feeds/8321615109827804443/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7713733000419917087&amp;postID=8321615109827804443&amp;isPopup=true' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/8321615109827804443'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/8321615109827804443'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/2009/10/you-dont-mess-with-zohan.html' title='You Don&apos;t Mess with the Zohan'/><author><name>Yanie's Ka-blags!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11501502004310550922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SU-VzSOLKfI/AAAAAAAAAAM/CJLGeE1rmx0/S220/girlumbrellabanner.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/Sso7bmlr0JI/AAAAAAAAAHA/dRSKlz8zhlI/s72-c/With_the_zohan.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7713733000419917087.post-2822607343395518927</id><published>2009-10-06T21:17:00.014+04:00</published><updated>2009-10-18T20:00:06.521+04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Nang Lumapot ang Utak'/><title type='text'>Happy 4th Anniversary to Muwaahh!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SsuOLRaBwdI/AAAAAAAAAHY/BhI6enn2sMs/s1600-h/PICT0063.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SsuOLRaBwdI/AAAAAAAAAHY/BhI6enn2sMs/s1600-h/PICT0063.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 371px; HEIGHT: 252px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389557703381205458" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SsuOLRaBwdI/AAAAAAAAAHY/BhI6enn2sMs/s400/PICT0063.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Dito! dito ang shawarmahan!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SsuNIj5HVsI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/GwClLxVnwps/s1600-h/PICT0063.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fourth year anniversary ko na dito sa Dubai. Bago pa man ako mapahaba na naman sa mga isa’t kalahating walang kwenta kong mga sasabihin sa post na to, gusto ko munang ipaabot din ang pagbati ko sa aking dalawang kaibigan na kasabay kong nagce-celebrate ng anibersaryong ito… Si Sharon at si Reatha. Gagamitin ko na rin ang pagkakataong ito para magpasalamat sa isa ring tunay na kaibigan, si Iya, na kung hindi dahil sa kanya hindi sana kami makakarating sa lugar na ito. (Taena, di yata ako sanay mag-seryoso, I’m sure bumubulanghit na sa tawa ang tatlong ito ngayon sa ka-dramahan ko)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Little background lang po sa tatlong nagga-gandahan dilag na aking nabanggit… Sila po ay aking mga kaibigan since college. TING! (*insert lighting bulb here*) May susunod na akong topic sa blog ko hehehe. Madami na kaming napagdaanan sa buhay nitong tatlong bruhahang ito. Pero sa next blog ko na lang isasambulat lahat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kani-kanina lang nag nag-conference call kaming tatlo nina Sharon at Reatha (naks sosyal), at pinag-usapan kung anong gagawin namin sa aming 4th anniversary. Naputol na lang ang linya na wala kaming matinong napag-usapan maliban sa binebenta kong cellphone na hanggang ngayon ay hindi ko pa rin mabenta benta. Para sa mga repapips ko dito sa Dubai, (magco-commercial muna ako dito, blog ko naman to eh, kaya walang pakialamanan), binebenta ko po ang aking Nokia N97 – white, 2 weeks old…1,900dhs…, kung walang cash, ikaskasan niyo na lang ako sa inyong credit card ng gusto kong celphone at yung sobra eh i-cash niyo na lang… please see ads and posters for more details and this is DTI approved. Hehe. Reason for selling? Sa sobrang ka-cheapan ko sa buhay, di ako makapag-adjust sa isang sosyal at mamahaling celphone!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay so mabalik tayo sa aking anniversary dito sa Dubai. Pagkababa ko nga ng phone after maputol ang linya ng aming conference call, kasi naubusan yata ng load ang opisina namin… naiwan akong nagmumuni-muni kung ano nga ba ang magandang gawin para ma-celebrate ang aming anniversary. Naisip ko, simple lang naman ang gusto ko. Ang makasama ko ang tatlong pinakamatalik kong kaibigang ito , at magkwentuhan na parang apat na tao kaming hindi nagkikita kahit na ang totoo niyan eh last week lang kami nagkita kita at walang puknat na chat araw araw pa rin ang ginagawa namin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Masaya lang kasing pag-usapan at magkantyawan muli sa mga kapalpakan namin sa buhay nung mga virgin pa kami hanggang sa mapunta ang usapan namin sa kung bakit kami napadpad dito sa Dubai. Hindi ko naman ishe-share dito sa blog ko na ito na ang tunay na dahilan ng pagpunta namin dito ay dahil sinamahan lang naming magbakasyon ang aming kaibigang si Reatha to mend a broken heart dahil siyempre nakakahiya namang ipagkalat pa ang ganitong dahilan diba?. May tatlong Oo ako dito sa statement na ito.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Oo, broken hearted si Reatha kaya naisipan naming solusyonan ang problema niya dahil nauubusan na ng sleeping pills ang mga botika sa kanilang lalawigan.&lt;br /&gt;2. Oo, bakasyon lang naman ang purpose namin ni Sharon dito, kaya nga kami naka-visit visa eh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. At Oo, gumastos talaga kami ng malaki para dumamay sa aming kaibigan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Disclaimer: &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Kung kilala niyo ako, by now dapat alam niyo nang salain sa utak niyo kung alin sa mga sinasabi ko ang may katotohanan talaga &lt;strong&gt;(promise, hope to die)&lt;/strong&gt;, kasinungalingan &lt;strong&gt;(nang-ookray lang)&lt;/strong&gt;, at may bahid ng katotohanan &lt;strong&gt;(may pinaparinggan lang)&lt;/strong&gt;. Yan ang difference ng mga blogs ko sa iba (hahaha, as if it matters) , meron ako palagi ng tatlong makabuluhang blog-elements na ito. Ano nga yung elements na yun? (ay bahala ka na sa buhay mo!)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay balik tayo ulit sa anniversary. 4 years na nga kami dito. Bukod sa mga kaibigan kong ito na apat na taon ko nang inuutangan… Meron din akong ibang mga bagay na apat na taon ko pa ring kasa-kasama sa aking life-routine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Ang aking slacks na rinegalo ni Iya nung first birthday ko dito sa Dubai na hanggang ngayon ginagamit ko pa rin. Hindi naman ako nagbago ng waistline kaya okay lang. November 30, 2005. Yun ang pinaka-memorable na birthday ko dahil:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a. Binigyan ako ng mga kaibigan ko ng isang surprise birthday party&lt;br /&gt;b. Naholdap ako sa Chikka Grill&lt;br /&gt;c. First time kong mag celebrate ng birthday na out of the country.&lt;br /&gt;i. &lt;strong&gt;M&lt;/strong&gt;ixed emotions ako&lt;br /&gt;ii. &lt;strong&gt;M&lt;/strong&gt;asaya kasi kahit papano, the friends made the effort to make me happy&lt;br /&gt;iii. &lt;strong&gt;M&lt;/strong&gt;alungkot kasi 1st time away from my kids and family&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Yung colarless na long-sleeve blouse na kulay blue binigay ulit ni Iya sa akin dahil hindi na niya kasya. Na hanggang ngayon ulit ginagamit ko pa rin. At lalong hindi naman kasi lumaki ang aking b**bs kaya naman kasya ko pa rin hanggang ngayon. Nag fade na nga lang ng konti, pero kagagamit ko lang kanina. Uyy, what a coaccident este, coincident?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Ang aking MALETA na ginamit ko papuntang Dubai&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a. Ang tatak ay Polo, obviously imitation lang dahil&lt;br /&gt;b. Binili ko ito sa NOVO sa Pilipinas na memorable sa akin dahil&lt;br /&gt;c. Nakipag-away ako sa manager ng NOVO dahil ayaw nilang palitan dahil nga&lt;br /&gt;d. Sira ang kanyang lock at umabot pa kami sa&lt;br /&gt;e. DTI Office dahil nabuwisit ako sa kanila.&lt;br /&gt;f. Hanggang ngayon nasa akin pa rin, parang brand new pa rin pero linalagyan ko na lang ng mga lumang damit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Ang 100 pesos na nakaipit pa rin sa pitaka ko&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Ang aking SIM card na binigay ko sa mama ko.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Ang aking utak na lalong lumalapot habang tumatagal dito sa Dubai&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. At maraming marami pang iba. No, actually wala na akong maisip kaya wala na akong maisulat… hehe, yun lang yun!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;4 years.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; Ito na siguro yung part na e-emo na ako. Fruitful naman kahit papano pero diko naman masasabing healthy lahat ng fruits na iyon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Meron jan yung mga bungang hilaw. Hindi akma sa panahon. Mga opportunities na grinab kaagad na hindi man lang pinag-isipan ng mabuti. Gaya ng mga utang na hindi mabayaran.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Meron naman yung overriped. Mga comforts na tinatamasa, pero nakaka-umay na, nagiging boring na, kailangan na ng bagong challenge, pero dahil may mga priorities hindi pwedeng agad bitawan. Gaya ng trabahong ayaw mo, hindi mo gusto, gusto mong maghanap ng iba pero di pwede kasi may ibang umaasa…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Mga bubot na bunga. Hinhintay mong ma-hinog. Mga pangarap na hindi matupad-tupad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Mga bungang nahulog sa lupa dahil may bumato, o kundi kaya tinuka ng ibon. Mga nagawang pagkakamali. Pagtitiwalang nasira, mga relasyong nabasag, mga bungang nabulok at hindi na mapakinabangan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. At ang mga bungang tama lang sa panahon ang pagkakapitas. Mga biyaya ng magandang oportunidad na naibigay sa tamang panahon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Hayy buhay sa Dubai! &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ito ang aming laging singhal. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sa aking apat na taon, marami akong natutunan… gaya ng&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Walang kwenta ang pride. Iilan lang ang taong maaasahan mong dadamay sayo kapag nangailangan ka. Kaya kung may alitan, walang patutunguhan ang pagpapa-taasan ng pride.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Maging malakas sa lahat ng bagay. Ikaw lang ang makakapagpabuti ng iyong buhay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Maraming pwedeng utangan na bangko.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Mag-drive…. Ng kotse… Yung totoong kotse&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. You make your own destiny. (Isiningit ko lang to para naman kahit papano eh makumbinsi ko kayong may natutunan nga ako, hehehe)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Para sa iba pang natutunan ko... &lt;a href="http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/2009/05/ever-simple-lessons-i-learned-in-life.html"&gt;click there&lt;/a&gt;... sabi nang there eh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See you again next year, same time, same place, oki doki! Kasi magqu-quiz kayo okay? Enumeration!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks for reading till here! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7713733000419917087-2822607343395518927?l=wattuduyanie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/feeds/2822607343395518927/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7713733000419917087&amp;postID=2822607343395518927&amp;isPopup=true' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/2822607343395518927'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/2822607343395518927'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/2009/10/happy-4th-anniversary-to-muwaahh.html' title='Happy 4th Anniversary to Muwaahh!!!'/><author><name>Yanie's Ka-blags!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11501502004310550922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SU-VzSOLKfI/AAAAAAAAAAM/CJLGeE1rmx0/S220/girlumbrellabanner.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SsuOLRaBwdI/AAAAAAAAAHY/BhI6enn2sMs/s72-c/PICT0063.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7713733000419917087.post-493033796765799888</id><published>2009-10-05T15:44:00.004+04:00</published><updated>2009-10-05T16:25:33.732+04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ka-blog-gastugan'/><title type='text'>Update sa Paano Buraot-in si Yanie Part 2</title><content type='html'>Gusto ko sanang mag-blog ng tungkol kina Ondoy at Pepeng, pero honest, wala talaga akong maisip na sabihin. Worse, wala talaga akong maisip na isulat ngayon. Kaya... nais ko na lang bigyan ng update ang mga taong natutuwa sa blog posts ko.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Itong entry na to ay pinost ko nung 11 June 2009... Noong panahong wala rin akong maisip na i-blog. Naisip ko lang na i-post ulit but now with some updates (&lt;a href="http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/2009/06/buraot-part-2-paano-buraot-in-si-yanie.html"&gt;click mo to kung sobra kang naku-kuryus&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At eto na ang updates ng post ko na ito...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Asarin si Yanie dahil di man lang maka top-100 ang blog site niya… -&gt; &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Dina ako asar kasi tinanggal ko na ang widget na yan sa site ko kaya wa-nako-care kung number 647 parin ako sa Top Blogs.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Asarin siya ulit dahil sobrang hirap at puyat ang ginawa niya para ma-photoshop ang picture niya sa blog na ito. -&gt; &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Oo inaamin ko, malaki akong feelingera, pero it will take more than that para maasar mo ako. Kung sasabihin mong i-post ko ang totoo kong picture dito baka sakaling successful ka pa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Asarin pa lalo dahil pipito na nga lang followers niya, isa pa siya dun, haaay, kawawa naman -&gt; &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;sa sobrang effort ko sa pambobola ng ibang bloggers, dumami na ang naloko ko't napasama sa aking kulto bwwahahaha... (*insert witchy laugh here*)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Lalo pa siyang asarin at sabihing “PAPANSIN!” -&gt; &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Certified... kaya no comment&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. At para lalong bonggang bongga na ang pagka-buraot niya... tumawag sa opisina niya, pakonek sa amo at isumbong na wala siyang ginagawa. Para sa ebidensiya i-send sa amo ang link nato, mas malamang niyan magiging follower na rin siya nyehehehe... -&gt; &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Yup, wala pa rin akong ginagawa at nauubusan na ako ng maisusulat sa blog, kaya eto nagre-repost na lang ako, nyahahaha! Mala Jacque Bermejo tuloy ang magiging dating ko pag ginawa niyo yan... hahaha!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Siya nga pala... update ko lang sa case ni Ms Jacque Bermejo, kahit stale news na ito... Ibabalita ko pa rin... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Nagsalita na po ang mga ka-berks sa dubai police... &lt;a href="http://archive.gulfnews.com/articles/09/10/01/10353684.html"&gt;Maki-chismis here...&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Big time buraot talaga ang pakiramdam ni Jacque no? Anong say mo? Magsalita ka!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&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/7713733000419917087-493033796765799888?l=wattuduyanie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/feeds/493033796765799888/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7713733000419917087&amp;postID=493033796765799888&amp;isPopup=true' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/493033796765799888'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/493033796765799888'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/2009/10/update-sa-paano-buraot-in-si-yanie-part.html' title='Update sa Paano Buraot-in si Yanie Part 2'/><author><name>Yanie's Ka-blags!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11501502004310550922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SU-VzSOLKfI/AAAAAAAAAAM/CJLGeE1rmx0/S220/girlumbrellabanner.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7713733000419917087.post-5070468498858184191</id><published>2009-09-30T23:48:00.008+04:00</published><updated>2009-10-01T17:39:31.912+04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='maikling kwento'/><title type='text'>Edward</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SsSw5aItkyI/AAAAAAAAAGo/o-iv9hdj7I8/s1600-h/Edward_Cullen_by_Eldanis.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387625554556850978" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SsSw5aItkyI/AAAAAAAAAGo/o-iv9hdj7I8/s400/Edward_Cullen_by_Eldanis.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sobrang hapdi na naman ng mga mata ko. Ganito ang pakiramdam ko kapag&lt;br /&gt;1. di ako naligo&lt;br /&gt;2. nakababad sa higaan&lt;br /&gt;3. nakatingin sa kawalan&lt;br /&gt;4. galing sa iyak&lt;br /&gt;5. limang libo at dalawang beses ko nang kinutkot ang mga mata ko&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;nakatitig ako sa laptop. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;gusto kong tumayo. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;gusto kong kumalikot ng kung anu ano. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;pero pinili kong tumunganga. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;gusto ko sanang mag-isip ng wala. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;pero diko magawa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;_______&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;haaahh, ang ganda ganda mo. Diyan ka na naman sa parehong pwesto. kalkulado palagi ang galaw. same drinks. same expression... well, in fact, there's no expression in you at all. your face makes me ask about a lot of things. why are you so emotionless? Are you lonely? happy? aahhrrgghh... just vague expressionless face. mangkukulam ka ba? bat moko binibighani ng ganito? hindi ko naman gustong magtikol ngayon, pero pag nakikita kita, may kung anong bagay ang gustong kumawala?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;__________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I don't believe, you can always have the choice. may mga ibang factors kung bakit mo ginagawa ang mga bagay. and it's not always because that's what you want to do. For instance, I'm sure hindi mo choice ang maging mag-isa, pero you are alone... and you can not do anything about it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"ewan ko"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;pero ang nasa isip ko... "shit ka... ayaw kita!"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;__________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yosi...&lt;br /&gt;_________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;tatayo ka na naman. sa eksaktong oras kung kailan ko naisip na tatayo ka. pagmamasdan ko na naman ang pag pilantik ng iyong mga daliri sa pagtawag sa waiter para ibigay ang bill mo. at gaya na naman ng dati, gusto ko na ring tumayo. alalayan ka sa paglabas, tanungin ang pangalan mo... sabihin ang pangalan ko.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;kaso, nasa entablado ako. may trabaho ako... at lagi mo namang itinataon ang pag-alis kapag kumakanta ako. pwede ka namang umalis kapag si rizza ang kumakanta. bakit kailangang kapag ako... saka ka naman aalis?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;_______&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Girl:&lt;/strong&gt; Sorry but I'm not a prostitute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Good looking man:&lt;/strong&gt; Ow, I apologize&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Me:&lt;/strong&gt; Gusto mo munang mag-stay sa lobby?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;pero muntik nang mabigkas ang katagang "gusto kong ipako ka sa kama... at hindi na pakawalan sa mga bisig ko&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;_______&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nokia tune.&lt;br /&gt;May tumatawag sa celphone ko.&lt;br /&gt;Si Marie.&lt;br /&gt;Silent.&lt;br /&gt;Hinayaan kong mag-ring.&lt;br /&gt;Kinapa ko ang lapis sa ilalim ng aking unan. Hinalukay ko rin ang maliit na notebook.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;May nakasulat na:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;You are like the rose...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nabura ang &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;You are...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; pinalitan ng &lt;strong&gt;y&lt;em&gt;ou're&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; nabura ulit ang &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;you're &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Budding in a desert...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sinulatan ng &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Em&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; ang &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;like&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;blanko...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;__________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm singing this song for you. sana you will finally have the courage to voice out in melody the song you wanted her to hear... that is if she still comes back."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yumuko ako. baka kasi isipin ng mga audience na ako ang tinutukoy ni rizza.&lt;br /&gt;Pinikit pikit ang aking mata, nagwi-wish na sana pagdilat ko wala na ako sa stage.&lt;br /&gt;Naramdaman kong uminit ang aking pisngi. sobra akong nahihiya.&lt;br /&gt;By now i should already have the courage that I need. Performing in front of many people and all. Pero ayoko ng ganitong klase ng spotlight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pagbaba ni rizza sa stage, sasakalin ko siya hanggang sa maging sintunado na ang boses niya. At gaya na naman ng dati, babatukan lang ako at sasabihan ng "&lt;em&gt;torpe&lt;/em&gt;"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;______&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Girl:&lt;/strong&gt; Ows, talaga, you've been in the States?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Me:&lt;/strong&gt; Oo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Girl:&lt;/strong&gt; Anong ginawa mo dun?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Me:&lt;/strong&gt; Seaman. Naging captain ako ng GC.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Girl:&lt;/strong&gt; anong GC?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Me:&lt;/strong&gt; Garbage collection.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Girl:&lt;/strong&gt; Hahaha!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Me:&lt;/strong&gt; Pero isang buwan lang ako dun. Kasi nalaman ko na kung kapitan ka na, yun na ang pinakamataas na pwestong maabot mo. Wala ka nang pagpo-promotan. Dika naman pwedeng maging chef, or mag-iba ng linya pag nasa barko ka. Dun ka na lang. kaya umalis ako. Ayokong ma-stuck sa ganung trabaho.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Girl:&lt;/strong&gt; Artist ka naman diba? Kahit na ano ang trabaho mo, lalabas at lalabas ang dunong mo sa musika. Maaring ma-stuck ka sa kung anu anong bagay ngunit pag alam mong may isang bagay kang gustong gusto mong gawin, di yun mawawala sayo. Hindi mawawala ang passion mo sa music. Lalabas at lalabas yan kahit na full time serial killer ka pa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Me:&lt;/strong&gt; Ewan ko&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;at wala talaga akong maisagot. blanko...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;__________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nabuo na ang kanta. tumigil na si marie sa pagtawag. tumayo na ako, naghilamos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;___________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gabi gabi, inaabangan kong bumukas ang pinto at aasahang ikaw ang papasok. Ilang linggo na ang nakalipas, hindi ka pa rin bumabalik sa bar. lagi kong hanap ang mukha mo sa mga tao. Tagal na nung huling nagpunta ka. Nagsisimula na akong mag-alala.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nung isang araw, pinalitan na si rizza bilang taga-kanta. ngunit wala ka pa rin. nasaan ka na? alam mo bang hinihintay kita?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;_____&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Mahal kita.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hindi pwede."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Bakit?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Walang sagot&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;"May nangyari na sa atin"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Mahal na mahal kita matagal na"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Tanga!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;__________&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Naputol ang string ng gitara. Inabot ko sa taas ng cabinet ang spare strings. May nahulog na notebook. Pinulot ko. Binasa ko ang naka-ipit na lumang resibo. sa likod nito nakasulat ang pangalan at number mo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yien 7158478&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Marami pang papel ang naka-ipit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;___________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dumating ka sa wakas. Bakit parang ngayon nababasa ko na ang lungkot sa mukha mo? Nanatili ka sa bar ng mas matagal kesa dati. Nakaka-rami ka na rin ng iniinom na alak ngunit hindi tulad ng dati. Ngunit gaya pa rin ng dati., tumatayo ka na naman sa gitna ng kanta ko.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Itinigil ko ang pagkanta at pag-gitara... Lahat ng taong abala sa pakikipag-kwentuhan ay natahimik, tumingin sa akin. Kita ko ang tanong sa kanilang mata. "Bakit ka tumigil?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Di na ako nag-isip. Ibinaba ko ang gitara... Sa unang pagkakataon, nakakabinging katahimikan ang bumalot sa bar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hinabol kita palabas ng pinto.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Miss."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tumingin ka sa akin. Nakita ko ang ngiti mo. Umakyat ang dugo sa mukha ko.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yien" ang sabi mo, pagkatapos kong tanungin ang pangalan mo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Simula noon,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sumigla na ang mundo ko. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Pumuwesto na ang katinuan ko. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;May direksiyon na ang buhay ko. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;May tunog na ang musika ko.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;__________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hindi lahat ng bagay na gusto mo, naisip mo o napagplanuhan mo ay makukuha mo. Life is much more complicated than that. I have to go."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ewan ko"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Maalat ang luhang pumatak sa labi ko.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;___________&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nasa kamay ko na naman ang litrato mo. Iniisip ko kung itutuloy ko na naman ang pagpapa-agos ng lawa ng kalungkutan sa aking mga mata.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pikit. Mariin. Madilim. Kirot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Iniwan mo ako, kasama ng isang tuyong bulaklak. Bulaklak na inaasahan kong hahalimuyak muli kapag nagkasama na tayo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Iniwan mo ako kasama ng isang maligalig na musika. Musikang magkakaroon ng himig sa muli nating pagniniig.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nasa taas ka na. Nandito pa lamang ako.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hintayin moko, mahal ko.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Author's Note&lt;br /&gt;*Sorry, diko alam gumawa ng love story na happy ending...&lt;br /&gt;*Bella, (Dhi) Sorry din, dahil nagamit ko ang pangalan ng crush mo. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7713733000419917087-5070468498858184191?l=wattuduyanie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/feeds/5070468498858184191/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7713733000419917087&amp;postID=5070468498858184191&amp;isPopup=true' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/5070468498858184191'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/5070468498858184191'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/2009/09/edward.html' title='Edward'/><author><name>Yanie's Ka-blags!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11501502004310550922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SU-VzSOLKfI/AAAAAAAAAAM/CJLGeE1rmx0/S220/girlumbrellabanner.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SsSw5aItkyI/AAAAAAAAAGo/o-iv9hdj7I8/s72-c/Edward_Cullen_by_Eldanis.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7713733000419917087.post-4954297752861107940</id><published>2009-09-30T22:19:00.009+04:00</published><updated>2009-10-01T08:48:06.817+04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Nang Lumapot ang Utak'/><title type='text'>How did I become RELATED to Ms Jacque Bermejo?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SsOnZprbk0I/AAAAAAAAAGg/vzDgsBTDIJE/s1600-h/JACQUE+BERMEJO+1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387333638391829314" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 286px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SsOnZprbk0I/AAAAAAAAAGg/vzDgsBTDIJE/s320/JACQUE+BERMEJO+1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SsOnZewBy3I/AAAAAAAAAGY/UaPFQJxtus0/s1600-h/JACQUE+BERMEJO+3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387333635458321266" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 239px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SsOnZewBy3I/AAAAAAAAAGY/UaPFQJxtus0/s320/JACQUE+BERMEJO+3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I asked my friend just a while back kung BAD ba ako. Coz he mentioned na hindi daw siya makakapag-chat sa akin dahil nga he’s busy packing the relief goods he's going to donate to Ondoy’s victims. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Bakit parang napaka-apathetic ko? Sobra mong kina-career yan samantalang ako wala akong care-laloo? Am I such a BAD person?” &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sabi niya hindi naman daw. Malayo lang daw kasi ako kaya hindi ako masyadong affected sa mga nangyayari. Wala daw kasi akong first-hand encounter sa trahedyang nangyari kaya ganito ang pananaw ko. Or maybe dahil masyado daw akong abala sa ibang bagay kaya di ko napagtutuunan ng pansin ang mga nangyayari. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So okay, binigyan na niya ako ng excuse sa pagiging apathetic ko kahit na binabaha na ang email ko ng mga donation-drive, donate here and there... Wala kasi akong datungers ngayon kasi bayaran na naman kaya ng bahay, super ignore talaga muna ako to the maxxx… Siya siya, siyempre meron jan yung mga judgmental na magsasabing, “Wala daw pera, eh kabibili lang ng celphone?” Ahhm, sa maniwala kayo o hinde… binebenta ko napo yung celphone ko pramis… oo! Gusto mo bilhin? Sige PM me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;PERO… &lt;em&gt;haba ng explanasssiyon ano?&lt;/em&gt; Excuse nga ba talaga yon?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Gaya na ba ito ng excuse na sinabi ni Jacque Bermejo na biktima siya ng internet hacking, fraud, impersonation? Well at least at this point nasagot na ang isang tanong na bumabagbag sa kalooban ko. And that is… If she really exists. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Honestly, talagang nag-effort akong patunayan kung totoo ngang may Jacque Bermejo. Dahil lumabas na nga ang issue na hindi naman daw siya ang nagsulat ng mga ganung comments chorva. At ayan, napagalitan ako ng amo dahil sobrang bothered ako sa issue na ito, nahuli niya akong tawag nang tawag sa telepono na kausap ang mga friends ko... to try ringing Jacque’s office phone number. Pero, unfortunately, I have to give up dahil bumigay na ang babaeng sagot ng sagot sa mga tawag. Napag-alaman ko rin na hindi lang pala ako ang tumatawag. (Babae = telephone number + answering machine)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think mayroon nga talagang ipinanganak sa ganung pangalan at malakas talaga ang kutob kong nasa Dubai nga talaga siya. (Slow?) Kasi why would she bother releasing a statement on clearing whatever name she has (Grabe ang sikat niya huh?) It just means she is trying to either wash her hands over her mistake which she may not have realized to blow on to her face like this BIIGGGGGG OR maybe, &lt;strong&gt;just maybe&lt;/strong&gt;, totoo nga talagang na-hack, or bogus ang account na yun. Si Jacque ang focus muna natin ha at hindi yung kung sino ang gumagawa nun sa kanya, if ever mang totoo.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Di naman ako masyadong apathetic. Concerned naman po ako sa mga bagay bagay, hence, this blog. In fact, eto nga’t kumakalkal na ako ng mga kung anik anik na pwede kong i-donate para sa victims back from our country. Kahit na alam kong magagalit sa akin ang nanay ko at sasabihing &lt;em&gt;“Hay naku, mas marami kang kamag-anak na nangangailangan sa atin, sa kanila mo na lang ipadala yan”&lt;/em&gt; OR &lt;em&gt;“Bakit mo ipapamigay yan, akin na lang.”&lt;/em&gt; Mga ganun. Pasensiya na kayo sa nanay ko, di niya alam ang magpaka-plastik minsan. Hehehe. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyway, stow-away, going back to Jacque. After I came to convincing myself that Ms Jacque Bermejo really exists… (dina nga ako magi-english baka masita pakow) then, the gray area came into the picture. Dito nagiging white ang mga gray areas ko sa buhay. Pumasok ang mga what-if’s at kung ano ang mga benefit-of-the-doubt theory na maia-aplay ko sa situation na ito. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oo nanjan na yung nandito ako sa Dubai at baka akalain ng lahat na mata-pobre ang mga nandito. &lt;em&gt;(Hindi naman, mga dalawa lang silang kakilala kong ganun dito.)&lt;/em&gt; Siyempre, natural lang din naman na murahin natin siya, foul naman kasi talaga ang sinabi niya kahit saang anggulo mo tignan diba? Anggulo ko ba?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a point, I hope I get to it… (kasi kung hindi eh mapapahaba lang ang post na to)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ito ang one big-time &lt;strong&gt;WHAT-IF&lt;/strong&gt; and &lt;strong&gt;BENEFIT-OF-THE-DOUBT &lt;/strong&gt;application ko… &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. In this document and all internet sites, keyboard press [CTRL + H] OR [CTRL + F].&lt;br /&gt;2. Type and search for “Jacque Bermejo”&lt;br /&gt;3. REPLACE IT WITH: "Yanie" &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ngayon, palitan mo naman ang "Yanie" ng sarili mong pangalan at i-explain mo ngayon sa akin in 15,000 words, single spaced, font size 10... kung paano mo pa mababawi ang kung ano pa mang reputasyong meron ka…&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Diko kilala si Jacque. Kaya hindi ko alam kung anong gagawin niya tungkol dito. Dahil, whatever the truth is… Sirang sira na ang pangalan niya or in applying the WHAT-IF rule… AKO. Kaya ginagawa ko ito dahil paano kung sakin nangyari yun because of the doing of some sick,lowly, bastard? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so to Ms Jacque Bermejo… HUMIHINGI PO AKO NG TAWAD SA INYO. &lt;strong&gt;Honestly, sincerely, really…&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sa pagjo-join ko sa Facebook to add up in tarnishing your name. In supporting the fury of most people who were deeply distressed about your alleged Facebook comments. NGUNIT dito sana malaman mo:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1. Na minura at ni-threaten ko rin ang buhay mo&lt;br /&gt;2. Linait ko din ang mga English mo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3. Sumama ako sa mga taong itinakwil ka bilang Pilipino&lt;br /&gt;4. Totoo ako, di ako gumagamit ng manlolokong account&lt;br /&gt;5. At aaminin ko kung may mali ako. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Naniniwala kasi ako na mas pinagpapala ang mga mapagkumbaba at marunong tumanggap ng pagkakamali.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Di po ako nagmamalinis. Kasi kung magmamalinis ako, anong pinagka-iba ko kay QUOTE Jacque Bermejo UNQUOTE. Ako man kung minsan may mga complaints din sa attitude nating mga Pilipino. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sige, sabihin mo sa akin ngayon kung di mo naranasan miski minsan lang ang mga na-experience ko sa baba. Sino bang walang complaints? Diba? Eh totoo naman … lalong lalo na dito sa Dubai, na&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1. Mayayabang ang mga Pilipino. Ilang beses na ba akong nasupaladahan ng aking kapwa Pilipino sa restaurants, sa play pen areas, sa shops, dahil alam nilang kuripot ang pinoy. Hindi nagti-tip? (guilty your honor) Pag sa ibang lahi... todo sweetness and respect sa pagtawag ng "MADDAAAAMM" sabay pungay pungay ng mata at kembot ng puwet. Pero pag ako na ang kausap "Ay walang extend extend... 3 hours lang sila dito (referring to my kids)... KABAYAN... (uyy buti na lang tinawag akong Kabayan, hmmp.)&lt;br /&gt;2. Ilang beses naba akong tinignan from head to foot ng isang kapwa ko Pilipino na naga-attend sa mga seminars na panay Puti ang attendees?&lt;br /&gt;3. Inalipusta ng sarili kong Pinay na amo dahil feeling niya threat ako sa position niya (at sa boyfriend niya... yikkes)&lt;br /&gt;4. Ipinagkanulo ng katrabaho kong Pinoy sa mga amo para pagmukhaing I am incompetent with my job at siya lang ang magaling? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;5. Sinupladahan porke may kotse siyang Hyundai na 2X3?&lt;br /&gt;5. Ay naku marami pa akong complaints ano… Pero wala naman po yan kumpara sa mga complaints ko sa ibang lahi...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pero I am putting my shoes into yours, Jacque… only with the stand that &lt;strong&gt;I have a better and more humane way of conveying my frustrations to my fellowmen&lt;/strong&gt; and not demonstrate myself as a spotless, purest, sinless person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This now becomes a charge and a battle to clear your name. Sure you still can do that, why not? Write? Este Right? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And you know, seriously, I am offering my help. Meron naman akong dalawang fans sa blogsite ko na to. Pero kung dimo ako trust... these other people can PROBABLY help fight your fight. &lt;a href="http://jbsolis.blogspot.com/2009/09/dear-jacque-bermejo-please-contact.html"&gt;WE CAN HELP YOU JACQUE BERMEJO…&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, we at &lt;a href="http://thoughtsmoto.blogspot.com/"&gt;KABLOGS&lt;/a&gt; are encouraging you to show yourself now… Give us your updates. Contact us. And we can help you clear your name.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;YOUR INNOCENT NAME!&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/7713733000419917087-4954297752861107940?l=wattuduyanie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/feeds/4954297752861107940/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7713733000419917087&amp;postID=4954297752861107940&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/4954297752861107940'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/4954297752861107940'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/2009/09/how-did-i-become-related-to-ms-jacque.html' title='How did I become RELATED to Ms Jacque Bermejo?'/><author><name>Yanie's Ka-blags!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11501502004310550922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SU-VzSOLKfI/AAAAAAAAAAM/CJLGeE1rmx0/S220/girlumbrellabanner.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SsOnZprbk0I/AAAAAAAAAGg/vzDgsBTDIJE/s72-c/JACQUE+BERMEJO+1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7713733000419917087.post-1445647445145829470</id><published>2009-09-24T16:59:00.008+04:00</published><updated>2009-11-05T17:37:26.527+04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='In ENGLISH Shiznits'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Arenophile'/><title type='text'>No More Letters in the Mist</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/Sr5kZwIhaSI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/avmzmX7LF6A/s1600-h/08ecbaae0e937108.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385852597961845026" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 238px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/Sr5kZwIhaSI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/avmzmX7LF6A/s320/08ecbaae0e937108.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;Scrubbing my body filled with filth&lt;br /&gt;Water is rushing to my existence&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Rub, rub… rush&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Closing my eyes, feeling the warmth&lt;br /&gt;Emerging steam disappearing beyond&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Hush, hush… sigh&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m whirring out a cold breathe&lt;br /&gt;While the hot water scorches&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Hum, hum… whine&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Daily attempts to cleanse my life&lt;br /&gt;Squeezing grimes out of my heart&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Try, try… fail&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Steam in the mirror is covering my face&lt;br /&gt;Blurring my true traits&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Wipe, wipe, daze&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I see no more letters written in the mist&lt;br /&gt;For a day, I am clean, squeaky clean&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Squeak, squeak… scream&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Author's Note:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;There's this set of letters I always write in a mirror's mist... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;but I've already stopped doing that...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7713733000419917087-1445647445145829470?l=wattuduyanie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/feeds/1445647445145829470/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7713733000419917087&amp;postID=1445647445145829470&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/1445647445145829470'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/1445647445145829470'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/2009/09/no-more-letters-in-mist.html' title='No More Letters in the Mist'/><author><name>Yanie's Ka-blags!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11501502004310550922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SU-VzSOLKfI/AAAAAAAAAAM/CJLGeE1rmx0/S220/girlumbrellabanner.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/Sr5kZwIhaSI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/avmzmX7LF6A/s72-c/08ecbaae0e937108.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7713733000419917087.post-1818219346320622925</id><published>2009-09-22T13:36:00.002+04:00</published><updated>2009-11-05T17:38:06.760+04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='In ENGLISH Shiznits'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Arenophile'/><title type='text'>Jumeirah Open Beach</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SrdJVZ4dnOI/AAAAAAAAAGI/8VwLJGj_jW0/s1600-h/CIMG1954.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5383852511618505954" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SrdJVZ4dnOI/AAAAAAAAAGI/8VwLJGj_jW0/s400/CIMG1954.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;Pag nalulungkot - dito kumukulangot&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:16;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; TEXT-ALIGN: center; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Georgia','serif'; mso-fareast-: font-family:'Times New Roman';font-size:12;"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Walking in the same soggy sands&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="mso-fareast-Times: ;font-family:'Times New Roman','serif';font-size:12;"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;?xml:namespace prefix = o /&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; TEXT-ALIGN: center; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Georgia','serif'; mso-fareast-: font-family:'Times New Roman';font-size:12;"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Chilly… cold… clammy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="mso-fareast-Times: ;font-family:'Times New Roman','serif';font-size:12;"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; TEXT-ALIGN: center; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Georgia','serif'; mso-fareast-: font-family:'Times New Roman';font-size:12;"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Confronting the same crowd&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="mso-fareast-Times: ;font-family:'Times New Roman','serif';font-size:12;"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; TEXT-ALIGN: center; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Georgia','serif'; mso-fareast-: font-family:'Times New Roman';font-size:12;"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;But not the same faces&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="mso-fareast-Times: ;font-family:'Times New Roman','serif';font-size:12;"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; TEXT-ALIGN: center; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto" align="center"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; TEXT-ALIGN: center; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Georgia','serif'; mso-fareast-: font-family:'Times New Roman';font-size:12;"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Heading to the same place&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="mso-fareast-Times: ;font-family:'Times New Roman','serif';font-size:12;"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; TEXT-ALIGN: center; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Georgia','serif'; mso-fareast-: font-family:'Times New Roman';font-size:12;"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Cul de sac, round, blazing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="mso-fareast-Times: ;font-family:'Times New Roman','serif';font-size:12;"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; TEXT-ALIGN: center; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Georgia','serif'; mso-fareast-: font-family:'Times New Roman';font-size:12;"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Pockets have those same small hands&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="mso-fareast-Times: ;font-family:'Times New Roman','serif';font-size:12;"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; TEXT-ALIGN: center; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Georgia','serif'; mso-fareast-: font-family:'Times New Roman';font-size:12;"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;But walking not with the same pair of feet&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="mso-fareast-Times: ;font-family:'Times New Roman','serif';font-size:12;"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; TEXT-ALIGN: center; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto" align="center"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; TEXT-ALIGN: center; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Georgia','serif'; mso-fareast-: font-family:'Times New Roman';font-size:12;"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Looking at the same blue sea&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="mso-fareast-Times: ;font-family:'Times New Roman','serif';font-size:12;"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; TEXT-ALIGN: center; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Georgia','serif'; mso-fareast-: font-family:'Times New Roman';font-size:12;"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Vigorous, forceful, inviting&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="mso-fareast-Times: ;font-family:'Times New Roman','serif';font-size:12;"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; TEXT-ALIGN: center; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Georgia','serif'; mso-fareast-: font-family:'Times New Roman';font-size:12;"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Seating at the same old spot&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="mso-fareast-Times: ;font-family:'Times New Roman','serif';font-size:12;"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; TEXT-ALIGN: center; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Georgia','serif'; mso-fareast-: font-family:'Times New Roman';font-size:12;"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;But not with the same zeal&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="mso-fareast-Times: ;font-family:'Times New Roman','serif';font-size:12;"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; TEXT-ALIGN: center; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto" align="center"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; TEXT-ALIGN: center; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Georgia','serif'; mso-fareast-: font-family:'Times New Roman';font-size:12;"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Watching with the same needy eyes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="mso-fareast-Times: ;font-family:'Times New Roman','serif';font-size:12;"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; TEXT-ALIGN: center; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Georgia','serif'; mso-fareast-: font-family:'Times New Roman';font-size:12;"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Deep, contemplating, sensing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="mso-fareast-Times: ;font-family:'Times New Roman','serif';font-size:12;"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; TEXT-ALIGN: center; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Georgia','serif'; mso-fareast-: font-family:'Times New Roman';font-size:12;"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Writing using the same thoughts&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="mso-fareast-Times: ;font-family:'Times New Roman','serif';font-size:12;"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; TEXT-ALIGN: center; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Georgia','serif'; mso-fareast-: font-family:'Times New Roman';font-size:12;"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;But no longer the same theme&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="mso-fareast-Times: ;font-family:'Times New Roman','serif';font-size:12;"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; TEXT-ALIGN: center; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto" align="center"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; TEXT-ALIGN: center; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Georgia','serif'; mso-fareast-: font-family:'Times New Roman';font-size:12;"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Going against the same wind&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="mso-fareast-Times: ;font-family:'Times New Roman','serif';font-size:12;"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; TEXT-ALIGN: center; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Georgia','serif'; mso-fareast-: font-family:'Times New Roman';font-size:12;"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Humid, hurting, melting&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="mso-fareast-Times: ;font-family:'Times New Roman','serif';font-size:12;"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; TEXT-ALIGN: center; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Georgia','serif'; mso-fareast-: font-family:'Times New Roman';font-size:12;"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Counting the same rocks&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="mso-fareast-Times: ;font-family:'Times New Roman','serif';font-size:12;"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; TEXT-ALIGN: center; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Georgia','serif'; mso-fareast-: font-family:'Times New Roman';font-size:12;"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;No longer of same strength&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="mso-fareast-Times: ;font-family:'Times New Roman','serif';font-size:12;"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; TEXT-ALIGN: center; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto" align="center"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; TEXT-ALIGN: center; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Georgia','serif'; mso-fareast-: font-family:'Times New Roman';font-size:12;"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Taming the same wild soul&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="mso-fareast-Times: ;font-family:'Times New Roman','serif';font-size:12;"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; TEXT-ALIGN: center; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Georgia','serif'; mso-fareast-: font-family:'Times New Roman';font-size:12;"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Fierce, Shouting, stern&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="mso-fareast-Times: ;font-family:'Times New Roman','serif';font-size:12;"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; TEXT-ALIGN: center; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Georgia','serif'; mso-fareast-: font-family:'Times New Roman';font-size:12;"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Painting the same feelings&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="mso-fareast-Times: ;font-family:'Times New Roman','serif';font-size:12;"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; TEXT-ALIGN: center; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Georgia','serif'; mso-fareast-: font-family:'Times New Roman';font-size:12;"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;But not emerging as beautiful as it used to be&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="mso-fareast-Times: ;font-family:'Times New Roman','serif';font-size:12;"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; TEXT-ALIGN: center; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto" align="center"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; TEXT-ALIGN: center; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Georgia','serif'; mso-fareast-: font-family:'Times New Roman';font-size:12;"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Wondering if it was the same old me…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="mso-fareast-Times: ;font-family:'Times New Roman','serif';font-size:12;"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; TEXT-ALIGN: center; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Georgia','serif'; mso-fareast-: font-family:'Times New Roman';font-size:12;"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Walking, thinking, looking&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="mso-fareast-Times: ;font-family:'Times New Roman','serif';font-size:12;"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; TEXT-ALIGN: center; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Georgia','serif'; mso-fareast-: font-family:'Times New Roman';font-size:12;"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Because certainly it was not the same you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="mso-fareast-Times: ;font-family:'Times New Roman','serif';font-size:12;"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; TEXT-ALIGN: center; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Georgia','serif'; mso-fareast-: font-family:'Times New Roman';font-size:12;"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;And definitely looking, not at the same old view&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="mso-fareast-Times: ;font-family:'Times New Roman','serif';font-size:12;color:black;"   &gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; TEXT-ALIGN: center; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto" align="center"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;September 19, 2009&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; TEXT-ALIGN: left" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; TEXT-ALIGN: left" align="center"&gt;*Author's Note: This picture was taken 3 years ago. This poem was written 3 days ago and the view has changed radically. I will have to go back there one of these days to take a more updated pic. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&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/7713733000419917087-1818219346320622925?l=wattuduyanie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/feeds/1818219346320622925/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7713733000419917087&amp;postID=1818219346320622925&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/1818219346320622925'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/1818219346320622925'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/2009/09/jumeirah-open-beach.html' title='Jumeirah Open Beach'/><author><name>Yanie's Ka-blags!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11501502004310550922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SU-VzSOLKfI/AAAAAAAAAAM/CJLGeE1rmx0/S220/girlumbrellabanner.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SrdJVZ4dnOI/AAAAAAAAAGI/8VwLJGj_jW0/s72-c/CIMG1954.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7713733000419917087.post-1684517477584744095</id><published>2009-09-07T13:40:00.003+04:00</published><updated>2009-10-01T08:44:45.495+04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ka-blog-gastugan'/><title type='text'>Na-Possess ako ni Oprah</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://img.wonkette.com/assets/resources/2008/01/oprah.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://img.wonkette.com/assets/resources/2008/01/oprah.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; mso-line-height-alt: 14.4pt"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-size:100%;color:#663366;"&gt;Minsan natanong sa akin ng mga taong kapwa ko walang magawa sa buhay kung kilala ko daw ang sarili ko. Nosebleed ako sa tanong na yun hah!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;?xml:namespace prefix = o /&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; mso-line-height-alt: 14.4pt"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#663366;"&gt;Ang sagot ko, malamang sa oo. Although may mga pagkakataon na nalilito ako sa mga bagay-bagay pero most of the time lalo na kapag lasing ako… alam ko ang mga reactions ko sa mga situations na dadating sa buhay ko. Alam ko rin usually kung paano ko sosolusyonan ang &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;mga&lt;/span&gt; ka-shitan ko sa buhay. Pero I must admit na di naman ako perpekto &lt;/span&gt;&lt;s&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#663366;"&gt;kahit na bonggang bonggang retoke na ang pinagawa ko sa mukha ko’t pangangatawan&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/s&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#663366;"&gt;, dipa rin naman ako flawless no… Ang masama nga niyan feeling ko lagi pa rin akong sablay kahit alam kong lagi akong nag re-reflect sa buhay. Yes sister and brother, lahat naman tayo siguro pumapalpak sa buhay. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; mso-line-height-alt: 14.4pt"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-size:100%;color:#663366;"&gt;Kaso lang, masyado naman na siguro akong MAYABANG kung sasabihin ko na alam ko ang mga bagay na dapat ituwid sa buhay ko. Kasi ang tanong talaga diyan ay “Alam ko nga, naitutuwid ko naman ba?” &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; mso-line-height-alt: 14.4pt"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-size:100%;color:#663366;"&gt;Malamang sa hinde… kasi dahil kilala ko nga ang sarili ko… I know that it would take some time bago ko mailagay sa kukote ko na diko na dapat ulitin pa ang mga kapalpakang iyon.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; mso-line-height-alt: 14.4pt"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="TEXT-DECORATION: none;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;a href="http://wplay.wordpress.com/2008/05/01/nurturing-good-habits-should-be-a-habit/"&gt;21 Days.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#663366;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#663366;"&gt;You have to do something consistently for a minimum of 21 days before it becomes a habit.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#663366;"&gt; Narinig ko na to noon. Diko pa nata-try ito, seriously. There must be 2 reasons why this is difficult for me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; mso-line-height-alt: 14.4pt"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-size:100%;color:#663366;"&gt;Una, alam kong tamad akong tao and I wouldn’t last 21 minutes to change something in my routine. Example… mag toothbrush… (example lang yan okay?) Before the deed, I would of course think about it… and dahil kilala ko na ang sarili ko na I would definitely drop that idea, I wouldn’t even try picking up my big butt to head to the bathroom… UNLESS a friend tells me that my breathe already stinks which brings me to point number 2.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; mso-line-height-alt: 14.4pt"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#663366;"&gt;I am very &lt;/span&gt;&lt;s&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#663366;"&gt;un&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/s&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#663366;"&gt;fortunate to have the nicest friends. They could never tell me my breathe stinks kasi they don’t want to hurt my feelings. Ang nice nila supperr. Anyway, ano ba talaga ang tinutumbok nitong ka-blog-gastugang ito? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; mso-line-height-alt: 14.4pt"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-size:100%;color:#663366;"&gt;Ang tanong dito really is… Kayo ba, naiinis ba kayo sa akin? May mga habits ba ako na kinaiinisan niyo at dahil sobra kayong mabait hindi niyo masabi-sabi sa akin? Open naman ako sa mga corrections, kaya lang this correction has to be artistically said para di ako masaktan. (Siyempre may “kaya lang” dun noh?) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; mso-line-height-alt: 14.4pt"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-size:100%;color:#663366;"&gt;Seriously, kahit na gaano ka-ganda ang pagkakasabi mo sa isang tao na mabaho ang ngala ngala niya… pagtalikod niya, masama pa rin ang loob niya sayo, diba? eh bakit nga naman? Simple, because the truth hurts… Kampante siya sa pagiging bad breathe niya eh, pakialam niyo ba? Meganung mga bagay. Bakit ba itong bad breathe pa na to ang ginawa kong example haay!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; mso-line-height-alt: 14.4pt"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-size:100%;color:#663366;"&gt;Pero di naman talaga ito ang point ko… &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; mso-line-height-alt: 14.4pt"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-size:100%;color:#663366;"&gt;Lahat tayo may mga kinaiinisang tao. Ang attitude ko towards that… kapag diko friend, deadma! At i-chismis sa mga friend ng bonggang bongga (hahaha, uyy joke lang). Kapag friend ko naman, hindi ako maiinis, pero definitely, he/she will have a piece of my mind. Alam kasi ng mga friends ko, (fortunately) na sino ba naman ang magsasabi sa kanila ng hindi magandang pag-uugali nila kundi mga kaibigan nilang malapit sa kanila diba?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; mso-line-height-alt: 14.4pt"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-size:100%;color:#663366;"&gt;Isa pang attitude ko kapag naiinis ako sa isang tao, lagi akong may benefit-of-the-doubt about that person. Like, kung kagaya niyo ako mag-isip, iisipin kong, siguro may gum disease lang yung tao, and maybe singawin talaga siya kaya bihira kung mag-toothbrush kasi masakit nga naman kapag laging nadudukdok ang singaw sa tutbras. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; mso-line-height-alt: 14.4pt"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-size:100%;color:#663366;"&gt;Pinipiplit kong intindihin kung bakit ganun ang isang tao. Laging may mga tanong na “Aware kaya siya sa ginagawa niya?” “Alam kaya niyang nakakainis na siya?”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; mso-line-height-alt: 14.4pt"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-size:100%;color:#663366;"&gt;Kaya ang point ko talaga is this (ito pa lang ang point mo talaga hah?)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; mso-line-height-alt: 14.4pt"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-size:100%;color:#663366;"&gt;I believe you will become a better person kapag may mga kaibigan kang nagchi-chismis ng mga bagay na di nila kayang sabihin sayo. This way kasi, nagiging habit na sa kanila ang sabihin ang isang bagay na hindi maganda. And then eventually, after 21 days na pinag-uusapan ka, nagiging artistic na ang pagsasabi nila ng hindi magandang ugali mo later, kaya hindi ka na masyadong masasaktan. Ito yung klase ng mga kaibigan na kapag may problema ka , sasabihin nila sayo ang ayaw mong marinig. Masakit pero it saves you from humiliation from other people who are not your friends. Like for example… (utang na loob tigilan na ang bad breathe na issue) kapag ang boses mo eh hindi na kanais nais sa pandinig sa tuwing may videoke session or kapag sobra ka nang epal sa harapan nang ibang tao na talaga namang tornado na ang kaeeklabu mo… mabuti yung may kaibigan kang nagsasabi na… “namanhid ang tenga ko sayo ha, please lang kalimutan mo na ang pangarap mong maging singer” Or “uy hindi halata sayo na mayaman ka kaya tigilan mo na ang pagpapanggap mong sosyal ka, mas bagay sayo ang mag-inarteng hampas lupa, pramis!”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; mso-line-height-alt: 14.4pt"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#663366;"&gt;Or kung naririndi ka na sa kada-drama ng friend mo tungkol sa mga kalalakihan niya sa buhay kaya mong sabihin ang mga advise na ganito… &lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#663366;"&gt;“Sister, lika dito at tulungan mo akong magpakamatay para matigil na ang kalbaryo ko sa kadramahan mo sobra sobra na ang stress na naidudulot mo kaya mahiya ka naman sa akin dahil hoy, hindi naman kaguwapuhan yang jowa mo para pag-aksayahan mo ng brain cells idagdag mo pa na isa siyang big-waste of tear ducts (whatever)”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#663366;"&gt; Pero sasabihin mo yan ng mabilis na mabilis… sige go balik ka ulit dun sa naka-italics and this time bilisan mo ang pagbasa nang hindi humihinga okay, at wag kalimutan ang smiles habang sinasabi mo to para kahit na imbiyerna ka na eh tatanggapin pa rin niya ang mga words of wisdom mo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; mso-line-height-alt: 14.4pt"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-size:100%;color:#663366;"&gt;But the bigger question there is (sasabunutan na kita, dipa ba tapos ang mga questions mo sa sarili mo???)… &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; mso-line-height-alt: 14.4pt"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-size:100%;color:#663366;"&gt;Paano kung dimo siya friend? Paano kung friend lang siya ng friend mo at palagi siyang kasama kapag may lakad kayo? Paano mo maiiwasan ang humahagupit na bagyo kapag nag-uusap kayo (tigilan na sabi ang bad breathe issue eh!) At hindi mo na talaga matiis ang ka-epalan at kadramahan niya sa buhay? Ia-applay mo pa rin ba ang 1) 21-day rule sa kanya? O ang 2) benefit-of-the-doubt rule kaya? 3) Maaawa ka ba sa taong ito dahil alam mong wala siyang kaibigan na magsasabi sa kanya na hindi na talaga pumapatok ang ka-eklatan niya sa ibang tao? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; mso-line-height-alt: 14.4pt"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-size:100%;color:#663366;"&gt;Tsk, knowing myself, dun ako sa number 3). What turns me off lang kasi talaga eh yung mga taong plastic at sosyal dahil siguro di ako ganun eh. Bonggang bonggang bakya at baduy akong tao and the major reason behind this is because kinatatamaran ko ang magpa-impress. Malaking effort kaya yun? Kaya kapag may mga taong super pa-impress sa ibang tao, naaawa talaga ako sa kanya.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; mso-line-height-alt: 14.4pt"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-size:100%;color:#663366;"&gt;Awa naman ng Diyos may mga taong tanggap ako bilang ako. Yun nga lang di sila bakya katulad ko. Mas BAKYA pa sila sa akin hahaha! Oo’t magkakapikunan pero walang taniman ng sama ng loob. Magkaka-listahan ng ka-utangan pero at least walang payabangan… walang inggitan… walang plastican… Listahan lang ng mga birthday ang pinanghahawakan, at listahan ng mga mabubuting bagay na nagawa sa isa’t isa. Para sa akin yun ang tunay na ipagmamayabang. Mapalad ako dahil sa dami ng kapalpakan ko sa buhay, sa mga kaibigan ako hindi pumalpak. Kaibigang nagsasabing marami na akong balakubak kaya need ko nang magpa-parlor ulit… haay!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7713733000419917087-1684517477584744095?l=wattuduyanie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/feeds/1684517477584744095/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7713733000419917087&amp;postID=1684517477584744095&amp;isPopup=true' title='18 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/1684517477584744095'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/1684517477584744095'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/2009/09/na-possess-ako-ni-oprah.html' title='Na-Possess ako ni Oprah'/><author><name>Yanie's Ka-blags!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11501502004310550922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SU-VzSOLKfI/AAAAAAAAAAM/CJLGeE1rmx0/S220/girlumbrellabanner.jpg'/></author><thr:total>18</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7713733000419917087.post-3253303626644342096</id><published>2009-09-06T16:14:00.005+04:00</published><updated>2009-09-19T23:36:08.231+04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ala Lang'/><title type='text'>One day...</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://studiohousepro.co.uk/fugitiveauthor/assets/images/Old-lady-on-doorstep-with-cigar.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;One day, long, long ago, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;there lived a woman &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;who did not whine, nag, or bitch.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://studiohousepro.co.uk/fugitiveauthor/assets/images/Old-lady-on-doorstep-with-cigar.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 438px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 270px" alt="" src="http://studiohousepro.co.uk/fugitiveauthor/assets/images/Old-lady-on-doorstep-with-cigar.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;But it was a long time ago, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&amp;amp; it was just that one day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7713733000419917087-3253303626644342096?l=wattuduyanie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/feeds/3253303626644342096/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7713733000419917087&amp;postID=3253303626644342096&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/3253303626644342096'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/3253303626644342096'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/2009/09/one-day.html' title='One day...'/><author><name>Yanie's Ka-blags!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11501502004310550922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SU-VzSOLKfI/AAAAAAAAAAM/CJLGeE1rmx0/S220/girlumbrellabanner.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7713733000419917087.post-5573073767630577048</id><published>2009-09-01T22:15:00.004+04:00</published><updated>2009-09-02T09:20:26.031+04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Emo-Emo'/><title type='text'>I Did Not Waste Palawan</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/Sp3_32HaiYI/AAAAAAAAAFo/4izpxzSxAVQ/s1600-h/CIMG8605.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/Sp3_3fgwBxI/AAAAAAAAAFg/XB91CUAHWyw/s1600-h/CIMG8570.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376734858966992658" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 209px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 314px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/Sp3_3fgwBxI/AAAAAAAAAFg/XB91CUAHWyw/s320/CIMG8570.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/Sp3_3NMIBaI/AAAAAAAAAFY/tZbQJg4qPTE/s1600-h/CIMG8554.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376734854048646562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 209px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 314px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/Sp3_3NMIBaI/AAAAAAAAAFY/tZbQJg4qPTE/s320/CIMG8554.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/Sp3_2pHnuWI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/tKljs9JqOGY/s1600-h/CIMG8588.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376734844366076258" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 213px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/Sp3_2pHnuWI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/tKljs9JqOGY/s320/CIMG8588.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/Sp1qJAfYqsI/AAAAAAAAAFI/YqaINNElyiQ/s1600-h/CIMG8553.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376570233133247170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 266px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/Sp1qJAfYqsI/AAAAAAAAAFI/YqaINNElyiQ/s400/CIMG8553.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;!!! Beware, this is an EMO Post&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Written 7 July 2009&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone connotes depression with being alone. Somehow I feel like it’s becoming a universal equation. Like that of Einstein’s Law of Relativity? (E=mc¬2) … Alone = Loneliness + Depression. I almost believed that this is true because I always thought that depression is a consequence of being alone. You may mix and match the formula, you still end up alone and depressed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someone said I wasted Palawan. He said that, because I went to Palawan alone. I dared to defy the certain. I was alone, yes… but I wasn’t depressed. I was lonely, yes… but I wasn't depressed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Palawan is a very wonderful and amazing paradise and it won’t go on wasted even for loners like me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone will get lonely at some point. And some will get depressed for being lonely. Not all loners are lonely, I’ve never been a loner… and that made the difference.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is what you call enjoying loneliness… and I did that by going to Palawan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*1st Stage: Denial&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&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/7713733000419917087-5573073767630577048?l=wattuduyanie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/feeds/5573073767630577048/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7713733000419917087&amp;postID=5573073767630577048&amp;isPopup=true' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/5573073767630577048'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/5573073767630577048'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/2009/09/i-did-not-waste-palawan.html' title='I Did Not Waste Palawan'/><author><name>Yanie's Ka-blags!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11501502004310550922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SU-VzSOLKfI/AAAAAAAAAAM/CJLGeE1rmx0/S220/girlumbrellabanner.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/Sp3_3fgwBxI/AAAAAAAAAFg/XB91CUAHWyw/s72-c/CIMG8570.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7713733000419917087.post-5785370084604716580</id><published>2009-08-27T13:43:00.006+04:00</published><updated>2009-10-01T08:46:09.648+04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ala Lang'/><title type='text'>Isa't Kalahating Galit at Walang Magawa</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Kanino ka ba galit? Siguro galit ka sa nanay mo.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Hinde!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Siguro sa tatay mo.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Hinde!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Pabulong* &lt;em&gt;Siguro sa mga kapatid niya siya galit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sa uncle mo ba ikaw galit, sa mga kamag-anak mo? Eh baka naman sa amin ka galit? Nagagalit ka ba sa amin?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;HHHIIIINNNNDDDEEEEEEEEEE!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sumigaw siya. Ginamit ang lahat ng kanyang super power sa pagsigaw. Halos maputol ang kanyang litid. Lahat ng ugat sa kanyang leeg, noo at braso ay lumaki na parang ugat ng balete tree. Nagmukha siyang si incredible hulk, lumaki ang kanyang katawan at naging mala-halimaw ang kanyang mukha. Dahil sa energy na ito na nagmula sa kanyang poot at pagkamuhi sumabog ang lupa sa gitna ng magkakaibigang nakaupo sa malalaking bato sa gilid ng bundok. Kumawala ang usok mula sa loob ng lupa papunta sa kalawakan. Parang bulkan. Parang high-powered steam machine na nagbe-breakdown. Matagal bago nawala ang mga usok, matagal bago nawala ang pamumula ng kanyang mukha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nang mawala na ang usok, at nang bumalik na ang kanyang tunay na anyo, tatlong pares ng mga mata ang nakatuon sa kanya. Tahimik, walang nagsasalita.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Galit ako sa sarili ko. Kasi hindi ko ito maintindihan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At tumulo na ang kanyang luha, lumuhod at tinakpan ng kanyang mga palad ang kanyang mukha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sa kauna-unahang pagkakataon, sa harapan ng kanyang mga kaibigan, hindi niya pinigilan ang iyak nang hindi nahihiya.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Binasag ng isang kaibigan ang mahabang katahimikan&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Potah ka pare ang baho… Hhmmpppfftt! &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At isa isa silang nagtakbuhan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Gusto ko sanang mag-emo pero diko kaya. August pa lang eh sa September na lang...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7713733000419917087-5785370084604716580?l=wattuduyanie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/feeds/5785370084604716580/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7713733000419917087&amp;postID=5785370084604716580&amp;isPopup=true' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/5785370084604716580'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/5785370084604716580'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/2009/08/isat-kalahating-galit-at-walang-magawa.html' title='Isa&apos;t Kalahating Galit at Walang Magawa'/><author><name>Yanie's Ka-blags!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11501502004310550922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SU-VzSOLKfI/AAAAAAAAAAM/CJLGeE1rmx0/S220/girlumbrellabanner.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7713733000419917087.post-8709838073961295327</id><published>2009-08-25T12:10:00.005+04:00</published><updated>2009-08-25T12:30:56.614+04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ala Lang'/><title type='text'>BAG</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SpOflA3mNqI/AAAAAAAAAFA/HOeOxHd_OHI/s1600-h/bag-cropped.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5373814238620300962" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 209px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SpOflA3mNqI/AAAAAAAAAFA/HOeOxHd_OHI/s400/bag-cropped.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m trying to clean up my bag today. At the moment, while typing this, the stuff are all scattered at my office desk. I’m just so fed up having to spend about 15 minutes looking for what I need.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My boss even once asked if I am going off to a sleep over party coz my bag is a lot bigger than me. A colleague also asked if I’m travelling somewhere after office. All my friends even used to tease me why do I need to go to the gym? (yeah go figure!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so used to having a huge bag, really. Maybe coz I just hate the feeling of forgetting something so if it’s possible to stuff ‘em all up in my bag, I will. Problem is, I never remember to take them off when I don’t need ‘em anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what the h***’s in my bag anyway… alright, let’s disclose them together. As I list them here, I am putting them all back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. My son’s Phono Drill book &amp;amp; Happy Holidays homework booklet – I had this in the bag when their vacation started, that was a couple of months ago when I was told to research something for his homework. I haven’t done it till now, obviously.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. An improvised organizer – I used this to list down my itinerary when I went home to the Philippines and that was last June. It’s the size of a regular notebook. (I’m keeping this at my office desk now)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. My 2009 Diary – can’t leave the house without it. Not to mention all the bits and pieces inserted in it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Tuesdays with Morrie book – I haven’t finished it. I don’t know why.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Kapitan Sino book by Bob Ong– I’m reading this right now&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Brida book by Paulo Coehlo - I was supposed to give it to &lt;a href="http://reyastone.blogspot.com/"&gt;Ms Rhea Stone &lt;/a&gt;as a birthday present, but have not seen her yet. Her birthday was last 16 August.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. My perfume&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. A set of guitar strings&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. 1 spread of Immodium&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. 1 box of Ciprobay medicine&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. 1 box of Flagyl medicine&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. 1 box of Mallox medicine&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. 1 spread of Alaxan medicine&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14. A comb&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15. My wallet&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16. An eyeglass case, the eyeglass itself is not inside, it’s in some place I don’t know&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17. A package of credit card kit, that I availed 3 months ago&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18. Lipstick&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19. House key&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20. Etisalat card for my internet&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21. Hand sanitizer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;22. A live snake (hehe, joke)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;23. Ladycare – lady wipes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;24. Stapler – the big one, hahahah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;25. Car keys – which I used to spend 10 minutes to locate&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;26. Celphone – yeah… 15 minutes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;27. A highlighter&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;28. A pen&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;29. My electricity and water bill (DEWA)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;30. A lotion&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;31. 5 dirham coins&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;32. A voucher from the bank&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;33. A CD – contents of which is of that networking company I am still ignoring&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;34. A paper clip&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;35. A book mark&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;36. A plastic bag in case I puke somewhere&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;37. Print outs of some stories from the internet I like to read&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;38. A calculator&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;39. A pack of post-it notes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;40. My lap top (hehe, joke ulet)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yup, I am a walking library, pharmacy and an office. Anyone wants anything? Ask me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And oh yeah, by the way, my lunch is also in the bag… Don't ask for that plz...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wanna tag someone in this blog. But you go ahead and tag yourself if you feel like doing this too! Go and share what you have in your bag! And spread the craziness!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7713733000419917087-8709838073961295327?l=wattuduyanie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/feeds/8709838073961295327/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7713733000419917087&amp;postID=8709838073961295327&amp;isPopup=true' title='24 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/8709838073961295327'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/8709838073961295327'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/2009/08/im-trying-to-clean-up-my-bag-today.html' title='BAG'/><author><name>Yanie's Ka-blags!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11501502004310550922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SU-VzSOLKfI/AAAAAAAAAAM/CJLGeE1rmx0/S220/girlumbrellabanner.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SpOflA3mNqI/AAAAAAAAAFA/HOeOxHd_OHI/s72-c/bag-cropped.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>24</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7713733000419917087.post-5277613126168040060</id><published>2009-08-23T17:43:00.013+04:00</published><updated>2009-08-23T22:05:17.344+04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ka-blog-gastugan'/><title type='text'>The Next Dubai Supermodel ..... Yanie!</title><content type='html'>Nag-text sa akin si A nung isang araw. Nami-miss na daw niya ako. Bakit daw diko na siya dinadalaw. Nakiki-usap siya na dalawin ko naman daw siya…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sumagot naman ako… Sabi ko everytime na titingin ako sa salamin, magsusuklay, maglalagay ng lotion, magpapalit papuntang opisina, siya ang laging nasa isip ko. Araw araw yun walang paltos. Pero kako, dipa muna ako makakadalaw dahil wala pa akong oras, masyado kasing busy ang schedule ko sa mga shootings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isang minute pagkatapos kong i-send ang text tumawag kaagad siya sa akin. Ayun nga nangangamusta kasi halos six months na rin nang huli kaming magkita at sobrang miss na miss na nga daw ako. Inulit ko naman ang mga sinabi ko sa text.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Hanukaba, lika na lang dito dali. Gusto lang talaga kitang makita at alam mo na, mapagsilbihan kahit papano. Nami-miss na rin kasi talaga kita.” Sabi niya.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“O siya sige, mahirap naman kung tatanggihan kita, namimilit ka eh” Sagot ko na lang.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ang sarap namang pakinggan ang mga ganitong kataga galing sa mga kaibigan. May mga handang ibuwis ang kanilang buhay para lang makasama ka.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ziiiitttt (rewind)... eto talaga ang totoong kwento jan…&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nag-text sa akin si A nung isang araw. Nami-miss na daw niya ako. Bakit daw diko na siya dinadalaw. Nakiki-usap siya na dalawin ko naman daw siya…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sumagot naman ako… Sabi ko everytime na titingin ako sa salamin, magsusuklay, maglalagay ng lotion, magpapalit papuntang opisina, siya ang laging nasa isip ko. Araw araw yun walang paltos. Pero kako, dipa muna ako makakadalaw dahil wala pa akong datungers para magpakita sa kanya.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isang minute lang pagkatapos kong i-send ang text tumawag kaagad siya sa akin. Ayun nga nangangamusta kasi halos six months na rin nang huli kaming magkita at sobrang miss na miss na nga daw ako. Inulit ko naman ang sinabi ko at at inemphasize na tag-krisis ngayon kaya kung pwede eh tigil tigilan niya muna ako.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Hanukaba, lika na lang dito dali. Di naman importate ang datungers. Eh di bayaran mo na lang ako sa next na sweldo mo. Basta halika na dito dahil matagal ka na naming hindi naaayusan. Kamusta na ba yang kilay mo? I’m sure sobrang kapal na naman niyan at malapit mo nang maging kamukha si...(may sinabi siyang pangalan pero diko na matandaan, pero I'm sure pangit yung sinabi niyang yun)&lt;may&gt;. Yang buhok mo, freezy na yan, six months na nung nagpa-rebond ka dito. Nung huling punta mo rito ang dami mong pimples ineng… kamusta naba yan???" may halong pangungutya ang mga tinuran niyang yon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gusto ko pa sanang tumanggi… pero wala na akong kawala kasi pauutangin daw ako eh. Ngayon pilit kong hinahanapan ng rason kung bakit ako tinatawagan at pinipilit na magpa-parlor .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Naisip ko… siguro dahil pala-kaibigan lang talaga ako or baka naman galante kasi akong mag tip. Pwede rin namang di ma-take ng konsensiya nilang isipin na ganito ang hitsura kong gagala-gala sa lansangan kaya kailangan nila akong gawan ng paraan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dahil nga sobrang mabili ang fezlak ko dito sa Dubai at sobra talaga akong pala-kaibigan, yung huling parlor na pinupuntahan ko eh kinuha akong maging model sa salon nila. Pero malaking gulo ang nangyari. Dinemanda ko sila ngayon sa kasong defamation of dignity, kasi ganito ang kinalabasan ng signage sa salon…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SpFI0CPDJII/AAAAAAAAAEo/HJbE8HhYJfo/s1600-h/barber+shop+-+edited.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SpFI0CPDJII/AAAAAAAAAEo/HJbE8HhYJfo/s1600-h/barber+shop+-+edited.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SpFI-nxIU7I/AAAAAAAAAEw/qB8rMOySZ0c/s1600-h/barber+shop+-+edited.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5373156071093851058" style="WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SpFI-nxIU7I/AAAAAAAAAEw/qB8rMOySZ0c/s400/barber+shop+-+edited.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;LECHE!!! mas gwapo naman ako jan no!!!! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I belong to the minor age and this is a sensitive case so I have to protect my true identity.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kaya naman nung sumunod na may nag-offer, eh pinatulan ko pa rin, mahirap naman kapag di ma-expose ang beauty nating tunay… kaya para siguradong di lang ako ang mapapahiya eh isinama ko na ang BFF ko…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SpFJYV4PglI/AAAAAAAAAE4/eecNK9NoY-A/s1600-h/bubul+-+edited.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5373156512968442450" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SpFJYV4PglI/AAAAAAAAAE4/eecNK9NoY-A/s400/bubul+-+edited.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ahhmmm, pasintabi na lang po sa pangalan… diko natanggihan ang laki ng offer eh…&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/may&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7713733000419917087-5277613126168040060?l=wattuduyanie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/feeds/5277613126168040060/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7713733000419917087&amp;postID=5277613126168040060&amp;isPopup=true' title='22 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/5277613126168040060'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/5277613126168040060'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/2009/08/next-dubai-supermodel-yanie.html' title='The Next Dubai Supermodel ..... Yanie!'/><author><name>Yanie's Ka-blags!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11501502004310550922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SU-VzSOLKfI/AAAAAAAAAAM/CJLGeE1rmx0/S220/girlumbrellabanner.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SpFI-nxIU7I/AAAAAAAAAEw/qB8rMOySZ0c/s72-c/barber+shop+-+edited.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>22</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7713733000419917087.post-8612175772291890125</id><published>2009-08-22T01:34:00.012+04:00</published><updated>2009-10-07T11:28:12.026+04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='nag-REVIEW kasi may test bukas'/><title type='text'>Finished the book "The Awakening"</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="LINE-HEIGHT: 19px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;EDNA&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;: “Anong dahilan at ako’y iyong iniiwasan, Roberto?”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'Trebuchet MS';"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="FONT-WEIGHT: normal"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; LINE-HEIGHT: 14.65pt"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Georgia','serif'; mso-fareast-: font-family:'Times New Roman';color:black;"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="FONT-WEIGHT: normal"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="FONT-WEIGHT: normal"&gt;&lt;?xml:namespace prefix = o /&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; LINE-HEIGHT: 14.65pt"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Georgia','serif'; mso-fareast-: font-family:'Times New Roman';color:black;"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="FONT-WEIGHT: normal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;R&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="FONT-WEIGHT: normal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;OBERTO:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="FONT-WEIGHT: normal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt; “Bak&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="FONT-WEIGHT: normal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;it ka ba masyadong nagdadalamhati, Ginang. Pontellier? Bakit para bagang pinipilit mo akong ma&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="FONT-WEIGHT: normal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;niwala sa isang kahangalan? Palagay ko ay wala rin namang silbi kung sasabihin ko sa’yo na ako ay&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="FONT-WEIGHT: normal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt; naging abala sa maraming bagay, o kaya’y ako ay nagkasakit, o sinadya talaga kitang dalawin ngunit h&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="FONT-WEIGHT: normal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;indi kita naabutan sa inyong tahahan. Pabayaan mo na ako sa mga katwiran na iyon.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; LINE-HEIGHT: 14.65pt"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Georgia','serif'; mso-fareast-: font-family:'Times New Roman';color:black;"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="FONT-WEIGHT: normal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;EDNA: “Makasarili ka Roberto. May inilalabi ka sa iyong sarili – hindi ko alam kung ano iyon – pero makasarili ka. Sa pagliligtas mo ng iyong sarili ay hindi mo na binigyan ng pagpapahalaga kung ano man ang iniiisip ko, o ang nararamdaman ko sa pagiging manhid mo at sa kalamigan mo. Palagay ko ay hindi na ako umaasta bilang isang babae; pero nakanasayan ko nang isiwalat ang anumang nararamdaman ko. Maaari mo ring isipin na hindi na nga talaga ako umaasta bilang babae ngunit wala na akong pakialam dito.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; LINE-HEIGHT: 14.65pt"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Georgia','serif'; mso-fareast-: font-family:'Times New Roman';color:black;"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; LINE-HEIGHT: 14.65pt"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Georgia','serif'; mso-fareast-: font-family:'Times New Roman';color:black;"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="FONT-WEIGHT: normal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;ROBERTO: “Hindi... iniisip ko lang na ikaw ay walang awa. Siguro ay hindi mo sinasadya na maging malupit, pero pinupwersa mo ako sa isang pagsisiwalat na walang patutunguhan; parang gusto mong itiwangwang ang aking sugat para sa iyong kasiyahan, maiibsan mo man ang sakit na nararamdaman ko,&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;ngunit wala ka namang intensiyong gamutin ito.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; LINE-HEIGHT: 14.65pt"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'Times New Roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;___________________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt; LINE-HEIGHT: 14.65pt"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'Times New Roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;table class="MsoNormalTable" style="BORDER-COLLAPSE: collapse; mso-yfti-tbllook: 1184; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 0in 0in" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" border="0"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="PADDING-RIGHT: 0in; PADDING-LEFT: 0in; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0in; PADDING-TOP: 0in" valign="top"&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="LINE-HEIGHT: 14.65pt"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;“Why have you kept away from me, ‘Robert?”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="mso-fareast-Times: ;font-family:'Times New Roman','serif';" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="LINE-HEIGHT: 14.65pt"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;“Why are you so personal, Mrs Pontellier? Why do you force me to idiotic subterfuges? I suppose there’s no use telling you I’ve been very busy, or that I’ve been sick, or that I’ve been to see you and not found you at home. Please let me off with any one of these excuses.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="mso-fareast-Times: ;font-family:'Times New Roman','serif';" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="LINE-HEIGHT: 14.65pt"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;“You are an embodiment of selfishness. You save yourself something – I don’t know what – but there is some selfish motive, and in sparing yourself you never consider for a moment what I think, or how I feel about your neglect and indifference. I suppose this is what you would call unwomanly; but I have got into a habit of expressing myself. It doesn’t matter to me, and you may think me unwomanly if you like.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="mso-fareast-Times: ;font-family:'Times New Roman','serif';" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="LINE-HEIGHT: 14.65pt"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;“No, I only think you are cruel. Maybe not intentionally cruel, but you seem to be forcing me into disclosures which can result in nothing; &lt;b&gt;as if you would have me bare a wound for the pleasure of looking at it, without the intention of power of healing it&lt;/b&gt;.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="mso-fareast-Times: ;font-family:'Times New Roman','serif';" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;These are just some of the lines that made me cry over the book “&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Awakening_(literature)"&gt;The Awakening” by Kate Chopin&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I just finished reading it and believe me there are still countless excerpts that jerked my tears, but these I believe are the best lines (for me) that are worth translating in tagalog.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;You see… everyone falls in love…&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;And just like the theory of Lucas (from the character of &lt;a href="http://showbizandstyle.inquirer.net/entertainment/entertainment/view/20081128-174791/Ricky-Lee-man-of-letters"&gt;Ricky Lee’s Para Kay B&lt;/a&gt;)... 4 out of 5 from us will be devastated by love.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;With this, reality check is always a necessity.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;In love… yes we do get ecstatic, blissful... and of course at some point... devastated… but we do move on, anyway.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;And it’s foolishness to believe that forever actually exists…&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;This too shall pass.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;And yet, everyone still rummages around for it.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="FONT-STYLE: normal;font-family:'Trebuchet MS';" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 282px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 460px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.booksshouldbefree.com/images/big/Awakening.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Awakening_(literature)"&gt;The Awakening by Kate Chopin&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;i&gt;: Recommends this to women who are loyal, obedient, focused, responsible, caring and loving. &lt;b&gt;Warning&lt;/b&gt;… you’ll be the opposite after reading the book.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,238); FONT-STYLE: normal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="TEXT-DECORATION: underline"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372540627977265186" style="WIDTH: 284px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/So8ZPHfwYCI/AAAAAAAAAEI/mRNE6w0-d5A/s400/divisoria_2048_30372607.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;a href="http://showbizandstyle.inquirer.net/entertainment/entertainment/view/20081128-174791/Ricky-Lee-man-of-letters"&gt;Para kay B by Ricky Lee&lt;/a&gt;:&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;i&gt; Recommended for all genders… And I mean &lt;b&gt;ALL GENDERS&lt;/b&gt;… But you have to be crazy-matured enough to understand and appreciate the story.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: left"&gt;&lt;i&gt;*Tagalog translation is with the help of &lt;a href="http://reyastone.blogspot.com/"&gt;Ms Rhea Stone&lt;/a&gt;. Thank you.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7713733000419917087-8612175772291890125?l=wattuduyanie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/feeds/8612175772291890125/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7713733000419917087&amp;postID=8612175772291890125&amp;isPopup=true' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/8612175772291890125'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/8612175772291890125'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/2009/08/finished-book-awakening.html' title='Finished the book &quot;The Awakening&quot;'/><author><name>Yanie's Ka-blags!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11501502004310550922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SU-VzSOLKfI/AAAAAAAAAAM/CJLGeE1rmx0/S220/girlumbrellabanner.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/So8ZPHfwYCI/AAAAAAAAAEI/mRNE6w0-d5A/s72-c/divisoria_2048_30372607.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7713733000419917087.post-7406970920498646867</id><published>2009-08-20T22:32:00.005+04:00</published><updated>2009-08-20T23:08:41.163+04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ka-blog-gastugan'/><title type='text'>Blast from the Blogs!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Kahapon, habang sinusulat ko ang post na &lt;a href="http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/2009/08/juana-tamad.html"&gt;Juana Tamad&lt;/a&gt;, ako’y naka-pink na kamiseta, naka blue na shorts, naka-kagat ng toothpick (gamit sa pangungukot ng aking tinga), nakataas ang paa sa upuan at naka-full volume ng kanta.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Ngayon, ganito na naman ang hitsura ko. &lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;(owehno ngayon kung di ako nagpapalit ng damit? mahirap kayang maglaba? tsaka pinalitan ko naman ang tutpik no!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Ang kaibahan lang naka-salamin na ako ngayon.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Weekend kasi at alam kong puyatan na naman ito hanggang alas tres ng madaling araw.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;(Ang kinalaman ng salamin sa pagtulog ay sa susunod na blog ko na lang ipapaliwanag.)&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Sabi ko sa sarili ko... (nakakahiligan ko talagang kausapin ang sarili ko), magpo-post ako ngayon ng makabuluhang entry para sa blogsite ko.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Medyo napansin ko kasing marami na ang pumapansin sakin, (pero dulot din ito ng puspusan kong pagpapansin talaga…&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;KSP kasi ako) kaya medyo nakakaramdam na ako ng pressure sa quality ng sinusulat ko (nakss!).&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Kaso mukhang di na naman ako magiging successful neto. &lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Una, kasi di na lang tinga ang nang-iirita sa kin ngayon, kasama na rin ang nanay kong ayaw akong tantanan sa kapipilit na bunutin ang kanyang mga uban (ganyan ka-adik ang nanay ko… alas diyes ng gabi magpapa-uban).&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Pangalawa, wala kaming TV ngayon kaya ang mga junakis ko eh segu-segundo kung humingi ng pagkain, pabalik balik tuloy ako sa fridge at pangatlo eh medyo di ako nagkakanda-ugaga sa kaba-blog hopping.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;At dito ko nga napag-alaman na para pala akong isang spider na nawala sa sapot.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Nung una, ang kaibigan ko lang dito sa blogosphere eh si &lt;span style="color:red;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://utaknidrake.blogspot.com/"&gt;Drake&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt; dahil nakakasama ko siya sa isang site kung saan ako mas naging confident na magsulat.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;(&lt;span style="color:red;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://filipinowriter.com/"&gt;Filipino Writer&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;).&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Feeling ko medyo matagal na rin akong nagba-blog (mga 30 years na ... hehe). &lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Sa Friendster site ko pa lang marami na akong naisusulat pero nung nauso ang Facebook napabayaan ko na rin ang blog site ko dun.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Itong blogsite ko na to eh December last year ko pa inopen… and it was primarily for my own consumption lang talaga.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Kaya lahat ng mga sikreto ko eh dito ko sinusulat (hahaha sikreto ko pero naka-live feed to the whole wide universe).&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Medyo nagsawa ako sa pag-iisa kaya binulatlat ko ang blogsite ni Pareng Drake (bayaran moko Drake nakakarami ka nang ads dito sa site ko ha) at dito na nga ako namulat sa katotohanang di pala ako mag-isa sa mundong ganito at ang blogging pala is meant to be read by people.  (Kasi kailangan talagang may mag-comment nyehehe)&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Salamat sa PEBA at Kablogs, dito ko kasi nakita ang lawak ng mundong ito at sa totoo lang nalula talaga ako... (aktwali, na-engganyo lang ako sa mga awards kaya ako nagpapansin dun hahaha, joke lang) feeling ko ngayon para akong si Brendan Fraser sa movie na Blast from the Past na nakalabas sa isang mundo… manghang mangha at parang tanga na nakikipag kaibigan sa mga bloggers, dinagdagan ang utang sa credit card para sa feedjit-whatever-na-yan, dagdag ng dagdag ng kung anu anong gadget dahil lamang sa kagustuhang mabigyan ng saysay ang ka-adikang ito.  Sana naman eh magtagumpay ako...&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Siya sige na muna at anjan na naman si Ina, nakaduldol na naman sa mukha ko ang tsani niya.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/So2d_5ePowI/AAAAAAAAADw/P4LDnMLmddU/s400/beggar.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372123651607864066" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 289px; height: 347px; " /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7713733000419917087-7406970920498646867?l=wattuduyanie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/feeds/7406970920498646867/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7713733000419917087&amp;postID=7406970920498646867&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/7406970920498646867'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/7406970920498646867'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/2009/08/blast-from-blogs.html' title='Blast from the Blogs!'/><author><name>Yanie's Ka-blags!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11501502004310550922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SU-VzSOLKfI/AAAAAAAAAAM/CJLGeE1rmx0/S220/girlumbrellabanner.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/So2d_5ePowI/AAAAAAAAADw/P4LDnMLmddU/s72-c/beggar.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7713733000419917087.post-7889469501676558033</id><published>2009-08-19T21:50:00.004+04:00</published><updated>2009-08-22T20:33:47.124+04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ka-blog-gastugan'/><title type='text'>Juana Tamad</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Ito ang laging introduction ng isang writer na hindi makapag-sulat.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;“Kanina pa ako nakatingin sa isang blangkong screen” &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Para naman sa walang computer “Kanina pa ako nakatitig sa aking blankong papel”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;At pagkatapos non, ide-describe na nila kung anong nasa harapan nila…&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;kung ano ang mga &lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;naiisip... maya maya dina nila namamalayan napupuno na pala nila ang screen/papel nila.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Sa kaso ko naman, andami kong gustong isulat.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Pero kung bakit ambigat ng kamay kong mag-type ng nasa isip ko.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Kanina pa kasi ako naiirita dito sa diko matanggal na tinga na nakasiksik sa aking ngipin.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Naisip kong mag tooth brush muna at mag floss bago magsulat, kaso, mag type na nga lang tinatamad na ako eh, ang tumayo pa kaya para mag-toothbrush?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Stop…&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Tingin sa screen.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Basahin ang mga naisulat na.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Kamot ng tuhod.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Balik sa pagkutkot ng tinga.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Edit.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Yawn.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;(sorry di ako sigurado sa tagalog nito eh, hikab ang nasa isip ko… tama ba?)&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Sabi kasi nila kung wala ka raw maisip isulat… (in other words eh may writer’s block ka).&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Isulat mo lang daw nang isulat lahat ng iluwa ng utak mo, mapa with sense o non-sense man ito.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Buti pa sa ganitong sitwasyon eh may solusyon.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Eh paano naman kapag nag-uunahan ang mga ideya sa utak mo pero tinatamad kang buhatin ang mga daliri mo para mag-umpisang torturin ang mga keyboards?&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;May solusyon ba sa katamaran?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Haaisstt…&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Makapag-blog hopping na nga muna…&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7713733000419917087-7889469501676558033?l=wattuduyanie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/feeds/7889469501676558033/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7713733000419917087&amp;postID=7889469501676558033&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/7889469501676558033'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/7889469501676558033'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/2009/08/juana-tamad.html' title='Juana Tamad'/><author><name>Yanie's Ka-blags!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11501502004310550922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SU-VzSOLKfI/AAAAAAAAAAM/CJLGeE1rmx0/S220/girlumbrellabanner.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7713733000419917087.post-7749733717735307577</id><published>2009-08-17T16:00:00.013+04:00</published><updated>2009-08-17T21:26:45.413+04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ka-blog-gastugan'/><title type='text'>5 School Facts (Na-Kabog nang Ma-Tag)</title><content type='html'>Certified uto-uto naman ako kaya naman pinanindigan ko na ang panta-tag sakin ni Drake sa kanyang Five School Facts. Daig pa nito ang swine flu sa pag spread kasi bawat ata blogger meron na neto, feeling ko pati ako na pagkatanda-tanda na (magsi-sixty na kasi ako sa November eh) nadadamay pako dito. Eh wala naman ka-kwenta kwentang gawain ito dahil unang una, papahiyain at ipagkakanulo ko lang naman ang sarili ko dahil sa pagsambulat ng mga bagay na ni sa bestfren ko ng 20 years eh hindi ko pa nasasabi. Pangalawa, saan ka ba naman nakakita ng ganitong kahibangan sa buhay kung saan susulat ka ng ng mga bagay para mapagtawanan ka at pangatlo, WALA NAMANG PERA DITO!!! Haaaisstt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But nevertheless, however, chuva chenes, noon pa man gusto ko nang ibenta ang sarili ko sa mga tao. Walang bumibili sa mga emo-shits ko kaya sabi ko, just be yourself gurl… Be the wacky, crazy, lunatic Yanie as everyone knows you to be. Naisingit-singit ko naman na sa ibang mga kwento ko ang mga kabaliwan ko noong nag-aaral pa ako sa ilang mga blogs pero hindi naman ganito ka-garapal. Kaya eto uumpisahan ko na.&lt;br /&gt;Para lang kumalat ang virus este ang “blog-tag” na to eh kailangan ko daw mag-share ng limang bagay na hindi ko makakalimutan nung estudyante pa ako. Pwede mag-request? Pwede ko bang isama mga kabulastugan ko nung may nagkamaling i-hire akong teacher?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Si Yanie bilang nuno ng mga shortcut…&lt;/strong&gt; Ang bahay namin noon ay malapit lang sa school. Mayroon nga lang isang “mini-ilog-pasig” na nagse-separate sa barangay namin at sa eskwelahan nung elementary. Kapag summer, natutuyo ang tubig dito kaya pwede kaming tumawid para maka-rating sa kabila. Kung susumahin, mga sampung minutong lakaran lang eh nasa eskwelahan na ako, pero kapag tag-ulan naman, napupuno ito ng tubig kaya kailangan naming umikot ng pagkalayo layo pag pumapasok. Umikot, as in kailangan nang mag-tricycle o mag-kalesa. Pero sabi ko nga ang mini-ilog-pasig na ito ay mini-ilog-pasig talaga. Ano ba nakikita niyo sa tunay na ilog Pasig kundi ano pa eh di gabundok na basura, itim na tubig at nagkalat na tae ng lahat na yata ng klaseng nilalang sa mundo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kapag sinisipag ang mga kagawad namin sa barangay noon, lalo na kapag malapit na ang election, nagpapakitang gilas naman ang mga barangay officials namin at nagko-construct sila ng tulay dito. Construct talaga eh no, akala mo, London Bridge ang ginagawa. Sabi ng mga barangay officials kapag nangangampanya sila (di ko nga pala ibubulgar dito na kagawad at kapitan ang lolo ko sa barangay namin at siya ang nagpapasimuno ng contruction nato…) Para daw ito sa mga masisipag ngunit kapus-palad na estudyanteng katulad ko. Mga walang pamasahe pag pumapasok (may pamasahe naman ako, kaya lang mas gusto kong ibili ng lastiko, kasi uso noon ang pahabaan ng ganito para sa larong chinese garter at tsaka pambili ng paborito kong chichiria na Pom-Pom at Jumbo Orange Hotdog).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ayun na nga, katatapos lang ng ulan noon, konting ulan lang mababaha talaga ang mini-ilog pasig namin. Nakalimutan ko ang project kong pinagpuyatan ko ng isang oras at kailangan nang i-submit nung araw na yun. Binagtas ko ang ma-talahib na daan papunta sa shortcut... kailangan ko talagang dumaan sa makikipot na iskinita, umakyat sa mga bundok ng basura.. (hehe joke lang) at talasan ang mga mata at baka maka-tapak ng mga tae na naka-kalat sa gilid gilid. Eh dahil nga yata may amnesia ako nung araw na yun dahil nga napuyat ako‘t nakatuog na lang ng alas otso ng gabi dahil sa pagggawa ng project, nakalimutan ko rin na katatapos lang palang umulan ng gabing iyon. Pagka-kita ko sa tatawirin kong shortcut… may tubig. Hindi ito basta basta oridinaryong tubig na umaagos at pwede mo lang tawirin na parang batis, sapa o ilog. Ito’y parang kumunoy, parang kanal… na kulay green, hindi lang water lilies ang lumulutang dito, may mga tsinelas, supot ng mga chichiria na kinain pa yata ng mga kanunu-nunuhan ko, brief ni Angkel Atong na nagwala kamakailan dahil hindi niya mahanap ito, at di mo rin malalaman kung may itinapon nang bangkay doon dahil sa sobrang kapal ng mga basurang naitambak doon. Oo, at some point naging basurera talaga ko, isang hampas lupa and I'm proud of it hahaha. Eh dahil nga naibili ko na ng pom pom ang pera ko ng hapong yon, kailangan kong magdesisiyon between life and grade. Siyempre pinili ko ang grade kaya pikit mata kong tinawid ang kumunoy na yon na hanggang bewang ko ang lalim. Pagkatapos non ay isinumpa kong sana laging sumakit ang ngipin ng teacher ko dahil sa pagpupumilit niyang pa-submitin kami ng project nang araw na iyon. Pagbalik ko sa school, (naligo na po ako) di lang pala ako ang walang project at okay lang daw na bukas na mag-submit ang iba… pero minus 5 na ang grade. Haay, na-minus 5-years tuloy ang buhay ko dahil sa insidenteng yon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pero dipa talaga dun natatapos ang expertise ko sa mga short-cutan na yan. Ngayon ko lang na-realize kung gaano pala ako katamad maglakad. Kasi pati mga pader inaakyat ko talaga para lang makarating kaagad sa school. Imagine naka-palda ako noon kasi laging pinapa-alala sakin ng nanay ko na babae ako, babae!… at naranasan kong masabit ang palda ko sa mga naka-usling bakal… Buti na lang diko suot yung butas na panty ko na hinhiram ko lang sa ate ko nyahahahaha… Kahit naman kasi napaka luwang ng gate namin ewan ko ba kung bakit ang hilig kong nagsusumiksik sa mga butas, umakyat sa mga pader at sumuong sa mga talahiban para lang makarating kaagad sa paroroonan. Promise, hanggang ngayon, ganyan pa rin ang ugali ko. Dito sa Dubai, kahit naka-high heels, lalakarin ko pa rin ang buhanginan makarating lang kaagad sa parking area or bus stop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Fountain of Youth.&lt;/strong&gt; Sabi ng blog ni &lt;a href="http://utaknidrake.blogspot.com/2009/08/five-school-facts-itag-tag-mo-tag.html"&gt;Drake&lt;/a&gt;… Ang tao daw na hinding hindi natin makakalimutan sa panahon ng ating pag-aaral ay ang taong naka-tae sa school. Sa kaso ko, I’m sure meron din niyan pero malala ang amnesia ko ngayon kaya wala akong matandaan. (Tsk, ang swerte ng batang iyon.) Ngunit na-retain sa isip ko ang isang batang kakilala hindi nai-abot miski sa talahiban ang kanyang IHI.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ang kwento ganito. Hinihintay niya noon si Mang Dinoy, ang kutsero na siyang taga-sundo nila sa hapon pauwi. Eh napa-aga ang labas ng batang iyon kaya nauna na siyang nag-abang sa labas ng school gate. May natira pa sa baon niya kaya naisipan niya munang bumili ng tinapay na pansit ang palaman at juice na tigi-dos. Tig-singkwenta lang ang juice noon pero dahil sobrang nauuhaw siya kaya pinuno niya ang supot sapat para sa presyong dos. At dipa nakuntento, dahil ang tagal ng dating ni Mang Dinoy, bumili pa ng dalawang ice candy at mag-isang linamon. Lam niyo naman na siguro ang kasunod ng mga ganung pangyayari diba? Kung ganun eh di jump na lang tayo sa susunod na school fact?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hehe lam ko namang inaabangan niyo din kaya yun na nga, namimilipit na ang bata dahil di na niya mapigilan ang pagsabog ng kanyang balun-balunan. Napakalayo pa ng kanilang CR at alam niyang malapit na ring dumating si Mang Dinoy. Dagdag pa sa pasanin niya na kapag paghihiwalayin niya ang naka-ekis niyang paa, siguradong malu-loose thread ang gripo at matutuluyan na ang pag-agos ng Magat Dam. Siyempre diko naman ito ike-kwento dito kung hindi siya natuluyan diba? Ayun na nga natuluyan na ngang bumaha ang planet earth at sa di mawaring dahilan ay duon lamang sa kinatatatyuan ng bata ang pag-bahang naganap. May dumaan na batang lakaki sa harapan niya. Kunwaring liningon lingon ng babaeng paslit ang kalangitan, nagdadasal na sana umulan o kahit umambon man lang para mabigyan ng hustisya ang kanyang basang palda at ang lupa na kinatatayuan niya . Iginala gala pa ang paningin sa mga punong kahoy na parang humihingi ng saklolo at kung maaari lang na pagbintangan niya ang mga ito sa kalamidad na nangyari sa kanya. Ngunit mag-isa lang siya sa lugar na iyon. Wala siyang lusot, walang maidadahilan. Dumating na si Mang Dinoy. Nagsidatingan na rin ang mga ka-tropa niya sa kalesa. Di na niya alam ang gagawin niya dahil hindi niya maitago ang basang palda niya, idagdag pa ang amoy… o may gush! Buti na lang ipinganak ang bata na matalino. Hindi siya tumabi sa ibang mga bata sa loob ng kalesa bagkus sumabit na lang ito hanggang sa maka-uwi. At habang nahahanginan ang kanyang palda siyempre natutuyo na’t naisasama na rin sa hangin ang amoy nito.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ngayon nga ay nagmumuni muni ang bata iyon kung isasama pa niya ang karanasang ito sa kanyang blog dahil unang una, nabi-buwisit na siya kung bakit pa siya nagpa-uto jan sa blog-tag na yan at pangalawa napakalaking kahihiyan ito sa kanilang angkan na inire-respeto sa kanilang barangay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sabi nang “It’s better to give eh.”&lt;/strong&gt; Grade 3 yata ako noong namulat ako sa saya na dulot ng exchange gifts sa tuwing Christmas. Nakakatuwa kasi yung may bubuksan kang regalo sa tuwing pasko diba? At di naman excempted ang school namin sa ganitong tradisyon. Nung grade 3 yata ang natanggap ko eh panyo, ang saya saya ko noon kasi limang panyo ang binigay sakin na bulaklakan pa yung iba at may kasama pang cloud nine na chocolate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pagdating ko ng grade 4, pinaghirapan ko talaga at nagtagal ako sa paghahanap ng ireregalo sa kris kringle ko. Diko na matandaan kung magkano ang presyo nang dapat mong ireregalo noon pero matandaan kong sinobrahan ko ang presyo nung ireregalo ko dahil ayoko namang mapahiya. Sigurado masasayahan ang makakatanggap nito, bulong ko pa sa aking sarili. Red ribbon for the hair kasi ito na may butterfly pa, kung ako ang makakatanggap nun, sobrang magiging masaya ako kasi bagay na bagay yun sa damit ko at siyempre sa pinahaba kong kulot na buhok. Ako naman, at the back of my mind, umaasa na kasing-ganda rin ng binigay ko ang matatanggap ko.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pagdating ko ng bahay, ingat na ingat akong tanggalin ang mga scotch tape na pinambalot kasi gagamitin ko pa iyong box na yon sa iba pang ipanreregalo ko. At nang sa wakas ay mabuksan ko na nga ang para sa akin, tumambad sa akin ang………. (drum roll please) …. Medyas… hinalughog ko pa ang maliit na box, baka kako meron pang naipit dun na keychain or kahit na picture frame man lang na kulay violet. Pero wala, wala talagang iba doon kundi… Medyas. Diko napigilan ang umiyak. Umatungal talaga ako sa nanay ko. Pinilit ko siyang bumalik sa school at bawiin ang iniregalo kong red ribbon with matching butterflies. Nagwala talaga ako at itinapon ang medyas na natanggap ko. Ang sama ko no? Pinalo ako ng pinalo ng nanay ko at pagkatapos non eh pinangakuan naman niya akong ibibilhan na lang daw ako ng ganun. (Pagkatapos akong paluin ng paluin!!! haaayy)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Si Yanie alyas Yano (as in Yanie Unano)&lt;/strong&gt; Oo, inaamin ko na… Pandak ako. Natural lang naman siguro yun kung pandak din ang magulang mo diba? Alangan namang manisi pa ako ng tao kaya tinanggap ko na lang na wala na akong magagawa dun. Pero ewan ko ba kung bakit naman lahat ng mga naging kaibigan ko ay mga higante… Hindi ko alam kung bakit nila ako gustong gustong kasama. Minsan iniisip ko na baka defense mechanism lang siguro nila yun kasi gusto nilang maging kapansin-pansin kapag ako ang kasama nila dahil talaga namang sila ang napapansin… Or dahil sa talagang mabit lang ako at ako talaga ang gusto nilang kaibiganin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kaya naman tuloy siyempre pagdating ng 3rd year, eh dahil nga matatangkad sila, alangan namang ako lang ang maiiwang maging regular na cadette sa CAT? Siyempre gusto ko ding sumama sa kanila para maging officer no?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eh minsan, na-late kami ni higanteng BFF sa isang hazing… (haha, hazing ata ang tawag dun sa training bago ka maging officer) Ang sabi nung 4th year na officer, “Give me 5 helicopters”. Di namin alam, parusa na pala namin yun sa pagiging late. Nagtinginan kami ni higanteng-BFF kasi we had no clue kung ano ang sinasabi ng ulupong na officer na yun (na by the way crush ko pala siya kaya sobrang hiyang hiya ako noon). Dahil nga sa di kami tuminag sa kinatatayuan namin, sumigaw pa siya lalo ng “Give me 10 helicopters now!!” Eh dahil mas malakas ang loob ko at dahil masama talaga ang kutob ko sa ibig sabihin ng helicopter na yun at ayoko nang madagdagan pa ang 10, nagtanong na ako ng “Eh ser, huwat is helicopter?.” Natuwa pa ata sa akin si officer-crush kaya napa-smile muna siya bago idinemonstrate kung paano gawin ang helicopter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Paano gawin ang helicopter? Halikayo, samahan niyo akong gawin ito ngayon… sundan lamang ang sumusunod. Una, itaas ang inyong kanang kamay at magpanggap na parang dinuduro niyo ang monitor ng computer niyo. Pangalawa, ipadaan ang inyong kaliwang kamay sa ilalim ng inyong kanang kamay at abutin ang kanang tenga. Wag niyo lang basta basta abutin ito, hawakan ang kanang tenga okay. Pangatlo, tumayo ka sa kinauupuan mo at ngayon din ay tumuwad habang ang kaliwang kamay ay nakahawak pa rin sa kanang tenga at ang kanang kamay naman ngayon ay nakaturo na sa lupa… umpisahan mo nang umikot… sige ikot pa, ikot hanggang lima… Nakaya mo? Anong naramdaman mo? Nakaabot ka ba ng lima? Imaginin mo ang sampung ganyan na ginawa namin… Daig pa namin ang humithit ng isang sako ng marijuana pagkatapos ng punishment na yon. Naisuka ko pa ang santol na kinain ko bago pumunta sa hazing na yun na kung saan nakipag-away pa ako kay manang tindera dahil ayaw niyang dagdagan ng asin ang santol ko. Leche, pagkatapos nun eh nag-quit na ako sa paga-aspire na maging officer… Si higanteng BFF na lang ang tumuloy kahit na malungkot siya… Aspiring commandant pa naman kasi siya at nagpa-plano na kaming ako ang gagawin niyang second in command, nyahaha (joke ko lang to). Pero sabi ko siya na lang, dahil nais ko pang mabuhay para magisnan ang pagdurusa ng officer na yun (na crush ko pa man din) habang kinukulam ko siya.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Late Yanie.&lt;/strong&gt; Lagi akong late nung college. Yun bang kapag alas siyete ang klase eh alas siyete din ako magigising. At patapos na ang first period eh saka pa lang ako papasok. Ang lagi tuloy tukso sakin ng mga classmates ko eh I’m very early daw for the next class. Naniniwala talaga ako sa kasabihang walang taong bobo, tamad meron. Nuno naman talaga ako ng katamaran. Wala akong notebook, ni hindi nga ako nagba-bag eh. Pauso ko kasi sa school ang kasabihang makikita ang tunay na matalinong estudyante kapag di siya nagba-bag at walang dalang notebooks o books. Kasi kako, sa bahay pa lang dapat na-review na lahat at dapat ang baon na lang sa school ay utak. Eh ako, dahil nga sa ubod ako ng katamaran, miski sa bahay hindi ako nagre-review at ang dala ko lang pag pumapasok sa school eh diskette para maka-kopya ng projects… isang bolpen at isang kopon ban. Buti na lang, wise spender ako, pag nagpapadala si mama ng pera pambaon ko, isang notebook lang ang binibili ko kasi the rest ng baon ko eh, ginagamit kong pang-xerox ng mga notebooks ng mga klasmeyts ko hehe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pagdating sa kopyahan dimo rin ako malalamangan. Alam na alam ko rin lahat ng techniques sa pangongopya. Kaya naman tuloy hirap na hirap ang mga naging estudyante ko sa mga exams nila sakin nung ako naman ang minalas na maging teacher nila. Kasi pinagtiya-tiyagaan ko talagang gumawa ng Sets A, B and C pagdating ng exams, dagdag pa sa instructions ang… Erasures are automatically wrong, use only green pen at right minus wrong. Haha, I’m sure isinusumpa ako noon ng mga estudayante ko… (Oo naman kahit ganito lang ako ka-baliw eh wansapanataym naging teacher din ako ng mga kalokohan este computer subjects sa mga college students). Buti na lang eh medyo mabait naman ako ng konti sa mga kalahati sa kanila kaya mostly yung mga yun ang friends ko sa Friendster at yung kalahati naman ay nagpapadala sa akin ng mga hate mails at chain letters na kung hindi ko daw ifo-forward eh mamatay ang aso namin... buti na lang matagal na siyang patay… hehehe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Madami pa akong school facts na ayoko nang ibulgar pa dito. Kasi sobra sobra na talaga sa kahihiyan. Ayoko namang ipagkalat pa sa maraming tao ang ilang libong beses kong pagkaka-tapilok sa school… at may mga insidente pang naputol ang takong ng sapatos ko na ang sabi ng nanay ko eh original daw yun, kasi made in Hong Kong. Kaya naman nung bumili na ako ng sapatos na made na in the Philippines eh talagang ang pinili ko yung wala nang takong, pero mukha naman daw bapor sabi ng kaibigan kong traydor dahil sa pagsasabi niya ng katotohanan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Diko rin aaminin na nakikipag-away ako sa mga teachers dahil ichini-chismis ko sila sa buong university na boring silang magturo. At siyempre idagdag mo na rin ang mapagalitan ng mga sisters sa school dahil sa tuwing prayer time eh bungisngis ng bungisngis. Muntik pang napaalis sa klase dahil napabulanghit sa tawa nang mag recite ang kakaklase ko ng “Our father in heaven, holy be your name… But &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;“the liver”&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; us from evil… Amen” (Hindi, exag ko lang yun, hindi ako yung tumawa…) At kasama ng isan ring klasmeyt, mahilig din kaming gumamit ng boys' CR dahil mas malapit ito kesa sa mga pang-girls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ambilis ng panahon. Diko alam kung matutuwa akong isipin na tong mga kine-kwento kong ito eh parang kahapon lang nangyari o malulungkot dahil palalim na ng palalim ang dapat na maging dahilan ng tao para maging masaya siya. Iniisip ko kasi na halos hilingin kong magunaw na ang mundo noong mga panahong ito pero ngayon pinagtatawanan ko na lang. Minsan din iniisip ko na parang kelan lang na ang pinag-uusapan namin ng mga dabarkads sa tuwing may overnight at inuman sa bahay ay tungkol sa mga boyfriends namin na ubod ng bait, tungkol sa kung sino ang boyfren ni ganito at kung sino na ang nabutis ni ganyan... Ngayon ang pinag-uusapan na namin ay tungkol sa milyon milyong salapi na hindi na malaman kung saan gagastusin, (in other words eh sino kaya ang susunod naming uutangan)... tungkol sa process ng mga divorce divorce na yan, kung sino na ang kabit ni ganito at hiniwalayan ni ganyan at kung paano namin itutumba ang mga taong nakaka-imbiyerna sa amin ng bonggang bogga.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ngayon, ito na yata yung parte ng blog na pipili naman ako sino ang ita-tag ko sa blog na to. Para sa mga di nakakaintindi, ibig sabihin kapag na-tag ka dito, ikaw naman ang sumunod na gumawa ng 5 School Facts sa buhay mo. Wala na akong pakialam kung totoo man ang mga sasabihin mo o hinde kagaya ng mga kasinungalingang pinagsasabi ko dito. Eh uto uto naman kasi ako kaya wala akong magawa kundi sumunod lang sa pa-utot ng ibang bloggers hehehe. O siya-siyanel… Kung dimo pa nagagawa ito &lt;a href="http://baulninoel.blogspot.com/"&gt;Pareng Noel&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://anthony00.blogspot.com/"&gt;Anthony&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://www.kablogie.com/"&gt;Kablogie&lt;/a&gt; at &lt;a href="http://reyastone.blogspot.com/"&gt;Rhea Stone&lt;/a&gt;, kayo naman ang naka-blog-tag para sa 5 School Facts! Bahala na kayo kung seserysohin niyo tong shiznits nato… hehehe…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ang lolo kong kapitan... bahala na kayong mag-distinguish kung sino ako sa dalawang batang kasama niya!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SolOv7kZNJI/AAAAAAAAADo/m9Qn2x-gMfc/s1600-h/papang+jay+n+me.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370910615967184018" style="WIDTH: 224px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SolOv7kZNJI/AAAAAAAAADo/m9Qn2x-gMfc/s320/papang+jay+n+me.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7713733000419917087-7749733717735307577?l=wattuduyanie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/feeds/7749733717735307577/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7713733000419917087&amp;postID=7749733717735307577&amp;isPopup=true' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/7749733717735307577'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/7749733717735307577'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/2009/08/5-school-facts-na-kabog-nang-ma-tag.html' title='5 School Facts (Na-Kabog nang Ma-Tag)'/><author><name>Yanie's Ka-blags!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11501502004310550922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SU-VzSOLKfI/AAAAAAAAAAM/CJLGeE1rmx0/S220/girlumbrellabanner.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SolOv7kZNJI/AAAAAAAAADo/m9Qn2x-gMfc/s72-c/papang+jay+n+me.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7713733000419917087.post-8962386813035668409</id><published>2009-08-12T14:20:00.013+04:00</published><updated>2009-08-17T21:25:12.369+04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ala Lang'/><title type='text'>Nursery Rhyme ng mga Chenelyn</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SoKj1UsxMFI/AAAAAAAAADY/rrXmzNZJcE8/s1600-h/image001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369033842263928914" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SoKj1UsxMFI/AAAAAAAAADY/rrXmzNZJcE8/s400/image001.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;*BUBUKA ANG BULAKLAK&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Bubukesh ang floweret&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;jojosok ang reynabelz&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;shochurva ng chacha&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;pa jembot jembot fah&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;boom tiyayavush&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;tiyayavush chenes&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;boom tiyayavush&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;tiyayavush chenes&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;______________________________&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;*PEN PEN DE SARAHPEN&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Pen pen de chorvaloo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;de kemerloo de eklavoo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;hao hao de chenelyn&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;de ba yutech&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;si friti dapat iipit&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;goldness-filak&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;chumochorva&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;sa tabi ng chenes&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;shoyang fula&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;talong na fula&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;shoyang fute&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;talong na mapute&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;chuk chak chenes&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;namo uz ek&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;______________________________&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;*TAGU-TAGUAN&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Shogu-shoguan&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;ning ning galore ng buwan&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;pag-counting ng krompu&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;naka shogu na kayey&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;jisa&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;krolawa&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;shotlo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;kyopat&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;jima&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;kyonim&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;nyitoert&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;walochi&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;syamert&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;krompu&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;mga beki&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;andetrax na si atashi&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;______________________________&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;*AKO AY MAY ALAGA&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;aketch may nyologa&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;solang majuba&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;juntot ay majoba&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;majinis ang nyukha&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;halgay niya aketch&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;halgay ko rin siyasi&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;kaya mekey mudwa &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;laging magkajoma&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;______________________________&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;*SAMPUNG MGA DALIRI&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;jompung mga joliri&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;jomay at tiil&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;joluwang jenga&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;joluwang tameyk&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;jilong na magandich&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;majijiit ng ngipin&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;majurap ilafez&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;jilang majiit nagjojobing&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;wag kang magjijinungaling&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;______________________________&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;*INDIAN PANA&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;indian shona&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;shoshona-shona&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;shotlong jitlog&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;jojolog jolog&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;indian jona&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;jojona-jona&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;shotlong jitlog&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;jojolog jolog&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;______________________________&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;*BAHAY KUBO&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;valer kuberch&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;kahit jutay&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;ang julamantrax dochi&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;ay anek anek&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;nyongkamas at nyutring&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;nyogarilyas at kipey&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;nyitaw, nyotaw jutani&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;kundol, jutola&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;jupo't jolabastrax&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;at mega join join pa&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;jubanox, nyustasa&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;nyobuyas, nyomatis&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;nyowang at luyax&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;at around the keme ay&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;fulness ng linga&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;______________________________&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;*AKO AY MAY LOBO&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;akez ay may lobing&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;nag flysung sa heaven&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;wiz ko na na sighting&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;nyomutok na palerz&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;shoyang lang ang adeks&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;pang buysung ng lobing&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;nyuti pa pang lafez&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;nyomusog pa akez&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ikinembot po itech ng sisterrette kong choklavu na si &lt;a href="http://reyastone.blogspot.com/"&gt;Ms. Rhea Stone&lt;/a&gt;... na ikinandirit naman daw sa kanya ng kanyang kwozin na si Jesswaaa... At pwamissss!! Ako'y lokwa lokwa na ngayertsss!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ay johala na nga kayerts sa mga layfz niyoertzzz!!!  (Na-ngongo-erts ako ditech daay)&lt;/div&gt;&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/7713733000419917087-8962386813035668409?l=wattuduyanie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/feeds/8962386813035668409/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7713733000419917087&amp;postID=8962386813035668409&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/8962386813035668409'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/8962386813035668409'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/2009/08/nursery-rhyme-ng-mga-chenelyn.html' title='Nursery Rhyme ng mga Chenelyn'/><author><name>Yanie's Ka-blags!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11501502004310550922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SU-VzSOLKfI/AAAAAAAAAAM/CJLGeE1rmx0/S220/girlumbrellabanner.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SoKj1UsxMFI/AAAAAAAAADY/rrXmzNZJcE8/s72-c/image001.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7713733000419917087.post-1999965678343692916</id><published>2009-08-11T13:35:00.016+04:00</published><updated>2009-11-05T17:38:42.711+04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Nang Lumapot ang Utak'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='In ENGLISH Shiznits'/><title type='text'>Memento Mori (O ang huling habilin ni Yanie)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SoFxHEm_ewI/AAAAAAAAADI/dh3qBCg3eCQ/s1600-h/image01.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368696597112650498" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 390px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 393px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SoFxHEm_ewI/AAAAAAAAADI/dh3qBCg3eCQ/s400/image01.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SoFwmpWz1YI/AAAAAAAAADA/6RtR31lm8s4/s1600-h/image01.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;According to research, the most common cause of death for Filipinas is breast cancer. &lt;em&gt;Will I be one of them?&lt;/em&gt; At the age of 40, my chance of surviving this is going to become slim. Yup, I did try to google how I’m going to die…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I have a short life, I think and I also believe that I’m not going to live long enough to see myself suffer the disease because I’ll never know if I die sleeping tonight. Oh sometimes, I just hope my death is as simple and as painless as that. But when I was young, some psychic foretold that I will breathe my last in the water… well, that’s another thought?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But for now it matters not how I’m going to die. What matters is how I have lived… and honestly, I only want to live without any regrets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A preacher once shared the following “facts” to his congregation. I was among the congregation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He said that the average lifespan of a person is 75 years. If we have lived up to this age, we have spent…&lt;br /&gt;20 years sleeping&lt;br /&gt;14 years working&lt;br /&gt;12 years amusing ourselves with movies, malling, watching TV&lt;br /&gt;7 years eating&lt;br /&gt;5 years riding cars or public transports&lt;br /&gt;4 years in the internet&lt;br /&gt;3 years acquiring solid education (Grade school, High School, College)&lt;br /&gt;3 years reading books, magazines, newspapers&lt;br /&gt;3 years on the telephone&lt;br /&gt;1 year texting&lt;br /&gt;4 months tying our shoe laces&lt;br /&gt;11 months of attending the Sunday Service&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the last bit, you can trim that down to 4 months for me. Tsk! now that I’m thinking about it, I’ve only got 35 years to live… supposedly. But then again, I’ve given myself a deadline to only live up to when I’m 50, after that, would be beyond bonus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So… the crazy me, grabbed a calculator at once and worked out the remaining days of my life. Granting I only live up to 50 years old then I only have like 7,300 days left in the world, that’s 20 years btw.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With this, I would have spent&lt;br /&gt;2,433 days sleeping - that’s 6.7 years because I only sleep 8 hours a day&lt;br /&gt;2,738 days working, that’s 7.5 years&lt;br /&gt;1,520 days - TV, internet, dressing, shaving, phone, texting, malling, spend quality time with the kids &amp;amp; family, reading books, eating &amp;amp; drinking, swearing, fooling around, fighting, writing/blogging, having sex… anyway, that’s 4 years. Bathing and brushing teeth are such big time wasters btw.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I’m left with 610 days of nothing to do. That’s about 1.7 years. But then again… maybe I don’t really have to waste my brain cells thinking about how I’m going to spend this 1.7 years. After all, I don’t even know if I will survive the next 1.7 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just as what Jonathan Nolan said:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;“Everybody is waiting for the end to come, but what if it already passed us by? What if the final joke of Judgment Day was that it had already come and gone and we were none the wiser? Apocalypse arrives quietly; the chosen are herded off to heaven, and the rest of us, the ones who failed the test, just keep on going, oblivious. Dead already, wandering around long after the gods have stopped keeping score, still optimistic about the future. I guess if that's true, then it doesn't matter what you do. No expectations.”&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, at this very second, after contemplating on how I might die and lived for that matter… the next plan on my mind is on how I want my funeral service be organized. You just can’t stop me planning eh? Hahaha! And that of course would be minus 3 days in my 50-year life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously, there are only 2 occasions that I get super emotional with… &lt;strong&gt;Weddings and Funerals&lt;/strong&gt;. (That’s minus 2 months in my life.) I wish I could talk more about weddings but my moment is at my funeral right now. And I’m imagining that somehow it will be as how I describe it below.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;No coffin.&lt;/strong&gt; I would of course expect my loved ones to be a bit creative by probably surrounding me with flowers just like how they do it in the medieval times?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;No gown.&lt;/strong&gt; My whole body will be wrapped with a fine satin cloth preferably colored green (lightest as possible) because that’s my favorite color. My face will be covered with a transparent cloth. So I won’t look like a mummy at least. The one thing I hate most during funerals is the smell of the cadaver. Most times, the dead smell too much of that embalming odor and that really creeps me out. I want to smell as pleasant as my favorite perfume during my wake (and that would be the Burberry Classic, you can call that shameless promotion, anyway it’s free and besides I’d be dead, remember?) I won’t be as beautiful as Murrin in the movie Braveheart when she was buried, but I want to make a remarkable impression even on the last days of my remains on earth. I want to be an inspiration, just like how she became an inspiration to William Wallace. Yap even in death I still dream…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;No tributes.&lt;/strong&gt; Although I know that no people would hate me when I’m dead, just because I believe I am a good person inside and out (thinking if this is true?) but I don’t also want people saying the nicest things about me during my funeral service (ang plastic kasi weh). Instead, I want my good friends to read my poems and stories and play the songs I loved… like “Sinta” by Aegis… Bohemian Rhapsody, “I Will Survive” by Gloria Gaynor, and countless more!!! That would be one long service…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;It’ll only be 1 day&lt;/strong&gt;. My wake will only be for 1 day… But if I get extended, I think 3 days would be long enough. Can I add on a “Please” to that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And after that, &lt;strong&gt;can I be cremated?&lt;/strong&gt; It would be nice to think that the people who had “genuinely” and “unconditionally” loved a crazy fool like me will bring home with them a small urn with my ashes. (Small, because I’m thinking there are countless of you who’d ask for it and my ashes won’t be enough for each one) So that in case you run out of sugar or salt, you can at least have some use of it… Sorry, I really don’t know what a cadaver ash tastes like. (he-he)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My point really is… It would nice to know that my loved ones have never wanted me to leave them. When I was alive (not that I’m already dead) my happiest moment is always when I feel loved and being wanted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can’t believe I’m even taking this so seriously. It doesn’t matter for me anyway because I won’t see these happen by then. I never wanted to be someone’s cause of sadness, that’s why I’m hoping to be remembered as someone who had put a smile on a person’s face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don’t know how I’m gonna die. But who really knows? I don't wish to rest in peace when the time comes for me to go... I wish more of that for the people I'll leave behind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;strong&gt;Memento Mori&lt;/strong&gt; – “&lt;em&gt;Remember, you shall die&lt;/em&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/7713733000419917087-1999965678343692916?l=wattuduyanie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/feeds/1999965678343692916/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7713733000419917087&amp;postID=1999965678343692916&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/1999965678343692916'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/1999965678343692916'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/2009/08/memento-mori-o-ang-huling-habili-ni.html' title='Memento Mori (O ang huling habilin ni Yanie)'/><author><name>Yanie's Ka-blags!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11501502004310550922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SU-VzSOLKfI/AAAAAAAAAAM/CJLGeE1rmx0/S220/girlumbrellabanner.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SoFxHEm_ewI/AAAAAAAAADI/dh3qBCg3eCQ/s72-c/image01.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7713733000419917087.post-4862360315993742081</id><published>2009-08-10T14:25:00.004+04:00</published><updated>2009-08-17T21:24:12.697+04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ala Lang'/><title type='text'>Mga kababayan at bayan ko, basahin n'yo</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Tula ni Joey De Leon&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(The Philippine Star) Updated August 09, 2009 12:00 AM&lt;br /&gt;The funeral cortege of former Pres. Cory Aquino: My tears came naturally&lt;br /&gt;MANILA, Philippines&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wala na sa piling ng mga Pilipino,&lt;br /&gt;Tinig ng awiting Mga Kababayan Ko,&lt;br /&gt;At lumisan na rin noong isang Sabado,&lt;br /&gt;Inang nagpalipad sa awiting Bayan Ko.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ako’y sumasaludo, paalam Pangulo,&lt;br /&gt;May isa ‘kong lihim, kay tagal itinago,&lt;br /&gt;Sa lahat nang inabot kong mga namuno,&lt;br /&gt;Tanging ikaw lang sa luha ko’y nagpatulo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Marami ang nalungkot sa iyong pagyao,&lt;br /&gt;Magalang ang lahat at puno ng respeto,&lt;br /&gt;Nagpasalamat pa nga Kapamilya sa ‘yo,&lt;br /&gt;Dahil kanilang himpilan naibalik mo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Subalit ano itong nabalitaan ko?&lt;br /&gt;Nangyari noong Lunes, a-tres ng Agosto,&lt;br /&gt;Habang inililipat ang mga labi mo,&lt;br /&gt;Ika’y parang nabastos sa isang TV show.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At ang napakasaklap at masakit dito,&lt;br /&gt;Ang nambastos pa’y kapamilya ng anak mo,&lt;br /&gt;Napanood ito ng tao at publiko,&lt;br /&gt;Kakaunti na nga, ngunit lahat nahilo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sabi ng TV host na mainit ang ulo&lt;br /&gt;Pagkakita sa video na kanyang kasalo,&lt;br /&gt;“Sandali, meron akong ano… sa’ting ano…&lt;br /&gt;Hindi naman sa ano,” nagkaanu-ano!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ayon sa Internet, meron pa s’yang nasambit,&lt;br /&gt;“Sana pakitanggal muna ‘yan sa’ting traffic…”&lt;br /&gt;At ‘di maaalis sa iyong pag-iisip,&lt;br /&gt;Ang parada ng patay ang pinaliligpit!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At dagdag pa daw ng naghahari-harian,&lt;br /&gt;“I don’t think na dapat n’yong ipakita iyan…”&lt;br /&gt;Nasaan naman ang paggalang, o nasaan?&lt;br /&gt;Mga sinasabi natin minsa’y pag-ingatan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At ‘di pa nangimi nang sumunod na araw,&lt;br /&gt;Pinilit pa ring ginawa n’ya ay tama raw,&lt;br /&gt;Mga nakarinig ‘di na nakagalaw&lt;br /&gt;At ayon sa iba sila na la’y napa-wow!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“… Pero ako, totoo ‘ko eh … “, sabi kuno,&lt;br /&gt;Totoo nga at totoo ring walang modo,&lt;br /&gt;Pwede namang sabihin itong pa-sikreto,&lt;br /&gt;Kaya’t wala na rin mga paliwanag mo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Kung ganyan, pakita na lang ‘yan!”, ang hamon pa,&lt;br /&gt;Para bang ang prusisyon nila-“lang - lang” lang ba,&lt;br /&gt;Ang pangasiwaan ay pinapili pa n’ya,&lt;br /&gt;Sumunod ang himpilan, nung August 5 wala s’ya.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;May mga komentong pwede nang pang-harapan,&lt;br /&gt;“On camera” baga sa TV ang tawag d’yan&lt;br /&gt;At kung sensitibo man ang gustong bitawan,&lt;br /&gt;Pagpasok ng commercial, hintayin mo na lang.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Matutong magbaba muna ng mikropono&lt;br /&gt;At saka idikta lahat ng iyong gusto,&lt;br /&gt;Lagi kang mataas lahat daw takot sa ‘yo,&lt;br /&gt;Ratings lang ang mababa — totoo ba ito?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The breaking news breaks your heart — at ‘yan ang bawi mo,&lt;br /&gt;Nang mahalata mong sumablay ang pasok mo,&lt;br /&gt;Pero sigurado ika’y maa-abswelto,&lt;br /&gt;‘Di ba ikaw rin ang may-ari ng network n’yo?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nung Hueves nag-apologize sa diario naman,&lt;br /&gt;O, akala ko ba wala kang kasalanan,&lt;br /&gt;Tapos ng angalan, sunod paliwanagan —&lt;br /&gt;COMPLAIN before you EXPLAIN ka na naman!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O ito kaya ay isa na namang “glitch” lang,&lt;br /&gt;Tulad ng “two-zero” ‘di na natin nalaman,&lt;br /&gt;O ito ay maliwanag na kabobohan?&lt;br /&gt;Sa tingin ng marami, mahirap lusutan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ang sabi ng iba — istupidong mayabang,&lt;br /&gt;At giit ng iba — istupidong mayaman,&lt;br /&gt;Mayaman man o mayabang ang tiyak diyan,&lt;br /&gt;Napakayaman n’ya sa kaistupiduhan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Buti pa ang apat na honor guards ni Cory —&lt;br /&gt;Sina Malab, Laguindan, Rodriguez, Cadiente,&lt;br /&gt;Walong oras tumayo sa ulan at viaje,&lt;br /&gt;Ang lahat ay tiniis at walang sinabi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Samantalang ikaw na may bubong sa ulo,&lt;br /&gt;Komportable ka lang sa malamig na studio,&lt;br /&gt;Nang kapirasong libing sa TV sumalo,&lt;br /&gt;Angal at inis ang sumambulat sa iyo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maaari din namang pabayaan na s’ya,&lt;br /&gt;Subalit ang nangyari’y mabigat talaga,&lt;br /&gt;Namayapang pangulo’y huling paalam na,&lt;br /&gt;‘Di mo pa pinagbigyan … hoy, nag-iisa ka!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At nais ko lang sabihin at ipagyabang&lt;br /&gt;Sa mahigit na s’yam na libong tanghalian,&lt;br /&gt;Sa limang pangulong sa Bulaga’y dumaan,&lt;br /&gt;Kahit isa wala kaming nilapastangan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Para sa iba pang opinion at videos, click lamang itong &lt;a href="http://utaknidrake.blogspot.com/2009/08/eh-kung-sya-kaya-ang-mamatay.html"&gt;link&lt;/a&gt; sa blog ni DRAKE&lt;br /&gt;Ang tula naman pong ito ay ibinahagi ni G. &lt;a href="http://amostarana.blogspot.com/"&gt;Amos Tarana&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7713733000419917087-4862360315993742081?l=wattuduyanie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/feeds/4862360315993742081/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7713733000419917087&amp;postID=4862360315993742081&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/4862360315993742081'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/4862360315993742081'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/2009/08/mga-kababayan-at-bayan-ko-basahin-nyo.html' title='Mga kababayan at bayan ko, basahin n&apos;yo'/><author><name>Yanie's Ka-blags!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11501502004310550922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SU-VzSOLKfI/AAAAAAAAAAM/CJLGeE1rmx0/S220/girlumbrellabanner.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7713733000419917087.post-7049162206869916765</id><published>2009-08-09T11:41:00.006+04:00</published><updated>2009-08-09T12:21:26.643+04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sh**s I Made for Songs I Like'/><title type='text'>Maturugen</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Matagal na pala akong nagba-blog??? Nahalukay ko yung lumang blogsite ko sa isang social network at di ako makapaniwalang naisulat ko pala ito noong March 7, 2007. Share ko lang. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dito sa Dubai, isa sa mga naging mailap na parte ng buhay ko ay ang pagtulog. Ewan ko sa inyo… pero ikaw ba naman ang mang-iwan ng pamilya mo sa Pinas para magtrabaho sa "deserted" land na to. Na sabi nila ang "ganda ganda". Pero sabi ko "ganda" lang, kasi kung "&lt;em&gt;ganda ganda&lt;/em&gt;" eh siguro amerika na yun o canada o paris. ewan i’ve never been there… pero para sa akin, "ganda" lang talaga ang dubai.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pinarinig sa akin ng kaibigan ko ang kantang to nung nag iisa pa lamang ako dito sa deserted land. ewan ko ba bakit ngayon bigla akong nagkaron ng craving na hanapin sa internet ang MP3 neto’t gumawa pa ng blog tungkol dito. alam niyo ba kung bakit? ano bang nasa kantang to?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nung isang araw, yung isang kaibigan ko, well actually yung ampon ko na taga sharjah, nakitulog sa bahay, tumabi sa kin (at sa mga surot namin). sabe habang nagsu-surot hunting daw siya (habang tulog na ang lahat, ala una ng madaling araw) eh namalayan niya akong nananaginip at nagha-hum. Ito yung hina-hum ko pati sa panaginip. Dahil siguro kapag pinapatulog ko mga junanaks ko eh kinakanta ko to. Diko alam lyrics pero tandang tanda ko ang rhythm. At siguro pag ako’y kinuha na ni Lord, dahil sobrang nagpapakabait ako lately (joke!) eh sana kantahin niyo tong kantang to para sa akin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;(FYI... 2-years na akong nagpapaka-bait, haay, tagal nun, na-keri ko? For sure daming tataas ang kilay... kiber! har har har)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tulog Na by: Sugarfree&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="313" width="384"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/WXiYzH0b4Gg&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/WXiYzH0b4Gg&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="384" height="313" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7713733000419917087-7049162206869916765?l=wattuduyanie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/feeds/7049162206869916765/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7713733000419917087&amp;postID=7049162206869916765&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/7049162206869916765'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/7049162206869916765'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/2009/08/maturugen.html' title='Maturugen'/><author><name>Yanie's Ka-blags!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11501502004310550922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SU-VzSOLKfI/AAAAAAAAAAM/CJLGeE1rmx0/S220/girlumbrellabanner.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7713733000419917087.post-2135723240984970327</id><published>2009-08-06T08:50:00.003+04:00</published><updated>2009-10-01T08:51:10.727+04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ala Lang'/><title type='text'>Melanie Marquez’s quotable quotes</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I coudn’t care a damn!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“What’s your next class before this?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Can you repeat that for the 2nd time around once more?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Hello, my brother Joey is out of town, would you like to wait?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Don’t touch me not!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“You! you’re not a boy anymore! You’re a man anymore!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Hello? For a while. Please hang yourself.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Why should I have a calling card? I’m not a call girl!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“That’s why I’m a success, it’s because I don’t middle in other people’s lives.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Don’t judge my brother; he’s not a book.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I won’t stoop down to my level.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Hello? Bulag ka ba? Bingi ka ba? Are you dep?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Yung STD, baka sa maruming toilet lang niya nakuha yan.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“We are lovers, not fighters.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Kapatid ko pa rin siya. We are one and the same.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I don’t eat meat. I’m not a carnival.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Eto na po ang pinakamaligayang pasko at manigong taon sa inyong lahat.”(During her acceptance speech at a Metro Filmfest awards night where her bioflick,directed by her late father Temyong Marquez, won an award.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Sumasakit ang migraine ko.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Ang tatay ko ang only living legend na buhay!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Period na talaga; wala nang exclamation point.”(When asked on S-Files if her present husband, Adam Lawyer, is her Mr. Right.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Oo nga”, said Melanie,”pero I-English-in ko para maintindihan niya.” Then Melanie looked into the camera and, with the peremptoriness of royalty, she said, “And to you, Mrs Dee, I have two words for you. Ang labo mo!”.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Dont worry little angel, big angel is here”.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“He should be put behind bar”. You can fool me once, you can fool me twice, you can fool me thrice, but you can never fool me four”.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Nikki, you’re so galing. You should go to the states. You will sell hotcakes”.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“They should talk behind the scene… (on Kris and Joey)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Hindi ba kayo naawa sa kapatid ko… sa mga kwento nya? Di ba kayo na-PERSUAVE ng mga kwento niya? Hindi si Joey ang tipong mambubugbog ng babae… talaga lang malapit siya sa mga gulo… PRO-ACCIDENT kasi siya eh.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boy Abunda: O Melanie, paano na ang showbiz career mo ngayong magmo-Mormon ka na?Melanie: Ah okay lang ‘yon Boy, kasi matagal na rin akong SEMI-RETARDED.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“A man’s success is a woman’s behind.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“My husband was born on a silver spoon”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ate Luds: Paano ka nag-susurvive sa mga trials mo?Melanie: Alam mo Ate Ludz, you know, when you are alone, you really have to istep your foot…ah, forward!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“It’s not my problem anymore. It’s their problem anymore.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Melanie Marquez was accosted by a certain guy from a certain TV network. He shouted, “Hey b****,” upon which Melanie turned around and retorted, “Don’t you ever, ever call me…...... hey!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I keep my crown in the voltage.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Well, I want to spend my holidays with my family most probably out of place. ”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Please watch HIRAM starring Aleck Baldwin (referring to Aleck Bovick) and myself.. It’s DIRECTOR by Romy Suzara..” (While she was in Morning Girls With Kris and Korina)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“My answers have been prayered.” (After giving birth, and an interview on The Buzz )&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Hello…Huwag kang tumahol sa sarili mong bakuran noh! You know, huwag kang tumahol like dogs.” (On ex-flame Lito Lapid, in response to being misunderstood)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;napadaan sa site ng &lt;a href="http://www.jokebandit.com/filipino/melanie-marquez-jokes-and-quotes/"&gt;jokebandit&lt;/a&gt; and I just found my new idol *anymore*!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"I'M GONNA DIE... with laughing!!!!"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; - yanie&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7713733000419917087-2135723240984970327?l=wattuduyanie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/feeds/2135723240984970327/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7713733000419917087&amp;postID=2135723240984970327&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/2135723240984970327'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/2135723240984970327'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/2009/08/melanie-marquezs-quotable-quotes.html' title='Melanie Marquez’s quotable quotes'/><author><name>Yanie's Ka-blags!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11501502004310550922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SU-VzSOLKfI/AAAAAAAAAAM/CJLGeE1rmx0/S220/girlumbrellabanner.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7713733000419917087.post-631442844153291817</id><published>2009-08-01T20:37:00.009+04:00</published><updated>2009-08-06T23:23:17.961+04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Para kay &quot;J&quot; - kwentong chop chop'/><title type='text'>Para kay "J" - Chop 4 (Nang pakialaman ko ang malikot na isip ni Ricky Lee, pagkatapos basahin ang kanyang nobelang "Para kay B")</title><content type='html'>Basahin muna&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/2009/07/para-kay-j-part-1-nang-pakialaman-ko.html"&gt;Chop 1&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/2009/07/para-kay-j-chop-2-nang-pakialaman-ko.html"&gt;Chop 2&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/2009/08/para-kay-j-chop-3-nang-pakialaman-ko.html"&gt;Chop 3&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Year 2030&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Pang-ilan na ako?” habang ang mga labi nila’y nagsisiksikan sa isa’t isa ay pilit na pinapasok ni Neia ang isipan ni Ely sa pamamagitan ng pagtatanong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hindi sumagot ang kasama nito na kanina pa nakikipag-gulong gulong sa kanya sa kama. Marahil ay hindi niya narinig ang tanong nito dahil sa lakas ng volume ng TV na buong magdamag nang naka-on. Na siya lamang nagsisilbing ilaw sa madilim na kwartong iyon, bagay na nagbibigay liwanag sa mukha ni Ely upang lalo itong mapagmasdan ni Neia.  Hinawakan niya ang mukha ng lalaki.  Hinaplos ang kanyang pisngi, gamit ang dulo ng kanyang daliri, dumapo ito sa kanyang mga mata, pinakiramdaman niya dito ang nakatagong damdamin. Parang sa isang bulag kung kapain ni Neia ang mukha ng kanyang pinakamamahal.  Hanggang sa ang kamay nito'y nakarating sa labi ni Ely.  Nakapakit pa rin ang lalaki habang ginagawa iyon sa kanya ni Neia.  Ngayon lang niya naramdaman ang ganitong init at ang ganitong pagsuyo.  Hinalikan niya ang mga daliri ni Neia.  Isinubo ang hintuturo nito at ginawang parang kendi.  Hinagkan niya ang mga palad nito patungo sa kanyang kamay... hanggang sa muli'y magtagpo ang kanilang nananabik na labi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“How did you become unfaithful?” muling tanong ni Neia bagaman hindi ito umaasa ng sagot muka rito. Gustong sagutin ng lalaki ang mga tanong nito sa kanya ngunit hindi niya maapuhap sa kanyang natitirang katinuan ang boses para sagutin ito. Nangingibabaw ang kasabikang maiparamdam ang init ng kanyang damdamin. Umaasa na sa pamamagitan nito ay masagot ang lahat ng mga katanungan sa kanya. Habang magkayakap ay tinitigan ni Neia ang mukha ng kanyang kasama. Doo’y nangusap ang kanilang mga mata. At doon di’y hinanap ni Neia ang nakatagong pagkatao ni Ely. Muli’y tahimik lamang ang dalawa. Ito ang unang pagkakataong hindi maipaliwanag ni Ely ang kanyang nararamdaman , sa kabila ng kanyang katalinuhan . Kahit anong pilit niyang gawan ng logic ang nangyayari ay hindi niya magawan ng sense ito. Isa lamang ang nasisiguro niya, masaya siya at parang isang bahagi ng kanyang pagkatao ang bigla niyang naipamigay nang di niya nagawan ng calculations, equations at feasibility study.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sa kabilang banda’y nanginginig naman ang buong katawan ni Neia. Hindi niya malaman kung dahilan ito ng lamig na bugso ng aircon sa kwartong iyon o dahil tumigil na ang kanyang puso sa pagsusuplay ng dugo sa kanyang katawan. Tumigil din ang mundo ni Neia ng gabing iyon. Parang wala nang bukas at parang gusto na lang niyang magkulong sa kwartong nagsilbing panandaliang paraiso para sa kanya.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hindi pa niya nararanasan ang ganito. Para siyang isang tuta na nakawala sa kagubatan. Ngunit kung kumahol ay parang lobo, walang pakialam kung may makarinig na mangangaso at siya’y hulihin o di kaya’y barilin. Sa isang kagubatang minsan niyang naging tahanan ngunit matagal na niyang linisan at ngayo’y kanyang binabalikan. Kasama ang leon na nanahan ng matagal sa kagubatang iyon. Leon na nagma-may-ari sa lahat. Pati ng kanyang mga ala-ala at nakaraan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Pinangarap ko rin ba ito?” tanong naman ngayon ni Neia sa kanyang sarili. Hindi tumigil ang kanyang utak sa pagda-digest ng mga nangyayari. Kahit hindi niya ito maintindihan, gusto niya itong i-record sa kanyang memory. Alam kasi niyang, babalikan niya ito.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Habang tumatagal ay nagiging mapangahas ang paglilingkisan ng dalawa. Kumawala na parang bulkan ang alab sa katawan ni Neia. Init na matagal nang nakakubli sa kanyang kasalukuyang pamumuhay. Init na kay Ely rin lamang niya naramdaman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“C’mon, f***…!!! ” hindi sanay sa pagmumura si Neia. Ngunit kay Ely kumawala ang pagiging maldita nito. Nasusugat na ang mga labi nito dahil sa pagkagat. Kailangan niyang gawin yon upang hindi siya sumigaw. “Don’t stop!, please…. don’t stop” sa gitna ng pag-indayog ng kanilang katawan, nakukuha niyang ibulong dito ang mga nais na gawin ni Ely sa kanya. Lumaban siya sa mga halik ni Ely. And this time kailangan naman niya ipakita rito ang natutunan niya sa kama sa loob ng maraming panahong kinalimutan niya ang ganitong hindi maipaliwanag na sarap. Bumangon siya’t itinulak pahiga si Ely. Siya naman ngayon ang nakaupo sa hubad at pawisang katawan ng lalaki.  Sinimulan ni Neia ang paghalik ng buong tamis sa tenga ni Ely, humaplos sa kanyang leeg ang mga labi nito at habang ang mga mata’y nakapikit, parang may magnet na pinagtatagpo ang labi niya sa labi ng lalaki. Nasa isip nito ang mga katagang “I love you… I have loved you my whole life” Ngunit sa di maipaliwanag na dahilan ay di niya kayang sabihin ito. Makalibong beses na tinangka niyang sabihin ito kay Ely, ngunit hindi mailabas ang tamang mga salita.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Sana maramdaman mo sa mga halik ko sa labi mo sa tenga mo at sa pagkalalaki mo. Sana maiparating ko sayo na mahal kita, ikaw lang noon at hanggang ngayon.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ngunit hindi niya masabi yon. Bagkus ang mga katagang “C'mon, faster...” ang paulit ulit niyang binibigkas, ayaw niyang paawat. Pilit na naghahabol ang lahat ng naipong libog sa katawan nito na hindi niya mapaniwalaang nasa kanya pala. Hanggang sa hindi na niya makayanan ang tamis at wala na siyang magawa kundi ihalo ito sa pawis na walang tigil na tumatagaktak sa kanilang katawan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sa tanang buhay niya’y hindi ito na-foresee ni Neia na mangyayari. Mataas ang paghanga at pagtingin niya kay Ely. Ni hindi nito kailanman naisip na makakasama niya ang taong ito sa isang kwarto. Oo nga’t nangarap itong mapangasawa siya pero nakakabit na dito ang ka-impobsilehang mangyari ito. Nabuhay siya sa pangarap na iyon ngunit mulat ang kaisipang hindi iyon kailanman mangyayari. Kaya ngayo’y ang pakiramdam niya ay parang isang artista na gumagawa lamang ng pelikula.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Cut” ang sabi ng director… sabay dugtong ng “Good take, pack up na!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Naiwan si Neia sa kwartong iyon na nakatulala. Hindi makapaniwala. Ilang beses na niyang inalog ang ulo, sinubukan pating kurutin ang sarili at bahagyang sinampal ang pisngi, nagbabakasakaling magising siya sa isang panaginip. Ngunit nandun pa rin siyang pilit na iniintindi kung ano ang ibig sabihin ng mga pangyayaring totoo ngang naganap. Nandoon pa rin ang maingay na TV, ang malamig na AC, at ang napakanipis na kumot na nagsilbing mga saksi ng pagniniig ng dalawang taong sabik. Kasabikang hindi maipaliwanag ni Neia. Kasabikang sana’y katumbas din nang kay Ely. Ang pakiramdam niya ngayon ay para siyang dinala ni Ely sa buwan, isang hindi maipaliwanag na karanasan. Ngunit nang sumigaw ang director ay para siyang na-alimpungatan. At isinunod ang isang katanungang alam niyang hindi na naman kayang sagutin miski ng pinakamatalinong taong nakilala niya.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Iyon na lang ba yun?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...itutuloy&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7713733000419917087-631442844153291817?l=wattuduyanie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/feeds/631442844153291817/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7713733000419917087&amp;postID=631442844153291817&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/631442844153291817'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/631442844153291817'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/2009/08/para-kay-j-chop-4-nang-pakialaman-ko.html' title='Para kay &quot;J&quot; - Chop 4 (Nang pakialaman ko ang malikot na isip ni Ricky Lee, pagkatapos basahin ang kanyang nobelang &quot;Para kay B&quot;)'/><author><name>Yanie's Ka-blags!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11501502004310550922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SU-VzSOLKfI/AAAAAAAAAAM/CJLGeE1rmx0/S220/girlumbrellabanner.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7713733000419917087.post-1885278054155894351</id><published>2009-08-01T20:20:00.008+04:00</published><updated>2009-08-06T23:25:55.515+04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Para kay &quot;J&quot; - kwentong chop chop'/><title type='text'>Para kay "J" - Chop 3 (Nang pakialaman ko ang malikot na isip ni Ricky Lee, pagkatapos basahin ang kanyang nobelang "Para kay B")</title><content type='html'>...Basahin muna&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/2009/07/para-kay-j-part-1-nang-pakialaman-ko.html"&gt;Chop 1&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/2009/07/para-kay-j-chop-2-nang-pakialaman-ko.html"&gt;chop 2&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Year 2015&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alam ni Neia na hindi siya kailanman bibigyan ng pansin ni Ely. Kinse anyos pa lamang siya noon at si Ely ay twenty one na . Sino ba naman ang hindi magkakagusto kay Ely eh bukod sa gwapo na, siya lang naman ang kauna-unahang Pilipino na nagpunta sa buwan. Oo, gifted si Ely. Isa siyang henyo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sinong babae ang hindi maghahabol sa kanya? Hindi Brad Pitt o Shia LaBeouf ang katumbas ng kasikatan ni Ely at lalong hindi John Lloyd. Si Ely ang klase ng lalakeng habang iginagalang mo ay ipapaskil ang picture sa iyong kwarto. Isang tunay na inspirasyon, gagawan ng clippings lahat ng achievements sa buhay, i-save sa hard drive lahat ng interviews niya, lahat ng documentary tungkol sa kanya at babalik-balikan para basahin at panoorin. Mahihiya kang magpa-autograph because he is not up to these kind of shits. Hindi mo rin gagayahin ang suot nito, o gagamitin ang mga sabon o deodorant na ine-endorse niya kung mage-endorse man dahil mas madalas baduy itong manamit at lalong hindi maarte sa katawan. Hindi nga yata uso ang pag-ligo sa kanya. Ngunit lahat ng ito’y kino-complement ng kanyang katalinuhan. Kahit man ganito ang binata’y hinangaan siya ng sobra ni Neia. Hindi niya alam kung bakit sa kabila ng pagiging suplado nito, at may pagka-maangas, hindi pa rin naging simpleng tagahanga ni Ely si Neia. Marahil ay dahil naging malapitang saksi ang dalaga sa lahat ng kasikatang tinatamasa nito, o maari ring dahil nakasama niya ito sa pagiging bata ngunit mas malamang na dahil ito talaga ang itinitibok ng kanyang puso miski pa man nung musmos pa lamang siya.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Genius si Ely. Kahit sabihing hindi napag-aralan ang IQ scale ni Einstein pero sa lahat ng mga articles patungkol sa kanya, naka-hambing palagi ang katalinuhan niya sa taong itinuturing na pinakamatalinong taong nabuhay sa mundo. 8 years old siya nang matutunan niyang mag-assemble ng computer. Nag dis-assemble at nang-upgrade ng PSP. Working siyempre, at first try. 10 years old siya ay nakapag-conceptualize at nakapag-program na ito ng mga online games na siyang kinahuhumalingan ng mga kabataan hanggang ngayon. And 10 years after, isa na nga siya sa mga pinakatanyag na tao sa mundo bilang kauna-unahang Pilipinong naglakbay papuntang buwan. Sa edad na disi otso napabilang na si Ely sa grupo ng mga Aircraft Designer Scientists na bumubuo ng rocket ships. Space tourism is now the in-thing. Pero siyempre mga super rich na tao lang ang nakaka-afford nito. Si Ely ang isa sa mga nag-operate ng Atlantis-13 na nagdala kay Sam Branson sa buwan. At si Ely nga ang kauna-unahang Pilipino na nakatapak doon. Isang malaking karangalan para sa bansa. At isang daang milyang layo para sa katuparan ng pangarap ni Neia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most of the girls ay intimidated sa katalinuhan ni Ely. Kaya’t nasanay siya na panay matatanda ang kahalubilo nito. Di siya sanay makipag-biruan, tipid palagi ang ngiti pati na ang pakiki-pag-usap. Ngunit palaging may nakatagong misteryo sa mga mata nito. At ito ang palaging huma-haunt sa isipan ni Neia. Kahit na palaging sa TV lang niya ito nakikita. Hindi ang katanyagan nito, hindi ang kanyang ka-guwapuhan ang humalina sa kanya kundi ang mga kaisipan sa likod ng mga matang iyon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Magkapitbahay sina Neia at Ely. Bago pa man napagtanto ng kanyang mga magulang na isa siyang gifted child, naging magka-laro ang mga ito ng mga computer games sa bahay nila. Noong panahong iyon habang ang linalaro ni Ely ay mga computer chips, si Neia lamang ang may lakas loob na makipag-laro dito. Kadalasan ay pumupunta ito sa bahay nila, magdadala ng sangkaterbang dahon, at i-imagine na pera ang mga dahong yon na pambili niya ng mga binebenta nitong chocolate “chips”. Maliban sa kanya’y panay mga matatanda na ang naging kalaro nito. Ang buy and sell na yun ay ang pinaka-weird na laro para kay Ely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Habang nagdadalaga ay naramdaman na ni Neia ang mahiya sa binata. Hanggang sa pakiramdam niya ay nakalimutan na nga siya ng kababata bunsod na rin ng kasikatan nito. Nagpatuloy ang buhay para sa kanya. Nagpatuloy sa pag-aaral habang si Ely ay lalong namamayagpag sa kanyang kasikatan. Naging matalinong bata rin si Neia at hindi naikubli ang kanyang kahusayan sa pagsusulat. Magmula nang matuto siyang magsulat at mag-isip ay hindi na nawala ang journals sa tabi niya, sa bag niya at kahit san siya magpunta ay dala dala niya ito. At doon nga’y ibunuhos niya lahat ng nakatagong damdamin para kay Ely. Kung ano ang suot nito nang araw na mapanood niya ito sa TV. O kung ano ang mga sasabihin nito kapag nagkita sila. At kung magbakasyon ang sikat na binata sa kanilang lugar, inspirado itong magsulat ng mga fairy-tale love stories na palaging si Ely ang main character nito. Nakadetalye ang mga oras kung kelan niya ito natanaw sa kanilang bahay. Lalong lalo na nang nagkita sila at tumango ang binata sa kanya tanda ng pagbati nito. Parang langit ang pakiramdam niya ng araw na iyon. “Haay, he still knows me and I feel great” May 28… ito ang entry niya sa kanyang journal. “After so many years, this is the first time I was able to see those haunting eyes again… and it has not changed. ” Ang mga journals na iyon ang naging saksi ng mga pangarap ni Neia sa buhay, kabilang na ang isang imposibleng hangarin na makasama habang buhay ang isang taong pinangalanan niyang ”J” sa mga kwadernong iyon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... to be continued - &lt;a href="http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/2009/08/para-kay-j-chop-4-nang-pakialaman-ko.html"&gt;chop 4&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7713733000419917087-1885278054155894351?l=wattuduyanie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/feeds/1885278054155894351/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7713733000419917087&amp;postID=1885278054155894351&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/1885278054155894351'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/1885278054155894351'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/2009/08/para-kay-j-chop-3-nang-pakialaman-ko.html' title='Para kay &quot;J&quot; - Chop 3 (Nang pakialaman ko ang malikot na isip ni Ricky Lee, pagkatapos basahin ang kanyang nobelang &quot;Para kay B&quot;)'/><author><name>Yanie's Ka-blags!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11501502004310550922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SU-VzSOLKfI/AAAAAAAAAAM/CJLGeE1rmx0/S220/girlumbrellabanner.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7713733000419917087.post-8138081207688917497</id><published>2009-07-31T22:44:00.004+04:00</published><updated>2009-08-02T20:12:02.616+04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Para kay &quot;J&quot; - kwentong chop chop'/><title type='text'>Para kay "J" - Chop 2 (Nang pakialaman ko ang malikot na isip ni Ricky Lee, pagkatapos basahin ang kanyang nobelang "Para kay B")</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/2009/07/para-kay-j-part-1-nang-pakialaman-ko.html"&gt;(...basahin muna ang chop 1)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dina matandaan ni Neia ang ilan sa mga sumunod na pangyayari matapos ang pagtatalong iyon ng kanyang puso at utak. Para bagang naipako na ito sa kanyang kinauupuan na ang tanging nakatakip sa kanyang munting pangangatawan ay ang unan ng hotel na yon. Ilang beses niyang ipinilig ang kanyang ulo… pilit na ibinabalik ang kanyang katinuan. Pilit na iniintindi kung ano ang ibig sabihin ng mga pangyayaring kagaganap lamang sa loob ng kwartong iyon. Ngunit ilan sa mga pangyayari ang hindi niya basta basta na lang makakalimutan at iyon ay parang isang gasgas na DVD na pabalik balik sa mga scenes na yun. Paulit ulit pa ring nagpe-play sa kanyang utak, pwede niyang i-pause, ngunit hindi niya ma-stop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;a href="http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/2009/08/para-kay-j-chop-3-nang-pakialaman-ko.html"&gt;chop &lt;/a&gt;3&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7713733000419917087-8138081207688917497?l=wattuduyanie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/feeds/8138081207688917497/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7713733000419917087&amp;postID=8138081207688917497&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/8138081207688917497'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/8138081207688917497'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/2009/07/para-kay-j-chop-2-nang-pakialaman-ko.html' title='Para kay &quot;J&quot; - Chop 2 (Nang pakialaman ko ang malikot na isip ni Ricky Lee, pagkatapos basahin ang kanyang nobelang &quot;Para kay B&quot;)'/><author><name>Yanie's Ka-blags!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11501502004310550922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SU-VzSOLKfI/AAAAAAAAAAM/CJLGeE1rmx0/S220/girlumbrellabanner.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7713733000419917087.post-8666199548738989874</id><published>2009-07-31T01:44:00.009+04:00</published><updated>2009-07-31T22:52:14.751+04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Para kay &quot;J&quot; - kwentong chop chop'/><title type='text'>Para kay "J" - Chop 1 (Nang pakialaman ko ang malikot na isip ni Ricky Lee, pagkatapos basahin ang kanyang nobelang "Para kay B")</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SnIsWG764mI/AAAAAAAAAC4/O2NBF8F1DZs/s1600-h/autoscale-160.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364398864482361954" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 160px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 215px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SnIsWG764mI/AAAAAAAAAC4/O2NBF8F1DZs/s320/autoscale-160.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Year 2030&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First time ko. Napapamura ako sa takot. Diko alam ang gagawin ko sa mga sitwasyong ganito. Para akong isang basang sisiw na hindi mapakali sa kanyang lungga. Tatayo at saka uupo sa kama. Balisa. Pilit kong pinipigilan ang aking mga paa na gustong gusto nang umalis sa kwartong iyon. Para bagang mas gusto pa ng mga itong mauna na sa katawan ko. “Hoy paa… magtigil ka” pakiusap ng aking isip.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nabigla ako nang parang naulinigan kong may sumagot sa pakikipag-usap ko sa aking paa. “Hinay hinay lang.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Huh?” Liningon ko ang aking balikat. Wala namang tao roon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Siguraduhin mong alam mo ang ginagawa mo” Bigkas muli ng kung sino mang nandoon din sa kwartong iyon. Muli ako’y napalingon. Tumayo na ako at nag-umpisa nang kabahan. Nang napagtanto kong mag-isa ko lamang sa kwartong iyon, na-realize kong ang isip ko pala ang nakikipag-usap sa akin. At sa palagay ko, puso ko ang kinakausap nito.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Sorry” Parang ito ang isinagot ng aking puso. “Kailangan kong gawin ito.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Isipin mo nga muna kung paano ka napunta dito?” Tanong ng isip ko sa aking puso. Alam ng aking puso na pinipilit lamang siyang linlangin ng nasa itaas niya.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Wag mo na akong lituhin pa…” Muling isinagot nito. ‘Sigurado na ako sa gagawin ko” sagot ni Puso.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Baka naman mali ka. Baka naman may iba pa siyang intensiyon sayo? Baka hindi ito ang gusto niyang mangyari” Nagpapaka-rational na naman ang aking isip. Gaya ng dati. Laging nagbibigay ng benefit of the doubt. Laging may “baka”, palaging, “oy-stop-look-and-listen”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Brainie…, I might be wrong… but I am ready for the aftermath”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Okay, ikaw ang bahala. Lagi namang ikaw ang nasusunod eh” ang huling kataga ng aking isip, tanda ng pagsuko nito laban sa aking puso.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/2009/07/para-kay-j-chop-2-nang-pakialaman-ko.html"&gt;...chop 2&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&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/7713733000419917087-8666199548738989874?l=wattuduyanie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/feeds/8666199548738989874/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7713733000419917087&amp;postID=8666199548738989874&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/8666199548738989874'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/8666199548738989874'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/2009/07/para-kay-j-part-1-nang-pakialaman-ko.html' title='Para kay &quot;J&quot; - Chop 1 (Nang pakialaman ko ang malikot na isip ni Ricky Lee, pagkatapos basahin ang kanyang nobelang &quot;Para kay B&quot;)'/><author><name>Yanie's Ka-blags!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11501502004310550922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SU-VzSOLKfI/AAAAAAAAAAM/CJLGeE1rmx0/S220/girlumbrellabanner.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SnIsWG764mI/AAAAAAAAAC4/O2NBF8F1DZs/s72-c/autoscale-160.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7713733000419917087.post-3765263117838882023</id><published>2009-07-28T22:42:00.008+04:00</published><updated>2009-11-05T17:39:05.967+04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sh**s I Made for Songs I Like'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='In ENGLISH Shiznits'/><title type='text'>I Try - Macy Gray</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/qsTk2xp0nvY&amp;amp;hl=" width="445" height="364" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" fs="1&amp;amp;rel=" color1="0xe1600f&amp;amp;color2=" border="1" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Games, changes and fears&lt;br /&gt;When will they go from here&lt;br /&gt;When will they stop&lt;br /&gt;I believe that fate has brought us here&lt;br /&gt;And we should be together babe&lt;br /&gt;But we're not&lt;br /&gt;I play it off but I'm dreamin of you&lt;br /&gt;I'll keep my cool but I'm fiendin.&lt;br /&gt;I try to say goodbye and I choke&lt;br /&gt;I try to walk away and I stumble&lt;br /&gt;Though I try to hide it it's clear&lt;br /&gt;My world crumbles when you are not near&lt;br /&gt;Goodbye and I choke&lt;br /&gt;I try to walk away and I stumble&lt;br /&gt;Though I try to hide it, it's clear&lt;br /&gt;My world crumbles when you are not near&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I may appear to be free&lt;br /&gt;But I'm just a prisoner of your love&lt;br /&gt;I may seem alright and smile when you leave&lt;br /&gt;But my smiles are just a front (just a front)&lt;br /&gt;I play it off but I'm dreamin of you&lt;br /&gt;I'll keep my cool but I'm fiendin&lt;br /&gt;I try to say goodbye and I choke&lt;br /&gt;I try to walk away and I stumble&lt;br /&gt;Though I try to hide it it's clear&lt;br /&gt;My world crumbles when you are not near&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is my confession&lt;br /&gt;May I be your possesion&lt;br /&gt;Boy I need your touch&lt;br /&gt;Your love kisses and such&lt;br /&gt;With all my might I try&lt;br /&gt;But this I can't deny (deny)&lt;br /&gt;I play it off but im dreamin of you&lt;br /&gt;I'll keep my cool but I'm fiendin&lt;br /&gt;I try to say good bye and I choke&lt;br /&gt;I try to walk away and I stumble&lt;br /&gt;Though I try to hide it it's clear&lt;br /&gt;My world crumbles when you are not near&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Yanie's Version&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Love was broken&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;sadness has sanked in&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I have to walk away&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;but I always stumble&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I hid the pain&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Yes, even tried to smile&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I have to walk away&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;But you're always on my mind&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I may have choked and stumbled&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;But I did walk away...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I still have my cool&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And now I'm no longer hiding&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Your kisses nor your touch&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I'm no longer longing&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;The world has really crumbled&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;When you were not near&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I guess it's just time&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;to uncover my front smile&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;and turn the world upside down&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;and make you start fiendin'&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7713733000419917087-3765263117838882023?l=wattuduyanie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/feeds/3765263117838882023/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7713733000419917087&amp;postID=3765263117838882023&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/3765263117838882023'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/3765263117838882023'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/2009/07/i-try-macy-gray.html' title='I Try - Macy Gray'/><author><name>Yanie's Ka-blags!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11501502004310550922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SU-VzSOLKfI/AAAAAAAAAAM/CJLGeE1rmx0/S220/girlumbrellabanner.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7713733000419917087.post-1209846107960964238</id><published>2009-07-20T16:53:00.015+04:00</published><updated>2009-10-01T08:47:47.079+04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Nang Lumapot ang Utak'/><title type='text'>Alabyu...</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;sa tingin ko medyo matanda na ako para malaman kung gaano kabigat ang responsibility na nakaatang sa tatlong salitang ito. para sa akin, hindi ito ang klase ng mga salitang pwede mo lang i-take for granted at babawiin kung hindi mo feel. Hindi ito parang kanin na kapag napaso ka eh pwede mo na lang iluwa o kundi kaya isang kwento na binubuo mo at kapag ayaw mo ng ending eh pwede mo lang ibahin, o isang telenobela na palaging aabang abangan ang kalalabasan... &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Oo, may responsibilidad ka kapag sinabi mo ito sa isang tao. Di ko patatawarin ang excuses na I just said it coz I have to or just because you did not want to hurt someone's feeling. I believe you get bounded when you say those words. Now, now... I know that this argument is of course more complicated than my angsts... I also believe that the middle word entails a lot of chuvaness. And these chuvanesses will eventually end which makes you un-feel the meaning of it.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;alam niyo ba na hirap na hirap akong magsabi ng 3 words na to ngayon??? &lt;/p&gt;una... bakit hirap akong magsabi sa nanay ko ng ganun? mahal na mahal ko ang nanay ko no doubt about it. well maybe there is a bit, kasi nga diko nasasabi. pero di kasi kami nasanay na magpakita ng love and affection let alone to say it in words. excuse na ba yun? ewan basta ganun, di kami sanay, pero sanay kaming mag-away, mag-sigawan at mag-bangayan. kung papipiliin mo ako, mas gusto kong araw araw na sabihin sa kanya na mahal ko siya... "Ma, I love you" at may kasama pang "You are the best, promise, di kita binobola". Nalulungkot ako everytime na maiisip kong iiwanan na niya kami... ang kaso nga diko direct na masabi sa kanya yun, maybe one time kapag malapit na siyang umalis at tinutulungan ko siyang mag-impake ng mga damit niya, baka masabi ko yun. Excuse na bang sabihin kong di ako sanay magpakita sa kanya ng ganitong ka-feelingan na para bang daig ko pa yata ang magno-nose bleed kapag nag-umpisa akong umek-ek ng ganito sa harapan niya... ? everytime na sinisigawan niya ako at parang wala na akong nagawang tama sa buhay ko eh parang ang gusto ko laging isagot sa kanya "I love you too, Ma" at paninindigan ko ang anumang responsibilidad na nakaatang sa mga katagang yun... pero ang kakainis, di ako sanay at para bang, mangungulay talong ako sa hiya kapag sinabi ko sa kanya yun... kaya parang mas naging madali na lang sa akin ang makipag sigawan rin lalo na kapag pinapagalitan niya ako na di naman daw talaga ako ang pinapagalitan niya... haaayyy.... ibig sabihin na ba nun diko siya lab???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pero ang ate ko, nasasabihan ko siya ng ganun... malamang kasi nga dahil magkalayo kami at di naman namin nakikita ang magagandang fez namin pag naga-aylabyuhan kami. lalong lalo na kapag umuutang ako sa kanya sobrang lab na lab ko talaga siya at lagi kong ine-emphasize yun. ang problema hindi yata mutual ang feelings namin sa isa't isa hehehe. kasi pag sinasabihan ko siya ng manang, i miss you, manang, kamusta ka na? manang, alabyu... ang isasagot niya sa akin eh "wala akong pera!!!". Pero kahit na ganun di man niya ako pautangin lab ko pa rin naman siya. Naisip ko tuloy siguro talagang mas magiging expressive ka ng love mo sa isang tao kapag dimo siya nakikita. Naisip ko rin na lesser ang responsibility kapag malayo, kapag dimo feel magpakita ng love okay lang, no pressure.. meganun diba? Pero ang totoo niyan, natutunan kong ma-aapreciate ang mga mahal ko sa buhay kapag malayo sila sa akin. If I'd be given the choice, sasabihin ko yun palagi sa mga taong mahal ko. nang walang hiya hiya... at nang nasa harapan ko sila.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;kaya naman, ito ang itinuturo ko sa mga anak ko ngayon. ang wag mahihiyang sabihin ang 3 words na yun. naiiyak ako everytime na sasabihan ako ng anak ko ng ganun, kahit na di ako ang mauunang magsasabi. na kahit kagagaling ko lang sa sermon sa kanila, bigla nilang sasabihing, "Mommy, do you know that I love you very much?" believe me, kaya spoiled yang mga batang yan dahil alam nila ang weakness ko... ang masabihan ng i love you. alam din nila na super akong magtampo kapag naga-iloveyou ako sa kanila tapos di nila ako pinapansin. kapag diko na sila iniimik... alam nilang ung 3 words lang na yun ang makakapagpalambot sa kin. ang sarap kapag galing sa mga anak mo na makukulit ang mga katagang ganito... kaya dapat nga talaga matutunan kong sabihin ito sa aking ina... dahil alam ko ang feeling... yaan niyo, misyon ko yan sa buhay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sa totoo lang hindi na ako masyadong nakakarinig ng 3 words na yan kay hubby. pareho kasi kami eh, we take those words so seriously. di namin sinasabi kapag di namin feel. although mas mabuti sana kung lagi mo paring sinasabi. kaya lang nakaka-inis naman kapag sabi ka ng sabi ng ganun tapos sagot naman ng sagot na out of obligation lang diba??? mahirap kapag dimo talaga feel. yun bang for example, kausap mo siya sa phone, tapos pagkatapos ng usapan niyo, siyempre maga-i-love-you sa last, na parang automatic na yun ang sasabihin niyo sa isa't isa... ikaw anong mafi-feel mo kung ikaw yun? minsan nakakainis pa kasi, kung off-guard ka at may kausap kang iba, example friend mo, tapos nasanay kang bago mo ibaba ang phone eh maga-i-love-you ka, ano kaya sa tingin mo ang isasagot nung nasa kabilang linya, hahahah (u make me lap)??? ewan ko if i'm making any sense here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but anyway, minsan alam niyo ba, nasabihan ako ng i-love-you ng isang taong (okay di hubby ko, di nanay ko, diko naman friend... at okay, okay may malisya dito, shhh!!! kayo lang nakakaalam nito, pero matagal na yun ha!) oo noon lab ko pero nung nagkita kami ulit siyempre dina ganun ka-lab kasi matagal na yun... hellow, natawa ako??? at talagang pinagtawanan ko siya hahahah, ayan natatawa pa rin ako... ganun... kaya ko naisip na ang paga-iloveyou ay hindi dapat basta basta na lang sinasabi. dapat feel mo yun at dapat mong panindigan. mas mabuti yung wag mo na lang sabihin kung dika naman sure diba? mahirap kasi ang maghold-on sa ganitong mga bagay eh. at mahirap ang nakaatang na responsibildad dito. kaya ayan tuloy andaming babies ang lumalabas dahil lang sa 3 words nato.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;on the other hand, nagkaron naman ng time, na superr, wala na akong ibang gustong sabihin at iparating kundi ang 3 words na to sa taong minahal ko, ang kaso, nalagot... nagsawa, nasuka... wala pa rin akong gustong sabihin sa kanya kundi yun pero parang unwanted drug na na dina matanggap ng katawan niya, kaya wala kong magawa kundi i-lessen or better yet, i-purge ang supply... (sorry, epekto yata ito ng mafia wars)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oopppss... just being true and expressive here. bato bato sa langit, ang tamaan... ehhh kasi naman tao lang!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7713733000419917087-1209846107960964238?l=wattuduyanie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/feeds/1209846107960964238/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7713733000419917087&amp;postID=1209846107960964238&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/1209846107960964238'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/1209846107960964238'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/2009/07/alabyu.html' title='Alabyu...'/><author><name>Yanie's Ka-blags!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11501502004310550922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SU-VzSOLKfI/AAAAAAAAAAM/CJLGeE1rmx0/S220/girlumbrellabanner.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7713733000419917087.post-4252738522964447693</id><published>2009-07-18T16:15:00.007+04:00</published><updated>2009-07-29T08:19:02.008+04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ka-blog-gastugan'/><title type='text'>Sunugin Ang Mga Sosyal</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SmHEMrFQMrI/AAAAAAAAACg/IELlymK0dac/s1600-h/Copy+of+CIMG8769.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359780753549832882" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 213px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SmHEMrFQMrI/AAAAAAAAACg/IELlymK0dac/s320/Copy+of+CIMG8769.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SmHDm9vJXYI/AAAAAAAAACY/FWVFonHCDAE/s1600-h/Copy+of+CIMG8770.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SmHDmmy2hjI/AAAAAAAAACQ/sbvsyTQLFJI/s1600-h/Copy+of+CIMG8770.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359780099563882034" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 213px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SmHDmmy2hjI/AAAAAAAAACQ/sbvsyTQLFJI/s320/Copy+of+CIMG8770.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SmHBYnFrvJI/AAAAAAAAAB4/q9YAnnOw9Ms/s1600-h/Copy+of+CIMG8768.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359777660101442706" style="WIDTH: 213px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SmHBYnFrvJI/AAAAAAAAAB4/q9YAnnOw9Ms/s320/Copy+of+CIMG8768.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Ma'am okay lang po ba kung sa harapan kayo, para po hindi mapaghiwalay sina ma'am at sir?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sabi ni ma'am okay lang.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Ma'am pwede po ba kayong sumabay na lang sa amin sa bangka papunta sa daungan"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sabi ni ma'am okay lang na kasama niya ang mga guides sa bangka imbes na ang mga tunay na pasahero.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Eh Ma'am, sa kanila na lang po kayo sasabay, kasi kulang po sila ng isa."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Walang problema!" Ang sabi ulit ni Ma'am&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Anyway ine expect ko na ito." Ang nasa isip ni Ma'am. "Wag ka nang mag-iinarte" ang sabi ng kanyang konsensiya.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Ma'am during lunch time po, sa Daluyon po kayo tutuloy para kumain." Dito na super na nagtaka si Ma'am&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Eh bakit, sila saan sila kakain?" tanong nito sa guide... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Napasama sa isang grupo ng mga misyonaryo si Ma'am. Nagkataon na ang lugar na pupuntahan ng mga misyonaryong ito ay ang kanya ring pupuntahan. Kaya wala siyang magawa kundi ang humalibilo sa kanila at sa mga iba pang tao na papunta sa lugar na ito. Ngunit dahil mag-isa lang siya sa ganitong paglalakabay, no choice siya kundi sundin anuman ang kagustuhan ng mga guides na magdadala sa kanila sa mga bulubundukin at sa mga liblib na lugar ng Paradis'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tinanggap niya lahat ng ito. Hindi naman siya nag-inarte. Ngunit sa dami ng pinagawa sa kanya na mag-isa, ito ang hindi niya ma-take. Ang kumain mag-isa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Bakit naman kailangan ko pang humiwalay sa kanila?" Ang tanong nito sa guide.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Eh kasi po, yun po ang ibinilin sa amin ng agency sa kapatagan. Na gawing espesyal ang inyong pagkain dito sa bulubundukin"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Hmmm... espesyal hah..." maganda yun, kung espesyal. Ito ang nasa isip ni Ma'am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Pagdating niya sa espesyal na kainan, na may mga espesyal na kubo, tumambad sa kanya ang napakagandang lamesa na may mga espesyal ngang kandila (tanghaling tapat). Nakasulat pa nga sa lamesa ang pangalan ni Ma'am na may nakalagay pang "Top Star."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Uy, mukhang espesyal nga!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Hi Ma'am kamusta po kayo? kamusta naman po ang biyahe?" tanong ng mga taong nagbabantay sa espesyal na kubong iyon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Maayos naman, nakakapagod tsaka masaya" sagot nito.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Eto po ang juice niyo"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Wow, ang ganda naman ng presentation" Sa isip isip ni Ma'am... this was supposed to be a special meal, pero this part is also what she hates. Ang mag balat-kayo. Lahat ng mga kasama niya sa grupo ay masayang nagsasalo sa isang buffet lunch, samantalang siya ay na-stuck sa isang napaka espesyal na fine dining restaurant. Pota, okay lang naman sana eh, kaya lang ang isinisigaw ng utak niya "I want my PEPSIIII!!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tragis na buhay ito oo, squash soup... yun ang sumunod na inihain. Anong nalalaman niya sa squash soup na to. Pero in fairness masarap hah? Squash soup pa lang busog na siya. Biglang lumapit ang waiter sa kanya. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Ma'am tapos na po kayo?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Abah, hindi pa nga nakakalahati magtatanong kung tapos na? Sa isip niya lamang ang pang-aaping ito. Ngunit bigla niyang naalala sa napanood niya sa TV na kapag nasa ganuong klaseng restaurant siya, dapat wag niyang ipapahalatang patay gutom siya. "Eh langya naman, gusto kong itaas ang paa ko sa bangko. Di ako sanay na di nakataas ang paa pag kumakain." ang bulong nito sa sarili.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Okay here, you can take it, I'm done" nag english na lang ang Ma'am para kahit papano'y irespeto ng mga waiter at mapanindigan niya ang pagiging sosyal... (kahit naman mukha siyang katulong). Buti na lang magaling uminglish ang lola...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Pagdating ng main course, natigilan siya. Hindi sa sarap ng pagkain kundi sa kung anong kubyertos ang gagamitin sa pagkain. "Langya naman oo. Bakit ko ba nakalimutan ang tinuro nung HE teacher namin sa mga kubyertong gagamitin sa pagkain?" Nalilito tuloy siya kung ano ang kanyang gagawin. Pinulot na lamang niya ang kutsara at tinidor na kakasya sa kanyang bunganga.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Di naman pwedeng itong malalaking ito kasi di ko na maisusubo pagkain ko" bulong na naman nito sa kanyang sarili. Nagtataka na nga ang mga waiters dahil sa pakikipag-usap nito sa kanyang sarili. Medyo nawawala na nga sa tamang hulog ang kanyang utak.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Pagkaraan ng ilang minuto naubos na ni Ma'am ang kanyang pagkain. Habang nagsusulat sa kanyang diary napagkakamalan tuloy siyang food critique ng mga taong nandoon sa restaurant na iyon. Sulat naman lang siya ng sulat ng kung anu ano, parang nagti-trip lang ba. Hayaan mo na, para naman maiba ang image...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sa wakas natapos rin niyang kainin ang kanyang pagkaing combination of grilled pork ang grilled salmon... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Hmmmm... Sarap!" Masarap naman talaga ang food, at dumating na nga ang point na inayos na ng waiter ang kanyang kinainan. Ilang minuto lang ang lumipas, ay ihinain na ang kanyang dessert. At duon niya napagtanto na ang kubyertos na kanyang ginamit at pang - dessert. Natawa siya sa kanyang sarili at di niya napigilang mag mura "namputsa naman oo" sigurado pinagtatwanan na ako ng ma buwisit na waiters nato. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Pero okay lang yun, pati sarili ko nama'y pinagtatawanan ko rin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ito ang pinakaayaw ni Ma'am sa kanyang buhay ang mag-pretend na sosyal siya. Ang totoo kasi'y punong puno naman siya ng ka-shit-an at ka-bakya-an sa buhay. At wala na nga siyang ibang nasabi after ng kanyang lunch kundi....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Hindi ako Special... Sinusunog ko ang mga sosyal!!!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&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/7713733000419917087-4252738522964447693?l=wattuduyanie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/feeds/4252738522964447693/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7713733000419917087&amp;postID=4252738522964447693&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/4252738522964447693'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/4252738522964447693'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/2009/07/sunugin-ang-mga-sosyal.html' title='Sunugin Ang Mga Sosyal'/><author><name>Yanie's Ka-blags!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11501502004310550922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SU-VzSOLKfI/AAAAAAAAAAM/CJLGeE1rmx0/S220/girlumbrellabanner.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SmHEMrFQMrI/AAAAAAAAACg/IELlymK0dac/s72-c/Copy+of+CIMG8769.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7713733000419917087.post-1122877661784311623</id><published>2009-07-17T21:53:00.005+04:00</published><updated>2009-10-01T08:52:38.352+04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Nang Lumapot ang Utak'/><title type='text'>The Ring!</title><content type='html'>I wasn't decided to go. 2 days before my flight I have just informed my boss that I’m taking a break. A quite long break. But at that point, I still wanted to take my word back. There’s just one call that could make me do it. Just one text or just one call. .. was all I was waiting for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A couple of months ago, I have not been sleeping well. I called up friends, chatted with officemates, discussed my dilemma with them, blogged about it… tried to reason out… listed the pros and cons, listed my expenses, asked for signs, felt my heart... and there’s one thing I was clearly sure of… I do not have a decision... yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don’t take this long to decide. So why, you might want to ask. Why was I so undecided to do this thing? Doing this is very easy. Just as my friend had suggested, “Just pack up your things and go” Everything has been arranged, flights, go-go from all authorities, all expenses... settled! Why then, am I still making it so hard?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was doing this for myself, that’s why. I am not used to doing things for myself. I am not used to making major decisions for my own enjoyment, for my own comfort. I was used to sacrificing for other people. That has become my joy, to hurdle for others, to work for others, to be happy for others. I can’t feel genuinely happy if I know I was doing things for myself. And this trip is for myself. I was doing this for myself, let me just emphasize that. And this took a lot of self-convincing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That it’s okay to do things for your own self. A lot of my friends said, I deserve this break. It has been four years and I have not stopped working. Please don’t get me wrong. I love working for these “others”, I don’t feel bad sacrificing for them, besides, these “others” are the reason I am working in the first place, these “others” are truly my treasure. There are other people who had worked forty years and had never had a break, and so I asked myself, where are they now? You tell me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the way, I for one, shouldn't have any reason to ask these things in the first place. Whole family’s with me and I don’t practically have a house to go "home" to. So some people also asked me the same question I kept on asking myself for the last 2 months. Why do I have to go home? Where is your home? Who is home?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What makes this situation different are the strange dreams that awake me in the middle of the night. Dreams about the smell of green fields and dry lands, dreams about rains and dreams of old friends’ faces. It’s trying to pull me… back "home". And I can’t seem to resist it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so, I gave myself a deadline. June 10 I should have decided already. While doing this I was already organizing some plans such as searching for flights and accommodation costs. But June 10 came I wasn’t still decided. I was to fly June 19… I would have had only 9 days to finalize everything. June 15, I still don’t have a “yes” nor a “no” in mind. I was so goddamn confused on what to do. There’s only one thing that can make me decide on whether to go or not… and I think I’ve mentioned that already. I was chatting with an old friend and told him my dilemma, he tried to convince me, and he could be the reason I was waiting for. But nah, he did not convince me enough. And also, there was NO call that day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;June 16, it was 11:34 in the morning, I was still busy searching for tours and packages, was still busy checking out flights. What the hell, all fares had gone up because the dates I was looking for are already too close. But then again, for the nth time I clicked cancel instead of confirm on these exasperating online tickets. I just did another change of mind when I saw a call on my phone. It’s not a registered number but my heart skipped big time. Must be the call I’ve been waiting for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Hello” I was trying to figure out who was on the other line although I knew who he was. I was just hoping it could be another person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“How are you?” the voice said on the other line. I said I was okay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Listen, can you do me a favor? … blah blah blah” the next part of our conversation was history… I just remember scribbling some numbers in a piece of paper and the rest… I really don’t remember anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hung up the phone in frustration. I felt like skipping office that afternoon. Just like the other frustrating afternoons I have had. I wanted to drive around town, drive while crying, drive while whacking my steering wheel and attempting to crash the car to any light post I could choose. I was so mad and I felt so low. And then I started convincing myself that my heart had frozen cold. I need to melt down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I walked inside my boss’s room and told him I’m taking a leave. My boss just says yes to everything. He even made my leave days “official”. The signs must have arrived late. Thanks for the call, it came anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Damn it, I’m going home, not the home I used to go home to… but home… the home I’ve been dreaming about. I told my friends I have finally decided and all of them wanted to go home with me. But only one jumped up to an impulsive decision like me and said, “Wait, postpone your trip and I’m coming home with you.” Good, one week is good. I have more time to prepare for hand over and rebooking of flights. And then everything was arranged.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wasn’t doing this with, nor for anyone. I was doing this for…yes, moi!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am going to have one selfish escapade in my life. And thanks for the blessings... Appreciated!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7713733000419917087-1122877661784311623?l=wattuduyanie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/feeds/1122877661784311623/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7713733000419917087&amp;postID=1122877661784311623&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/1122877661784311623'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/1122877661784311623'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/2009/07/ring.html' title='The Ring!'/><author><name>Yanie's Ka-blags!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11501502004310550922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SU-VzSOLKfI/AAAAAAAAAAM/CJLGeE1rmx0/S220/girlumbrellabanner.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7713733000419917087.post-2401514484829882799</id><published>2009-07-15T09:48:00.005+04:00</published><updated>2009-07-23T13:03:16.310+04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ala Lang'/><title type='text'>Gusto Kong Maging...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SmCt2DntUFI/AAAAAAAAABw/2mOvrTb4MGU/s1600-h/picture-3268.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359474700767285330" style="WIDTH: 83px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 85px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SmCt2DntUFI/AAAAAAAAABw/2mOvrTb4MGU/s320/picture-3268.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Gawa po ito ng kaibigan kong inlababo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;...Closet Writer&lt;br /&gt;July 5, 2009&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gusto kong maging&lt;br /&gt;Lapis sa pagitan ng yong mga daliri&lt;br /&gt;Kapag sumusulat ka ng tula&lt;br /&gt;Na puno ng dalamhati&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gusto kong maging&lt;br /&gt;Tasa ng kapeng dumadampi&lt;br /&gt;sa yong mga labi&lt;br /&gt;O alak na gumuguhit&lt;br /&gt;Sa yong lalamunan&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gusto kong maging&lt;br /&gt;Paborito mong awitin&lt;br /&gt;Kulay, laro, salita at gawin&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gusto kong maging&lt;br /&gt;Liwanag sa yong mga mata&lt;br /&gt;kapag ikay tumatawa&lt;br /&gt;At maging dahilan ng pagtibok ng yong puso&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nais kong maging&lt;br /&gt;Lupa na iyong lalakaran&lt;br /&gt;Hangin na iyong lalanghapin&lt;br /&gt;Salitang iyong bibigkasin&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nais kong maging&lt;br /&gt;Araw sa yong himpapawid&lt;br /&gt;Buwan at bituin&lt;br /&gt;Upang masundan ko ang yong bawat galaw&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At kung ikay mahihiga&lt;br /&gt;Gusto kong maging&lt;br /&gt;malambot na kumot&lt;br /&gt;Na ibabalot mo sa iyong katawan&lt;br /&gt;Maging unan na iyong hahalikan&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ang huling bagay&lt;br /&gt;na papasok sa yong isipan&lt;br /&gt;Ang huling salita na&lt;br /&gt;iyong bibitawan&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gusto kong maging&lt;br /&gt;Tagahabi ng yong panaginip&lt;br /&gt;Maging musa mo,&lt;br /&gt;maging kanta mo&lt;br /&gt;Maging pangarap mo&lt;br /&gt;Maging alaala mo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gusto kong mabuhay&lt;br /&gt;Sa loob ng yong isipan&lt;br /&gt;At syang pupuno sa yong puso&lt;br /&gt;Ng init at pagmamahal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Author's Note:&lt;br /&gt;Masarap mapag-alayan ng ganitong mga akda...&lt;br /&gt;Lalo na kapag ramdam mong ikaw na'y nalu-luca sa pag-ibig!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.filipinowriter.com/gusto-kong-maging"&gt;http://www.filipinowriter.com/gusto-kong-maging&lt;/a&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/7713733000419917087-2401514484829882799?l=wattuduyanie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/feeds/2401514484829882799/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7713733000419917087&amp;postID=2401514484829882799&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/2401514484829882799'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/2401514484829882799'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/2009/07/gusto-kong-maging.html' title='Gusto Kong Maging...'/><author><name>Yanie's Ka-blags!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11501502004310550922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SU-VzSOLKfI/AAAAAAAAAAM/CJLGeE1rmx0/S220/girlumbrellabanner.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SmCt2DntUFI/AAAAAAAAABw/2mOvrTb4MGU/s72-c/picture-3268.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7713733000419917087.post-3107208517489199255</id><published>2009-07-15T08:33:00.005+04:00</published><updated>2009-10-01T08:53:34.665+04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Koleksiyon ng Buhangin'/><title type='text'>Anjan Ka Na Naman</title><content type='html'>Inaalagaan mo na naman yan&lt;br /&gt;Nangangarap ka na naman kasama yan&lt;br /&gt;Nahihibang ka na naman ba?&lt;br /&gt;Dika na nadadala…………&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Masokista ka yata&lt;br /&gt;Ilang beses mo ba sasaktan ang sarili mo?&lt;br /&gt;Please lang iwaglit mo na yan sa isip mo&lt;br /&gt;Naaawa na ako sayo&lt;br /&gt;Another big-time hurting na naman yan in the making&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ipikit mo na lang ang iyong mga mata&lt;br /&gt;At isipin kung gaano ka kahalaga&lt;br /&gt;Ang puso’y ilang beses ka na bang lininlang?&lt;br /&gt;Hinanakit mo’y dina nga mabilang bilang&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sige na, tumigil ka na’t umayos&lt;br /&gt;Tatlong alog lang yan ng ulo, tapos!&lt;br /&gt;Sugpuin na ang apoy, at baka ka pa mapaso&lt;br /&gt;Iba mo pang wounds dipa nga nareretaso&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hinga… hinga ka ng malalim&lt;br /&gt;Pintig ng puso mo’y iyong damhin&lt;br /&gt;Move on… start anew…&lt;br /&gt;Humakbang ka na lang papalayo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kung siya’y sumunod at sa iyo’y sumabay&lt;br /&gt;Eh di mabuti!&lt;br /&gt;Pero siguraduhin lang na wag na namang sumablay&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Puso mo’y pakaingatan na,&lt;br /&gt;and be sure to be strong&lt;br /&gt;Wag na namang mabulag at maniwala&lt;br /&gt;That there’s this thing called…&lt;br /&gt;Forever love and affection&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Haaay…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7713733000419917087-3107208517489199255?l=wattuduyanie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/feeds/3107208517489199255/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7713733000419917087&amp;postID=3107208517489199255&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/3107208517489199255'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/3107208517489199255'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/2009/07/anjan-ka-na-naman.html' title='Anjan Ka Na Naman'/><author><name>Yanie's Ka-blags!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11501502004310550922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SU-VzSOLKfI/AAAAAAAAAAM/CJLGeE1rmx0/S220/girlumbrellabanner.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7713733000419917087.post-3799180760100246805</id><published>2009-07-13T16:44:00.006+04:00</published><updated>2009-11-05T17:43:24.973+04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Nang Lumapot ang Utak'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='In ENGLISH Shiznits'/><title type='text'>My Soul</title><content type='html'>My friend told me, I have no soul…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That was after I told him that I found my soul in Paradis' but lost it again in my very own hometown…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He said, I can’t find something that is not really there. I thought he was just making me laugh… and then I tried to stop and be quiet for a while. I was doing this while trying to breathe in the chilly air coming out from the centralized AC.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And right after I breathed out, I ended up realizing, I have a soul… yup, I realized that in just 3 seconds. And I’m glad that I’m convinced I still have one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s just that… my soul is really sneaky… it keeps on leaving me which makes me forget most of the time… that I really own one…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is that bad?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7713733000419917087-3799180760100246805?l=wattuduyanie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/feeds/3799180760100246805/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7713733000419917087&amp;postID=3799180760100246805&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/3799180760100246805'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/3799180760100246805'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/2009/07/my-soul.html' title='My Soul'/><author><name>Yanie's Ka-blags!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11501502004310550922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SU-VzSOLKfI/AAAAAAAAAAM/CJLGeE1rmx0/S220/girlumbrellabanner.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7713733000419917087.post-2214968821998443405</id><published>2009-06-28T21:10:00.006+04:00</published><updated>2009-10-01T08:55:31.992+04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Koleksiyon ng Buhangin'/><title type='text'>PMP</title><content type='html'>Binagtas ko ang kahabaan ng daan patungo sa iyo&lt;br /&gt;Tiniis ko ang init... tinanaw ko ang kinaroroonan mo&lt;br /&gt;Medyo malayo pa...&lt;br /&gt;Pero kailangan kong umabot, kahit mabigat ang dala ko&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pagdating ko sa kinaroonan mo,&lt;br /&gt;Parang ibig kong umatras...&lt;br /&gt;Bakit ganun...?&lt;br /&gt;Ang layo na nga ng linakad ko&lt;br /&gt;Pagdating, pawis kailangan pa ring pumunas?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Madaming mukha ang tumambad sa akin&lt;br /&gt;Kailangan ko pang sumali sa pila patungo sayo&lt;br /&gt;Habang dala dala ang mabigat kong pasanin&lt;br /&gt;Pagod ko ba'y dimo pa matangko?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pagod na ako... pagod na pagod...&lt;br /&gt;Pilit kong hinahabol ang samyo ng hangin&lt;br /&gt;Upang ako'y muling tumatag&lt;br /&gt;Upang sa iyo'y makarating ng may natitira pang lakas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ang aking oras para sa iyo ay nakarating na sa wakas&lt;br /&gt;Pangalan mo'y buong tamis kong binigkas&lt;br /&gt;Ngunit ilang minuto rin ang aking hinintay&lt;br /&gt;Bago sa akin ikaw ay dumampulay&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At nang dumating ang oras nang ika'y napasa-akin na&lt;br /&gt;Dumatal ang init ng iyong pisngi sa aking labi&lt;br /&gt;Timyas mong kakaiba'y nagpa-alala&lt;br /&gt;Sa mga nakaraang minsa'y isinantabi&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alam niyang ikaw lang ang nagpapasaya sa akin&lt;br /&gt;Natutuwa pa nga siya kapag inaabot ka niya sa akin&lt;br /&gt;Alam niyang ikaw ang lagi kong binabalik balikan&lt;br /&gt;Ngunit dumaan ang panahon...&lt;br /&gt;Alam niya ring ikaw ay akin nang nakalimutan&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At ito ang oras para makasama kitang muli&lt;br /&gt;Gusto kong malaman kung ika'y nagbago na&lt;br /&gt;Laking tuwa ko dahil kasing tamis ka pa rin ng dati&lt;br /&gt;Naubos kitang labi ko'y puno ng ngiti&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kung maari lang na ika'y aking isabay&lt;br /&gt;Sa aking mapanghamong paglalakbay&lt;br /&gt;Ako'y hindi magsasawa kahit habang buhay&lt;br /&gt;Sana lagi kitang kapiling... O Peach Mango Pie...&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;Hmmm... yum yum....!!!&lt;br /&gt;na miss ko to ng sobrang tunay&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jollibee - MOA&lt;br /&gt;Manila&lt;br /&gt;28 June 2009&lt;br /&gt;12:39pm&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7713733000419917087-2214968821998443405?l=wattuduyanie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/feeds/2214968821998443405/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7713733000419917087&amp;postID=2214968821998443405&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/2214968821998443405'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/2214968821998443405'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/2009/06/pmp.html' title='PMP'/><author><name>Yanie's Ka-blags!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11501502004310550922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SU-VzSOLKfI/AAAAAAAAAAM/CJLGeE1rmx0/S220/girlumbrellabanner.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7713733000419917087.post-7710715727898778807</id><published>2009-06-15T15:26:00.006+04:00</published><updated>2009-10-01T08:56:12.576+04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Koleksiyon ng Buhangin'/><title type='text'>How do I Love Thee?  (Translated by Yanie)</title><content type='html'>Original By : Elizabeth Barrett Browning&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How do I love thee?&lt;br /&gt;Let me count the ways.&lt;br /&gt;I love thee to the depth and breadth and height&lt;br /&gt;My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight&lt;br /&gt;For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.&lt;br /&gt;I love thee to the level of every day's&lt;br /&gt;Most quiet need, by sun and candlelight.&lt;br /&gt;I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;&lt;br /&gt;I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.&lt;br /&gt;I love with a passion put to use&lt;br /&gt;In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.&lt;br /&gt;I love thee with a love I seemed to lose&lt;br /&gt;With my lost saints, I love thee with the breath,&lt;br /&gt;Smiles, tears, of all my life! and, if God choose,&lt;br /&gt;I shall but love thee better after death.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;____________________________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Yanie's Version&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gaano na ba kita kamahal?&lt;br /&gt;Hayaan mo akong ito’y kilohin&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Napakamahal mo dahil kailangan ko pang&lt;br /&gt;Gumawa ng imposible tulad ng…&lt;br /&gt;Arukin ang kailaliman&lt;br /&gt;Pagtagpuin ang dulong magkabilaan&lt;br /&gt;At umakyat ng walang katapusan&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nagutay na ang kaluluwa ko,&lt;br /&gt;Willing akong gawin ang mga yan&lt;br /&gt;Kahit maging manhid na&lt;br /&gt;Pati ang pagal na katawan&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mahal kita dahil sa araw araw na ginawa ng Diyos&lt;br /&gt;Kailangang kong tumahimik… mahirap gawin yun hah…&lt;br /&gt;Habang nagsisindi ng kandila sa ilalim ng sumisikat na araw&lt;br /&gt;Imaginin mo? Gagawin ko yun para sayo?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mahal pa rin kita.. alam kong libre naman yun…&lt;br /&gt;Sa kabila ng pakikipag-kompetensiya ko miski&lt;br /&gt;Sa mga lalaking naghahanap rin kay MR RIGHT?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ika’y mahal ng sobrang taos sa puso, peksman yan…&lt;br /&gt;At handang isanla ang ari-arian pati na rin ang aking katawan… (yeah baby)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ako’y maalab kung magmahal, alam kong OA yun pero ganun talaga&lt;br /&gt;Kinakalimutan ko lahat ng sama ng loob para bagang bata,&lt;br /&gt;pangakuan mo ngayon bukas limot na&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mahal kita, at ang pagmamahal kong ito ay parang sa pera…&lt;br /&gt;kapag nawawala kagya’t kailangang hanapin…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ang pagmamahal ko sayo’y nai-chismis ko na sa lahat ng santo&lt;br /&gt;naikwento pati sa dentist na 2times ko lang nadalaw sa buong buhay ko&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sa bawat pagtawa ko, pagiyak, pag-utot at pagdahak,&lt;br /&gt;pangalan mo ang nasasambit…&lt;br /&gt;ewan kung bakit&lt;br /&gt;ikaw pa rin ang nasa utak…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At kung kukunin na ako ni Lord,&lt;br /&gt;Hinintayin kita doon pangako...&lt;br /&gt;Habang sa Kanya'y nakikipagkwentuhan&lt;br /&gt;Kung paanong si Yanie ay bumagtas&lt;br /&gt;ng karagatan at kalawakan&lt;br /&gt;sa pagnanais niyang makamtan&lt;br /&gt;ang Pag-ibig na wagas&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7713733000419917087-7710715727898778807?l=wattuduyanie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/feeds/7710715727898778807/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7713733000419917087&amp;postID=7710715727898778807&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/7710715727898778807'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/7710715727898778807'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/2009/06/how-do-i-love-thee-translated-by-yanie.html' title='How do I Love Thee?  (Translated by Yanie)'/><author><name>Yanie's Ka-blags!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11501502004310550922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SU-VzSOLKfI/AAAAAAAAAAM/CJLGeE1rmx0/S220/girlumbrellabanner.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7713733000419917087.post-8349013146119867723</id><published>2009-06-14T14:43:00.004+04:00</published><updated>2009-06-14T15:12:43.993+04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ka-blog-gastugan'/><title type='text'>BURAOT Part 3 - At Kinarir ang Pambu-BURAOT</title><content type='html'>Ang taong kinakausap ka lang kapag kailangan ka ay isang BURAOT!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ang taong hindi tumutupad sa pangako ay BURAOT!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ang asawang babae na nagger ay BURAOT!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ang taong di tumatanaw ng utang na loob ay BURAOT!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ang taong inggitera ay BURAOT&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ang asawa na pabili ng pabili ng mamahaling gamit sa kanyang asawa na nasa abroad, ang tawag sa kanya ay..... SOSYAL!!!  (bading accent)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Paano mo malalaman kung ang tao ay isang BURAOT...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  Kapag yinaya ka ng kaibigan sa kainan, pagdating ng bayaran, nahalata mong naghahanap na siya ng pitaka niya, at biglang sasabihin sayo na naiwan niya ang pitaka sa bahay, kunwari'y tatawag pa ito sa bahay nila para malaman kung nandun nga ang pitaka niya.  Eh sigurado buraot yang kaibigan mo.  tapos ibulong mo sa sarili mo, "leche buti na lang dala ko credit card ko."  Sa susunod na magyaya ang kaibigan mong to, lalo na kapag birthday niya, siyempre dimo naman matatanggihan yon dahil kahit papano'y mahal mo siya...  por pabor, magdala ka ng extra na pera mo dahil siguradong kulang ang pera nito panlibre sayo...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  Kapag super kwento ang kaibigan mo na nahuli siya ng pulis dahil mali siya ng linya sa highway, at may emphasis siya sa part ng kwento niya na pinatawad siya dahil naka mini-skirt siya ng bonggang bongga, buraot yang kaibigan mo na yan... promise&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Sa isang handaan, may videoke escapades sa flat ni kabayan, siyempre excited ka kasi alam mong ikaw si videoke king sa probinsiya santo mariones, lahat ng  kanta na naka queue sa mediacom, mga eleben na kanta yata na magkakasunod eh sa iyo... Pre... masakit mang sabihin to pero.... BURAOT KA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.  Kapag gumagaya ka na sa accent ng mga indiyano, pati pa-shake shake ng ulo at pagbigkas ng UAE ay ginagawa mo nang YUYEYI... hahahhaa, Mare... wag ka nang manghawa pa, magpa-rehab at pa-quarantine ka na dahil mas malala pa sa N1H1 ang pagka-BURAOT mo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.  Asus ito ang certified na buraot...  kapag may usapan ang dabarkads, alas diyes... dumating ka ng alas onse... at ang excuse mo eh kasi ninakaw ang mga bunga niyo ng kalamansi, ehemmm...  Brader... im sure yung 30 minutes dun eh kasi nag-floor wax ka pa, nyehehhe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Kapag sa panglimang taon ng buhay may-asawa mo eh napagtanto mong nakapangasawa ka ng isang BURAOT... tsk... kawawa ka naman.  limang taon?  (*insert iling-iling icon here*)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Kapag trenta ka na at wala ka pang asawa...  aysus,  sigurado, mabuburaot ka... hehehe..  (ate ko... mag-asawa ka na oy!... nakup delete, delete, baka dina ako pautangin weehehehhe)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8.  Kapag may educational field trip ang buong department,  may crush kang cutie pie na gurlaloo na bagong gupit at ang swerte mo dahil nakatabi mo siya sa bus, shocks 12hours mo din maaamoy ang halimuyak ng crush mo... utang na loob kapatid, wag na wag kang magbabaon ng tinolang manok na uulamin sa loob ng bus habang ummandar ito, para di mo matapunan ng sabaw ang katabi mong crush mo pa naman... Sigurado ko, tatlong di kanais nais ang magaganap kapag nangyari yan...  una, makakatanggap ka ng mag-asawang sampal kay cutipie-crush. Pangalawa  mangangamoy pananghalian ang buong gabi ng biyahe niyo ni cutipie, dagdag pa ang mala-longganisa mong pisngi... at pangatlo...mapapasaiyo ang trono ng "BURAOT KING"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9.  Dinedekurasyonan mo ang bago mong bahay.  Bumili ka ng fortune plant para pampaganda ng bahay mo.  Kinabukasan biglang tumawag ang nanay mo, nagco-confess sa nagawa niyang kapalpakan (por da pers taym).  &lt;br /&gt;    At Ang sabi ganito "Pina-arawan ko yung fortune plant, ilinabas ko sa balcon, sinundo ko lang naman si Chi Chi sandali, pagbalik ko.... NASUNOG ang fortune plant"  Hysterical si mader dear...  by the way 42 degrees celcius lang naman ang temp dito, at ang fortune plant di dapat kasi pinaarawan... &lt;br /&gt;    So, buraot si mama mo ganun? &lt;br /&gt;    "Hindi ah, ang tawag sa halamang sunog, BURAOT!"    &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10.  Bato bato ng kulangot... ang tamaan ay BURAOT!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7713733000419917087-8349013146119867723?l=wattuduyanie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/feeds/8349013146119867723/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7713733000419917087&amp;postID=8349013146119867723&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/8349013146119867723'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/8349013146119867723'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/2009/06/buraot-part-3-at-kinarir-ang-pambu.html' title='BURAOT Part 3 - At Kinarir ang Pambu-BURAOT'/><author><name>Yanie's Ka-blags!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11501502004310550922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SU-VzSOLKfI/AAAAAAAAAAM/CJLGeE1rmx0/S220/girlumbrellabanner.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7713733000419917087.post-7330041019032216359</id><published>2009-06-11T13:38:00.005+04:00</published><updated>2009-06-11T13:54:58.701+04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ka-blog-gastugan'/><title type='text'>BURAOT PART 2… - Paano Buraot-in si Yanie?</title><content type='html'>1.  Asarin si Yanie dahil di man lang maka top-100 ang blog site niya…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  Asarin siya ulit dahil sobrang hirap at puyat ang ginawa niya para ma-photoshop ang picture niya sa blog na ito.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.  Asarin pa lalo dahil pipito na nga lang followers niya, isa pa siya dun, haaay, kawawa naman&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.  Lalo pa siyang asarin at sabihing “PAPANSIN!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.  At para lalong bonggang bongga na ang pagka-buraot niya...  tumawag sa opisina niya, pakonek sa amo at isumbong na wala siyang ginagawa.  Para sa ebidensiya i-send sa amo ang link nato, mas malamang niyan magiging follower na rin siya nyehehehe...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wala na… malala na… Thursday na naman kasi… tsk!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oy oy... original lahat yan!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7713733000419917087-7330041019032216359?l=wattuduyanie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/feeds/7330041019032216359/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7713733000419917087&amp;postID=7330041019032216359&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/7330041019032216359'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/7330041019032216359'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/2009/06/buraot-part-2-paano-buraot-in-si-yanie.html' title='BURAOT PART 2… - Paano Buraot-in si Yanie?'/><author><name>Yanie's Ka-blags!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11501502004310550922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SU-VzSOLKfI/AAAAAAAAAAM/CJLGeE1rmx0/S220/girlumbrellabanner.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7713733000419917087.post-5592629022330620639</id><published>2009-06-11T12:13:00.005+04:00</published><updated>2009-06-11T12:23:06.553+04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ka-blog-gastugan'/><title type='text'>10 Tips on How to be a Certified "BURAOT"</title><content type='html'>1. Sa restaurant, habang naghihintay ng order…  itago ang number mo sa waiter para magkanda-buraot din siya sa paghahanap kung kanino ise-serve ang inorder na pagkain…  kapag dumaan sa table mo ang waiter…  ibulong mo sa kaibigan mo na nasa table din sabay tingin sa waiter, na parang siya ang pinag-uusapan niyo…  "Beeehhh, di niya mahanap yung number, hehehe" &lt;em&gt;(c/o Michelle)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Sa restaurant ulit, umorder ka ng Diet Water… with a serious face.  Check mo kung ano ang reaction ng waiter.  &lt;em&gt;(c/o forwarded emails)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Sa mga Drive-Through Restaurants… i-emphasize mo sa cashier na TAKE-OUT ang order mo… also with a serious face.  Check mo ulit kung ano ang reaction ng cashier. &lt;em&gt;(c/o forwarded emails)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Sa mga convenient stores…  example sa isang gasolinahan…  Itanong mo sa cashier, if they accept cheques…  I-analyze kung ano ang kanyang isasagot. &lt;em&gt;(original yan)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Sa isang party, habang nag-uusap kayong tatlong magkakaibigan, bulungan mo ang isa sa kanila at sabihing “Kapag hindi ka tumawa, kukurutin ko puwit mo” sabay tingin sa isa mo pang kaibigan. &lt;em&gt;(original yan)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Sa Facebook at Friendster status mo, ilagay ang “TUMATAE” &lt;em&gt;(c/o HAY MEN.  Ang blog ng mga TUNAY na LALAKE)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Sa opisina… alamin kung paano mag-page at i-page mo ang sarili mo.  Wag mag-disguise ng boses.  &lt;em&gt;(c/o forwarded emails)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Sa opisina ulit…  kapag inutusan ka ng Briton mong boss, isagot mo “Do you want Fries with that?”  &lt;em&gt;(c/o forwarded emails)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. During university week, tumambay sa gate habang naka-upo sa hallway…  Maglagay ng lata sa harap, at dapat may note doon na “For Popcorn”.  Para mas kapani-paniwala, magsuot ng “Channel” na sunglass… &lt;em&gt;(dream kong gawin yan nung college… ngayon ko na lang gagawin kasi afford ko na ang channel dong!)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. I-google kung ano ang ibig sabihin ng Buraot… Go! Go!...  Kapag ginawa mo na to…  May bago nang ibig sabihin ang BURAOT…  --- UTO-UTO. &lt;em&gt;(original yan)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dadami pa ang ka-buraot-an sa buhay… abang abang lang!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recommended site para sa ka-buraot-an  &lt;br /&gt;http://www.anaknikulapo.com/&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7713733000419917087-5592629022330620639?l=wattuduyanie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/feeds/5592629022330620639/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7713733000419917087&amp;postID=5592629022330620639&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/5592629022330620639'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/5592629022330620639'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/2009/06/10-tips-on-how-to-be-certified-buraot.html' title='10 Tips on How to be a Certified &quot;BURAOT&quot;'/><author><name>Yanie's Ka-blags!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11501502004310550922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SU-VzSOLKfI/AAAAAAAAAAM/CJLGeE1rmx0/S220/girlumbrellabanner.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7713733000419917087.post-1796657214973853971</id><published>2009-06-09T15:48:00.005+04:00</published><updated>2009-10-01T08:53:15.469+04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ka-blog-gastugan'/><title type='text'>A Typical Fighting Scene in Wanna-Be-Drew-Barrymore’s Wansapanataym Life</title><content type='html'>Kaninang umaga, nagising si Drew ng alas sais, feeling niya maganda ang mood niya ngayon kahit na nasa background ang mala-zha zha zaturnang boses ng kanyang mader dear. So pagkatapos niyang magpunas ng laway, direcho na sa bathroom at naligo.. Dina ide-detalye ang scene nato, abangan na lang ang CD's at links sa internet). Ito ang araw na nakapag desisyon na si Drew tungkol sa isang bagay na matagal na niyang pinagi-isipan... Ang tanggapin ang proposal na mging number 2 ni Nicholas Cage...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But eniweys hindi ito ang istorya... focus tayo sa talagang istorya... pagkatapos ng mga rikititos sa umagang yon, 7:30 na, medyo maaga pa, 8:30 kasi ang pasok niya sa opisina. Pumindot ang Drew ng G sa elebeytor. "Hay naku" ang nasa isip niya "naiwan na naman ang siyoho ng amoy ni Kadir dito sa lip (lift)" Si Kadir po ay ang watchman sa building. Paglabas niya sa lip, dumirecho ito sa parking lot.&lt;br /&gt;Lumaki ang mata ng lola dahil wala ang Range Rover niya sa spot na pinark-an niya kagabi. But enyweys, di naman masyadong lumaki ang kanyang mata kasi natakpan lang pala iyon ng isa pang car... FJ Cruiser na kulay yellow, kaya ayun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ngunit, subalit, datapwat... may lumaki ulit... hindi na ang mata niya kundi ang ilong niya this time, with kasamang usok to the side kasi nakita niyang may naka-block na isang mitsubishi lancer sa kanyang Range Rover. Uminit ang ulo ni Drew. Inikot ikot niya ang sasakyan, baka sakaling nag-iwan ng mobile number para matawagan in case of need, you know... Abah wala... May mga resibo lang sa loob at panay newspaper na nakalatag sa floor ng kanyang kotse. Wattudu? Wattudu? Tinawagan niya ang Diamond Lease Rent-A-Car kasi apparently, the car was just rented from this company. Ang sabi ng voice message, the office is closed right now, chuva chenes and all. Alas otso pa daw nagbubukas ang opisina nila. For other inquiries, tawag daw sa ibang number. Dial naman kaagad ang Drew-ha, pero walang sumasagot. Kaya hayan, while on the phone trying to reach whoever can help with her life and death situation, nag-iisip na ang Drew-ha ng sasabihin niya kapag lumabas ang may ari ng sasakyan...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What the hell is this?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Do you own this parking lot? hah???"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the back of her mind, nagpa-praktis na ang lola sa sasabihin niya sa may-ari ng Mitsubishi Lancer na yun... Abah matawagan na nga ang police...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dial 999. "Azalamhekoaje, zaw hkllea wikej?" Sabi ng arabo sa kabilang linya.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hello, English" ang sagot ni Drew&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes English" sabi ng police sa line.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I need your assistance on something. Someone has blocked my car in the parking lot. I can not go out, can you please help me in getting the number of the owner of this car?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Okay, please dial 800-8888, they will help you"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ayan dial na naman ng number si lola.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dial 800-8888. "Azalamhekoaje, zaw hkllea wikej?" Sabi ulit ng arabo sa kabilang linya.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hello, English" ang sagot ulit ni Drew&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes English" sagot din ulit&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I need your assistance on something. Someone has blocked my car in the parking lot. I can not go out, can you please help me in getting the number of the owner of this car?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Okay please hold…"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Naka hold si Drew sa line.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Naka hold pa rin, 20 years na ang lumipas...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nung ika 25th year, nag-iisip na naman ang Drew ng iba pa niyang sasabihin kapag lumabas ang may-ari ng sasakyan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Are you blind? Did you know someone is parked here?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Did you even realize that you wasted 30 years of my precious time?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You are the most insensitive person I've seen in this planet"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You are a very inconsiderate and irresponsible person"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You do not realize the trouble you make to other people. You should not do this. I can not let go of this. You should be sentenced to life imprisonment for this!!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;28 years na naka-hold pa rin ang imbiyernang gurla-loo sa phone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nung pagpatak ng 31st year, may isang payatot na indiyanong lalake ang lumabas sa lobby ng building. Ihinanda na ni Drew ang sarili sa pagduduro at pag-papaksiyet sa indiyanong paparating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ayyyyy!!! magtatapon lang pala ng basura. Akala ni Drew eh siya na ang may-ari ng car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kasunod ng Indiyano ay isa namang Pilipino, medyo mahaba ang buhok, may balbas sa baba, naka polo ng heaven-blue.. (hehehe… heaven blue), naka back pack at makinis ang balat (anong kinalaman ng kinis ng balat dun). Nakatingin siya kay Drew.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Napalaki ang isang mata ni Drew. Ibinaba ang phone sabay tanong ng “Kabayan sasakyan mo ba to?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Oo, kabayan…”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Naku, late na kasi ako sa opisina” pa tweetums pa tong lukaret na to!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Pasensiya ka na ha, ito ba ang sasakyan mo” Sabay turo sa jaguar ni Drew.. este Range Rover pala.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Oo” sagot naman ng Drew-ha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Pasensiya na ulit hah”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dina sumagot si Drew. Malay ba niyang Pilipino pala ang may-ari nun? Eh ang mga naka-ready niyang dialogue eh English???? Hhhmpppf!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Buwisitiitt!! BURAOT!!! Sabay harurot ng kanyang KIA Pride….&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7713733000419917087-1796657214973853971?l=wattuduyanie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/feeds/1796657214973853971/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7713733000419917087&amp;postID=1796657214973853971&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/1796657214973853971'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/1796657214973853971'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/2009/06/typical-fighting-scene-in-wanna-be-drew.html' title='A Typical Fighting Scene in Wanna-Be-Drew-Barrymore’s Wansapanataym Life'/><author><name>Yanie's Ka-blags!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11501502004310550922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SU-VzSOLKfI/AAAAAAAAAAM/CJLGeE1rmx0/S220/girlumbrellabanner.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7713733000419917087.post-3030632919236543355</id><published>2009-06-08T15:05:00.004+04:00</published><updated>2009-06-11T10:44:30.695+04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ala Lang'/><title type='text'>I just want to share - versions of the poem - "Tonight I can write the saddest lines"</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Tonight I can write the saddest lines&lt;br /&gt;Original By: Pablo Neruda &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/tonight-i-can-write-the-saddest-lines/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight I can write the saddest lines.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Write, for example,'The night is shattered&lt;br /&gt;and the blue stars shiver in the distance.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The night wind revolves in the sky and sings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight I can write the saddest lines.&lt;br /&gt;I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Through nights like this one I held her in my arms&lt;br /&gt;I kissed her again and again under the endless sky.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She loved me sometimes, and I loved her too.&lt;br /&gt;How could one not have loved her great still eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight I can write the saddest lines.&lt;br /&gt;To think that I do not have her. To feel that I have lost her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To hear the immense night, still more immense without her.&lt;br /&gt;And the verse falls to the soul like dew to the pasture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What does it matter that my love could not keep her.&lt;br /&gt;The night is shattered and she is not with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is all. In the distance someone is singing. In the distance.&lt;br /&gt;My soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My sight searches for her as though to go to her.&lt;br /&gt;My heart looks for her, and she is not with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The same night whitening the same trees.&lt;br /&gt;We, of that time, are no longer the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I no longer love her, that's certain, but how I loved her.&lt;br /&gt;My voice tried to find the wind to touch her hearing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another's. She will be another's. Like my kisses before.&lt;br /&gt;Her voide. Her bright body. Her inifinite eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I no longer love her, that's certain, but maybe I love her. &lt;br /&gt;Love is so short, forgetting is so long.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because through nights like this one I held her in my arms&lt;br /&gt;my sould is not satisfied that it has lost her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Though this be the last pain that she makes me suffer&lt;br /&gt;and these the last verses that I write for her. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;ITO ANG NAKAKA-ALIW - VERSION ni MARK ANGELES&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kaya kong magbitiw ng bitter words ngayong gabi.&lt;br /&gt;Mag-scribble-skribulan halimbawa: "Ang gabi ay pilantod&lt;br /&gt;at nangangalantutay, bugbog-sarado, ang mga bituin sa malayo.&lt;br /&gt;Paroo’t parito ang hangin at ngumangawang parang baka. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kaya kong magbitiw ng bitter words ngayong gabi.&lt;br /&gt;Labs ko sya, at minsan daw labs nya rin ako. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sa mga gabing tulad nito, nilalamas ko sya sa aking kandungan.&lt;br /&gt;Nilalaplap ko sya sa silong ng marvelous na kalangitan.&lt;br /&gt;Labs nya ko, at minsan labs ko rin sya.&lt;br /&gt;Panong di ko mamahalin ang malalaki’t bilugan nyang mga mata–&lt;br /&gt;parang pugita? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kaya kong magbitiw ng bitter words ngayong gabi.&lt;br /&gt;Imagine kong wala sya sakin. Ma-feel kong na-lost ko na sya. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mapakinggan ko ang gabing OA, mas lalong OA dahil wala sya.&lt;br /&gt;At ang talinhaga ay dumidila sa malay tulad ng hamog sa talahib.&lt;br /&gt;Ano pa bang meron dyan, Ineng, kung hindi sya mapapasaakin?&lt;br /&gt;Period. Sa malayo, may ngumangawa. Sa malayo.&lt;br /&gt;Aburido ang multo ko sa pagkawala nya. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At para bagang nandyan lang sya sa tabi-tabi, hinahanap ko pa sya.&lt;br /&gt;Hinahanap sya ng puso ko, kapag wala sya sa tabi ko.&lt;br /&gt;Ang gabi ring ito’y nagkukulapol ng dirty white sa mga troso.&lt;br /&gt;Hindi na kami ang dating kaming kami. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hindi ko na sya labs, pramis, pero labs na labs ko sya dati.&lt;br /&gt;Hinahagilap ng hininga ko ang hangin para bugahan sya. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nilalaplap na sya ng iba, tulad ng paglaplap ko sa kanya.&lt;br /&gt;Ang boses nya, ang seksi nyang wankata, ang for layp nyang mga mata. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hindi ko na sya labs, pramis, pero medyo labidabs ko pa rin sya.&lt;br /&gt;Maigsi lang ang lablayp ko pero ang makalimot,&lt;br /&gt;sangkatutak na 50 golden years ang inaabot. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dahil sa mga gabing ganito nilalamas ko sya sa aking kandungan,&lt;br /&gt;Aburido ang multo ko sa pagkawala nya. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kahit ito na ang last chance ko para magmaasim&lt;br /&gt;at ito na rin ang huling chuminess ko sa kanya&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please click here for Allan John Andres' version&lt;br /&gt;http://www.filipinowriter.com/mula-kay-pablo-neruda&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7713733000419917087-3030632919236543355?l=wattuduyanie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/feeds/3030632919236543355/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7713733000419917087&amp;postID=3030632919236543355&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/3030632919236543355'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/3030632919236543355'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/2009/06/i-just-want-to-share-versions-of-poem.html' title='I just want to share - versions of the poem - &quot;Tonight I can write the saddest lines&quot;'/><author><name>Yanie's Ka-blags!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11501502004310550922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SU-VzSOLKfI/AAAAAAAAAAM/CJLGeE1rmx0/S220/girlumbrellabanner.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7713733000419917087.post-3301039021484445449</id><published>2009-06-07T17:24:00.008+04:00</published><updated>2009-11-05T17:39:44.326+04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sh**s I Made for Songs I Like'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='In ENGLISH Shiznits'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Arenophile'/><title type='text'>Not Yet</title><content type='html'>(Inspired by the song of Robbie Williams - Make Me Pure)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.seekasong.com/mp3player/player.swf" width="250" height="30" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" flashvars="file=http://www.rocktheverve.com/files/03_Make_Me_Pure_-_Intensive_Care_-_Robbie_Williams.mp3&amp;amp;skin=http://www.seekasong.com/mp3player/seekasong.swf"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.seekasong.com/search.php?artist=Robbie+Williams" target="_blank"&gt;Robbie Williams MP3&lt;/a&gt; from &lt;a href="http://www.seekasong.com/" target="_blank"&gt;Free MP3 Downloads&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I drank 5 cans of beer tonight&lt;br /&gt;I’m sure the following day’s not gonna be bright&lt;br /&gt;I thought of laying down my head for sleep&lt;br /&gt;Lord make me pure… I cried as I creep&lt;br /&gt;… but not yet&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I stopped by a small store&lt;br /&gt;Grabbed a pack of cigarette&lt;br /&gt;Sneaked a gum in my pocket&lt;br /&gt;I breathe out a lonely sigh&lt;br /&gt;As I stepped out of the spot,&lt;br /&gt;with the gum on my pocket&lt;br /&gt;I closed my eyes while walking away…&lt;br /&gt;I am saying these funny words as I sway&lt;br /&gt;Lord make me pure,&lt;br /&gt;…but not yet&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I stumbled upon a beggar in the street&lt;br /&gt;He asked for some money so he could eat&lt;br /&gt;I pretended to not see him, that’s what I did&lt;br /&gt;But his voice is still echoing in my wits…&lt;br /&gt;I tried to cover both of my ears&lt;br /&gt;So I myself would not hear&lt;br /&gt;what my scruples is about to prick&lt;br /&gt;With a helmet covering my head…&lt;br /&gt;Lord make me pure, I said&lt;br /&gt;…but not yet&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finally reached home,&lt;br /&gt;A woman is at my door,&lt;br /&gt;I can see the house so spotless&lt;br /&gt;“Good evening”, I think I heard her utter&lt;br /&gt;I wanted to give back a smile&lt;br /&gt;To let her know I also care for her&lt;br /&gt;But I am decided, that my life is a mess&lt;br /&gt;I wanted to say, Lord please make me pure&lt;br /&gt;… but not yet&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was that night, as I went to sleep&lt;br /&gt;After passing by people, after passing by life&lt;br /&gt;I was grabbing my chest as it suddenly got tight&lt;br /&gt;I was kicking the air, my clasped hands are up high&lt;br /&gt;I wanted to shout beneath a voice I couldn’t get&lt;br /&gt;Please Lord, not now, please Lord,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NOT YET…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7713733000419917087-3301039021484445449?l=wattuduyanie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/feeds/3301039021484445449/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7713733000419917087&amp;postID=3301039021484445449&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/3301039021484445449'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/3301039021484445449'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/2009/06/not-yet.html' title='Not Yet'/><author><name>Yanie's Ka-blags!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11501502004310550922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SU-VzSOLKfI/AAAAAAAAAAM/CJLGeE1rmx0/S220/girlumbrellabanner.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7713733000419917087.post-2980826584267455431</id><published>2009-06-03T16:36:00.001+04:00</published><updated>2009-06-11T10:46:28.360+04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ka-blog-gastugan'/><title type='text'>Some more lessons I am still learning in life - Part 3</title><content type='html'>1.  &lt;strong&gt;WOW MALI.&lt;/strong&gt;  Mahirap aminin at tanggapin na mali ka...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  &lt;strong&gt;LISTEN.&lt;/strong&gt;  Learn to listen.  Sa isang diskusyon, natuto akong manginig...  este makinig...  at natuto rin akong tumanggap ng rason.  Kasi hindi palaging ako ang tama...  Dahil kung hindi ko gagawin ito, baka mabalik ako sa lesson number 1.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.  &lt;strong&gt;INFANT.&lt;/strong&gt;  Ngayon kung sa isang diskusyon ay nakinig ka nang mabuti at naniniwala ka pa ring tama ka, puwes ituring mo na lang na ang kadiskusyon mo ay isang baby... Baby na nanghihingi ng lollipop...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.  &lt;strong&gt;GENIUS.&lt;/strong&gt;  Mahirap maging henyo.  Either mamamatay kang bata o tatanda kang baliw.  Kaya nga di ako nag-pursue sa career na ito eh, ayan matandang baliw na ako...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.  &lt;strong&gt;DEADLINE.&lt;/strong&gt;  Lahat...  as in lahat ng bagay ay may DEADLINE!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6.  &lt;strong&gt;LOST &amp; LOSER.&lt;/strong&gt;  At an average life span of 50, at some point, you'll get lost, or become a loser.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7.  &lt;strong&gt;UMALIS AT MAIWAN.&lt;/strong&gt;  Hindi ko pa rin alam ang mas masakit sa dalawa...  ang maiwan o ang umalis pero dimo magawa...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8.  &lt;strong&gt;HIGH.&lt;/strong&gt;  Napakaraming ibig sabihin ng "haaaay..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9.  &lt;strong&gt;BUBBLE WRAP.&lt;/strong&gt;  I learned to bubble wrap myself.  You can prick every bubble of my patience, I am still protected and you are not.  Mas mahirap ang daan papuntang Balik-balik...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10.  &lt;strong&gt;UTANG NA LOOB.&lt;/strong&gt;  Bakit kaya mahirap bayaran ang utang na loob?  kaya ako dapat palaging CA$$$HH...  para walang samaan ng loob...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Panay lamang loob ang nakain ko ngayong araw nato!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7713733000419917087-2980826584267455431?l=wattuduyanie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/feeds/2980826584267455431/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7713733000419917087&amp;postID=2980826584267455431&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/2980826584267455431'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/2980826584267455431'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/2009/06/some-more-lessons-i-am-still-learning.html' title='Some more lessons I am still learning in life - Part 3'/><author><name>Yanie's Ka-blags!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11501502004310550922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SU-VzSOLKfI/AAAAAAAAAAM/CJLGeE1rmx0/S220/girlumbrellabanner.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7713733000419917087.post-6734688199172187375</id><published>2009-05-31T17:18:00.001+04:00</published><updated>2009-06-11T10:46:51.172+04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ka-blog-gastugan'/><title type='text'>ano nang nangyari sayo?</title><content type='html'>Bakit dati, iniisip mo ang bawat hakbang mong gagawin?&lt;br /&gt;Bakit dati, laging nasa isip mo ang ibang tao?&lt;br /&gt;Bakit dati, pinapakiramdaman mo ang nararamdaman nila?&lt;br /&gt;Bakit dati, wala kang hinangad kundi ang ikatutuwa ng iba?&lt;br /&gt;Bakit dati, isusubo mo na nga lang ipapamigay mo pa?&lt;br /&gt;Bakit dati, alam mo kung ano ang tama?&lt;br /&gt;Bakit dati, marunong kang lumuhod, pumikit, umiyak at magpakumbaba?&lt;br /&gt;Bakit dati, kilala mo pa ang sarili mo?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ngayon, bahala na lang palagi si batman sayo.&lt;br /&gt;Ngayon, wala ka nang paki.&lt;br /&gt;Ngayon, manhid ka na.&lt;br /&gt;Ngayon, pag iiyak sila, iiyak ka rin... mas malakas pa, tragis naman oo!&lt;br /&gt;Ngayon, isusubo mo na kaagad, habang walang nakakakita. garapal ka na...&lt;br /&gt;Ngayon, ang tama mo, nasobrahan na.&lt;br /&gt;Ngayon, rinarayuma ka na dahil lagi kang nakatayo, naka chin-up pa, dika na nga minumuta kasi dika na natutulog&lt;br /&gt;Ngayon, pati si batman, itinatwa ka na.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kainis na buhay to!!!  Nakaka-uta na!!! aaargggh!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7713733000419917087-6734688199172187375?l=wattuduyanie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/feeds/6734688199172187375/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7713733000419917087&amp;postID=6734688199172187375&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/6734688199172187375'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/6734688199172187375'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/2009/05/ano-nang-nangyari-sayo.html' title='ano nang nangyari sayo?'/><author><name>Yanie's Ka-blags!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11501502004310550922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SU-VzSOLKfI/AAAAAAAAAAM/CJLGeE1rmx0/S220/girlumbrellabanner.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7713733000419917087.post-6035847980737561241</id><published>2009-05-24T16:06:00.001+04:00</published><updated>2009-06-11T10:47:07.335+04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ka-blog-gastugan'/><title type='text'>Ever Simple Lessons I learned in Life - Part 2</title><content type='html'>1.  &lt;strong&gt;Depensib vs Opensib.&lt;/strong&gt;  Kapag inokray ka at sinabihan ka ng "Oh, eh bakit ka defensive???" sa gitna ng mala-walang katapusan mong pagtatanggol sa sarili mo...  eto isagot mo...  "At least, di ako offensive!!!"  with all the sarcasm in the universe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  &lt;strong&gt;Foldable.&lt;/strong&gt;  Kapag namili ka ng gamit, i-aplay mo ang prinsipyong ito...  "Dapat natutupi, para maipadala sa pinas"  Mapa bed man ito o dining table.  Dika lang makakatipid...  makaka-save ka pa ng space!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.  &lt;strong&gt;Be yourself.&lt;/strong&gt;  Eto natutunan ko kay kumareng Ropa Guttierez nung sumali ako sa Ms Universe (hehe).  "You'll never go wrong if you just be yourself..."  Eto naman ang isinagot ko sa kanya nung nag chat kami...  "u r right there, sis... ppl will either take u seriously or treat u like shit... either way, u can never please everybody"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.  &lt;strong&gt;Bacon &amp; egg&lt;/strong&gt;.  Nangingitlog lang pala ang manok para makakain ka ng egg... ano nga pala ang bacon???  i need enlightenment!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.  &lt;strong&gt;Starbucks.&lt;/strong&gt;  Di pwede ang titigan sa kapehan...  dapat may daldalan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6.  &lt;strong&gt;Hopeless.&lt;/strong&gt; Wala na akong pag-asang yumaman.  I don't need thank you's, I need CAAA$$$$HH!!!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7.  &lt;strong&gt;Fixer.&lt;/strong&gt;  Kayang kaya kong mag-assemble ng cabinet at shoe rack!!! woohhoo... fixer to!!! fixer!!!!...  langya kayong mga patan kayo, akala niyo maiisahan niyo ko hah!!!...  Naholdap ako ng 10dhs sa naif, nyeta!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8.  &lt;strong&gt;Reklamo.&lt;/strong&gt;  Kung rereklamo ka, siguraduhin mong ang inireklamo mo eh pwedeng solusyonan.  Kung tapos na at di na magawan ng paraan, utang na loob tumahimik ka na lang, pwede??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. &lt;strong&gt;Disabled.&lt;/strong&gt;  Mas maganda daw maging bingi kesa bulag.. hahaha..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10.  &lt;strong&gt;Hayden Kam.&lt;/strong&gt;  Walang ka-kwenta kwenta ang scandal ni katrina halili at hayden kho.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yun lang muna ngayon...  habang malabnaw ang utak ko, kumakalat hanggang tenga ko...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7713733000419917087-6035847980737561241?l=wattuduyanie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/feeds/6035847980737561241/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7713733000419917087&amp;postID=6035847980737561241&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/6035847980737561241'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/6035847980737561241'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/2009/05/ever-simple-lessons-i-learned-in-life.html' title='Ever Simple Lessons I learned in Life - Part 2'/><author><name>Yanie's Ka-blags!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11501502004310550922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SU-VzSOLKfI/AAAAAAAAAAM/CJLGeE1rmx0/S220/girlumbrellabanner.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7713733000419917087.post-6616051277006860945</id><published>2009-05-20T16:14:00.001+04:00</published><updated>2009-06-11T10:48:00.006+04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ka-blog-gastugan'/><title type='text'>Simple Lessons I Learned in Life</title><content type='html'>1. Honor your word. Even though, most of the time, the words you speak are taken for granted... but you'll never know when someone expects you to keep it. Learn to live this principle. It will make relationships stronger... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Friendship is important. And I mean very very important.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. You wake up early in a bright room. You breathe easy, too. Especially without curtains. I did not know I can be an early riser.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. You don't control the circle of life. Not all your plans, not all the projections in your mind will happen. Kahit manghuhula ka, hindi pa rin lahat ng sinabi mo ay matutupad ayon sa sinabi mo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Insensitivity is a hopeless case. For me, it's better to have pride than be insensitive. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. If you move to a new house, be sure the new one is worth all the headache.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Lumingon ka sa iyong pinanggalingan dahil babalik ka rin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Wag mag invest sa mga bagong gamit dahil sasama lang loob mo pag binenta mo. Lalo na pag pinalaki mo sila ng 2 and a half years (huhuhu) I can't let you go my fishes!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. Natuto akong magsalita ng mga paking-siyet sa mga itik na alipores ng ex-landlord ko. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. SIZE DOES MATTER!!!!!!! (grrr...)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7713733000419917087-6616051277006860945?l=wattuduyanie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/feeds/6616051277006860945/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7713733000419917087&amp;postID=6616051277006860945&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/6616051277006860945'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/6616051277006860945'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/2009/05/simple-lessons-i-learned-in-life_20.html' title='Simple Lessons I Learned in Life'/><author><name>Yanie's Ka-blags!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11501502004310550922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SU-VzSOLKfI/AAAAAAAAAAM/CJLGeE1rmx0/S220/girlumbrellabanner.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7713733000419917087.post-2616432216622887683</id><published>2009-05-06T10:04:00.003+04:00</published><updated>2009-11-05T17:40:12.369+04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='In ENGLISH Shiznits'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Arenophile'/><title type='text'>A Persian Carpet</title><content type='html'>A HAIKU&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Beautifully weaved&lt;br /&gt;Lace uniquely intertwined&lt;br /&gt;Colors are so bright&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Crafted with pleasure&lt;br /&gt;By little fingers and hands&lt;br /&gt;Designed with fine art&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Carpets from Persia&lt;br /&gt;Are just but mats on the floor&lt;br /&gt;Just rugs filled with dust&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You have to bow low&lt;br /&gt;So you can appreciate&lt;br /&gt;Bend your knee even&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meant to be tread on&lt;br /&gt;One foot after another&lt;br /&gt;Filaments get loose&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soon as one gets by&lt;br /&gt;After one feels the warmness&lt;br /&gt;Beauty is dusted&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;05 May 2009&lt;br /&gt;2:51am&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author's Note&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;A Persian Rug. So beautifully crafted but always taken for granted.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please leave your comment...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, view other comments here...&lt;br /&gt;http://www.filipinowriter.com/a-persian-carpet-0&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7713733000419917087-2616432216622887683?l=wattuduyanie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/feeds/2616432216622887683/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7713733000419917087&amp;postID=2616432216622887683&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/2616432216622887683'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/2616432216622887683'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/2009/05/persian-carpet.html' title='A Persian Carpet'/><author><name>Yanie's Ka-blags!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11501502004310550922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SU-VzSOLKfI/AAAAAAAAAAM/CJLGeE1rmx0/S220/girlumbrellabanner.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7713733000419917087.post-6863253825422751007</id><published>2009-05-03T20:50:00.003+04:00</published><updated>2009-11-05T17:41:02.632+04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='In ENGLISH Shiznits'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='short stories'/><title type='text'>Better Left Unsaid...</title><content type='html'>25 April 2009&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Do you want to tell me something?” You asked me while I was busy caressing your bare back. This is the part where I enjoy the dessert after a very wonderful, blissful and passionate meal which I know will end in a short while. We both lay naked. The coldness of air coming out from the AC is striking just about right to purge the warm sensation emitting from my body. As always, the feeling is unexplainable. It’s so addictive that the thought of me leaving you is enough to gloom the ecstatic moment I am in right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went on kissing your earlobes, passing through your cheeks and went down to your neck. My lips are streaming that it glides so effortlessly at whatever it traces. I heard you moan. It’s giving me the hint that you are wanting this, that you liked it like this. But did it give you the hint that I liked this too? That I’m wanting this every time I get left alone?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Why did you ask? What made you think that?” I suddenly remembered your hanging question, as I was softly whispering near your ears. And then I gently kissed your forehead, and then your nose, then your lips… Once again I indulged myself with the sweetness of your tongue. I savored the taste and continued devouring your lips as if this is going to be the last time these two lips will meet, these two tongues will intertwine, the last for two souls to share the warmth and passion of being one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sensed you stopping the kiss for a while. I figured, this is the moment when you are trying to make me go back to my senses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I can feel that you want to tell me something” You went on… I am back to my senses alright. I deliberately hid my face behind you. I can smell the sweet smell of your black hair. I let out an ardent breathe that reached your nape. If I were to feel that, I would shiver. I would again be provoked. I am not sure if at that moment you’d feel the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did not want you to see that my eyes were starting to get damp. So I embraced you from the back, reached my hand out to your chest and cupped your breast. I can feel your heart pounding so fast. I can also feel my tears falling. You asked me something and I know you are waiting for my answer. And so I just said “No, there is nothing I want to tell you…” But another part of me is trembling… Another voice is trying to come out and would want to shout “Yes… I have so many things to tell you. But I can probably just make you discern them” Somehow, I know you felt a warm moist dropped at your uncovered skin. You did not say anything. The back of your head is still what I see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this is my last few minutes with you. I stood up naked and started gathering up my clothes, put them all on, grabbed my bag and headed for the door. One last look, I said goodbye and you waved. And just like the other waves and goodbyes, I walked away from that closed door behind me with a heavy heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once again, you believed in a lie that I voiced out, instead of the silent truth I was trying to shout.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7713733000419917087-6863253825422751007?l=wattuduyanie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/feeds/6863253825422751007/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7713733000419917087&amp;postID=6863253825422751007&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/6863253825422751007'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/6863253825422751007'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/2009/05/better-left-unsaid.html' title='Better Left Unsaid...'/><author><name>Yanie's Ka-blags!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11501502004310550922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SU-VzSOLKfI/AAAAAAAAAAM/CJLGeE1rmx0/S220/girlumbrellabanner.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7713733000419917087.post-2540595775588941706</id><published>2009-04-21T21:49:00.001+04:00</published><updated>2009-06-11T10:49:18.984+04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Koleksiyon ng Buhangin'/><title type='text'>Carlos</title><content type='html'>Minsa'y binigyan mo ng ngiti ang buhay ko&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pinaunawa mo sa puso kong bato &lt;br /&gt;...na minsan okay lang maging mahina, &lt;br /&gt;...na okay lang ang magmukmok, &lt;br /&gt;...na okay lang ang pumunas ng luha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pinilit mong buksan ang isip kong naging kulungan ng maraming pangamba.  &lt;br /&gt;Hinukay mo ang mga nakalibing na sama ng loob.  &lt;br /&gt;Ibinilad ang lahat ng kabuktutan at kahinaan.&lt;br /&gt;Tinuruan mo akong harapin ang mga iyon...  &lt;br /&gt;Tinuruan mo akong labanan ang mga iyon.  &lt;br /&gt;Tinuruan mo akong maging malakas, &lt;br /&gt;sa gitna ng mga bagyong humahampas &lt;br /&gt;sa gitna ng pagkukunwaring ako'y malakas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mga labi ko ngayo'y natutong umawit&lt;br /&gt;Ng mga kantang, noo'y wala namang halaga&lt;br /&gt;Binigyan mo ng himig ang bawat paglanghap ko ng hangin&lt;br /&gt;Upang maisatinig ang mga itinatagong damdamin&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Subalit ngayo'y nawasak ka na, Carlos...  &lt;br /&gt;Masakit na ako'y iniwan mo na lang bigla&lt;br /&gt;Lumuha ako nang sobra, ako ngayo'y nagluluksa&lt;br /&gt;Marami akong pangarap para sa yo, para sa atin...&lt;br /&gt;Paano na ako ngayon? Sabihin mo sa akin...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;paano na ang mga umagang pilit minamadali... &lt;br /&gt;upang pagsapit ng gabi'y ika'y makaniig muli&lt;br /&gt;paano na ang sofa at ang maliit na mesa &lt;br /&gt;na siyang mga saksi sa ating pagiging isa?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;paano kita ililibing Carlos?&lt;br /&gt;Kung ang puso ko'y&lt;br /&gt;Sa iyo pa ri'y nakagapos?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author's Note:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kagabi po nawasak ang regalo sa aking gitara...Carlos po ang pangalan niya. mahal ko siya kaya ako ngayo'y nagluluksa...  salamat po sa inyong pakikiramay.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7713733000419917087-2540595775588941706?l=wattuduyanie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/feeds/2540595775588941706/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7713733000419917087&amp;postID=2540595775588941706&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/2540595775588941706'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/2540595775588941706'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/2009/04/carlos.html' title='Carlos'/><author><name>Yanie's Ka-blags!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11501502004310550922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SU-VzSOLKfI/AAAAAAAAAAM/CJLGeE1rmx0/S220/girlumbrellabanner.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7713733000419917087.post-7404069787345705963</id><published>2009-04-16T17:19:00.003+04:00</published><updated>2009-11-05T17:44:44.802+04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='In ENGLISH Shiznits'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Arenophile'/><title type='text'>Escape</title><content type='html'>I’m wishing for a swift and quick escape&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, now, I want that now…!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not in dreams, not to hallucinate&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Only 2 weeks, that’s what I vow&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hoping that upon my return&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’d stop running from my darkness&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’d stop being cold &amp;amp; grim&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’d stop being stupid &amp;amp; dim&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’d stop frowning, fretting, complaining&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;… crawling, creeping, crying&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;… and so on and so forth&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7713733000419917087-7404069787345705963?l=wattuduyanie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/feeds/7404069787345705963/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7713733000419917087&amp;postID=7404069787345705963&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/7404069787345705963'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/7404069787345705963'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/2009/04/escape.html' title='Escape'/><author><name>Yanie's Ka-blags!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11501502004310550922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SU-VzSOLKfI/AAAAAAAAAAM/CJLGeE1rmx0/S220/girlumbrellabanner.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7713733000419917087.post-1119971305283868786</id><published>2009-04-13T15:08:00.002+04:00</published><updated>2009-11-05T17:41:33.808+04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='In ENGLISH Shiznits'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Arenophile'/><title type='text'>Just the Man I want</title><content type='html'>On a red-platform carpet&lt;br /&gt;You squatted&lt;br /&gt;Hugging your beloved guitar&lt;br /&gt;All the passion, I can see from a far&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You twisted and turned the knobs&lt;br /&gt;Making each sound harmonize&lt;br /&gt;I can feel your zeal in every pluck&lt;br /&gt;The thrill gets in your eyes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wondered why you stood up&lt;br /&gt;You came near a friend and tapped his back&lt;br /&gt;You took the sticks from him&lt;br /&gt;And showed him how to drum&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For a second I thought you were John Bonham&lt;br /&gt;The beat, the hammer, so wild, oh man!&lt;br /&gt;The thumping, the pounding, the craze can’t stop&lt;br /&gt;You made me move my feet to bop&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You gave back the sticks to your buddy&lt;br /&gt;Who like me, was still in awe&lt;br /&gt;You stepped towards the ivories&lt;br /&gt;You are again about to start a show&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh no, you can’t be the same man&lt;br /&gt;Who just made magic with the drums&lt;br /&gt;As your finger stroke the first key&lt;br /&gt;And then rammed thru the last…&lt;br /&gt;I just can’t help but bow low&lt;br /&gt;As the harmony started to cast&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You played a song from Jars of Clay&lt;br /&gt;My all-time favorite band&lt;br /&gt;I’m officially in love with you that day&lt;br /&gt;My heart was clubbed by my right hand&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then finally you yelled out&lt;br /&gt;For your mates to come&lt;br /&gt;Mixed the sounds from the amp&lt;br /&gt;Fixed the wires and the mic stand&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You then grabbed the base guitar&lt;br /&gt;Oh yes, another instrument in your hand&lt;br /&gt;The sticks were clapped… 3,2,1&lt;br /&gt;You closed your eyes as you sang&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh such a flame my one-man-band&lt;br /&gt;I just wish you also had your delight in me&lt;br /&gt;I’m already sixty, and I’m still such a fan&lt;br /&gt;Gee, your music still resides&lt;br /&gt;…in my soul and memory&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.... Just the Impossible Man&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7713733000419917087-1119971305283868786?l=wattuduyanie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/feeds/1119971305283868786/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7713733000419917087&amp;postID=1119971305283868786&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/1119971305283868786'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/1119971305283868786'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/2009/04/one-man-band.html' title='Just the Man I want'/><author><name>Yanie's Ka-blags!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11501502004310550922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SU-VzSOLKfI/AAAAAAAAAAM/CJLGeE1rmx0/S220/girlumbrellabanner.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7713733000419917087.post-8977746387912370906</id><published>2009-04-10T18:05:00.004+04:00</published><updated>2009-11-05T17:42:08.705+04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Nang Lumapot ang Utak'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='In ENGLISH Shiznits'/><title type='text'>Tales of a Drunk Writer-Wannabe</title><content type='html'>I’ve been trying hard to find Chardonnay from under Mama’s bed… I know my Mom has deliberately hid this from me because I know, as usual, she wants to send this off to her kins to the Philippines. But I have to find Chardonnay. I need him right now. I can only accomplish the next few things that I have to do if I find Chardonnay. Finding him lies the fulfillment of my whole life’s aspirations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An ambition to contribute a write-up for a site that I have joined lately. I couldn’t understand why, for the so many poems and stories I’ve already written, I feel like there’s a big wall that’s blocking my view from where I am at right now. I feel so pressured and because of this I couldn’t squeeze something out from my mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tried to talk to Asus. He has proven himself to be a reliable and loyal friend these days. In fact, I am so used to talking and being with him everyday that I shiver when I do not commune with him. But at this point, even Asus couldn’t be of help. He even suggested that I sneak out a white wire to plug my ears so I can listen to deafening mp3’s so I can somehow spark something up. But it’s no use.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now that I’ve finally found Chardonnay, I gobbled him up like crazy, so excited for the spark to happen, so hoping for him to give me a story I could write. Yeah, I’ve already started one story, but it’s funny coz I’ve already finished half of Chardonnay but I still don’t know what the story is gonna be about. Asus is also trying to keep up with me, but I feel like even if I finish Chardonnay, I won’t be able to make a sense out of my story. I try to rest for a while, close my eyes but every time I do that, I feel like I am being sucked by a tornado, not upwards but downward. My mind is spinning round, my eyes are in circles…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With all hopes down low, I feel like I have to surrender to my bed and get the sleep I wanted. I’ll just try to go back to the story I’m trying to finish. But because I still have all the guts through Chardonnay’s spirit in my being, I’ll post this “thing” I just composed and hope something good comes out from it. (hik!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To view comments for this post, please click: &lt;a href="http://www.filipinowriter.com/isang-lasing-na-writer-wannabe"&gt;http://www.filipinowriter.com/isang-lasing-na-writer-wannabe&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7713733000419917087-8977746387912370906?l=wattuduyanie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/feeds/8977746387912370906/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7713733000419917087&amp;postID=8977746387912370906&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/8977746387912370906'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/8977746387912370906'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/2009/04/isang-lasing-na-writer-wannabe.html' title='Tales of a Drunk Writer-Wannabe'/><author><name>Yanie's Ka-blags!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11501502004310550922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SU-VzSOLKfI/AAAAAAAAAAM/CJLGeE1rmx0/S220/girlumbrellabanner.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7713733000419917087.post-6321455713474250529</id><published>2009-04-07T20:06:00.002+04:00</published><updated>2009-11-05T17:48:24.680+04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='In ENGLISH Shiznits'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Arenophile'/><title type='text'>I left my heart at Blue Hills, Turks &amp; Caicos</title><content type='html'>those times, I was a total blank&lt;br /&gt;I went my way, never looked back&lt;br /&gt;the place where I've learned to treasure moments&lt;br /&gt;taking my own sweet time, every memory…intense&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i enjoyed the waves and the ducks,&lt;br /&gt;I never even thought to turn back&lt;br /&gt;I made a fool out of myself,&lt;br /&gt;by singing the blues while crossing the highways&lt;br /&gt;by crying while laughing, awake but dreaming&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The amnesia is gone, I am back, now I know...&lt;br /&gt;but why...can I not write what I feel anymore?&lt;br /&gt;why can I not cry anytime I want to anymore?&lt;br /&gt;Did I lose that right for myself?&lt;br /&gt;has it been forgotten and left at Turks?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Might be that I have lost myself as I pursued the right path&lt;br /&gt;Coz I still feel like diving... playing, returning&lt;br /&gt;i am dying... and I’m still lost&lt;br /&gt;at Blue Hills, Turks &amp;amp; Caicos&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7713733000419917087-6321455713474250529?l=wattuduyanie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/feeds/6321455713474250529/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7713733000419917087&amp;postID=6321455713474250529&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/6321455713474250529'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/6321455713474250529'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/2009/04/i-left-my-heart-at-blue-hills-turks.html' title='I left my heart at Blue Hills, Turks &amp; Caicos'/><author><name>Yanie's Ka-blags!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11501502004310550922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SU-VzSOLKfI/AAAAAAAAAAM/CJLGeE1rmx0/S220/girlumbrellabanner.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7713733000419917087.post-6294124577114761983</id><published>2009-04-01T11:24:00.002+04:00</published><updated>2009-11-05T17:45:08.597+04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='In ENGLISH Shiznits'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Arenophile'/><title type='text'>Paradise of Promises</title><content type='html'>Gloomy… gloomy… gloomy&lt;br /&gt;The day is so gloomy&lt;br /&gt;Rain, rain, rain&lt;br /&gt;It’s freezing my brain&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;These are the times&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When my mind is grim&lt;br /&gt;When my life is dim&lt;br /&gt;When my spirit is weak&lt;br /&gt;And my future is bleak&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;… a stone cold heart&lt;br /&gt;… my existence torn apart&lt;br /&gt;… trapped in the dark&lt;br /&gt;… wretched in a dump&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly a ray of light&lt;br /&gt;You came along&lt;br /&gt;In the midst of my stormy night&lt;br /&gt;A shelter you’ve portioned&lt;br /&gt;You laid down protection&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a happy, lively, merry life&lt;br /&gt;In this room, I smiled, I l giggled, I laughed&lt;br /&gt;It was still stormy outside, but you promised me the sun&lt;br /&gt;After the rain you said will be cloud nine&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so this room I shared with you was paradise&lt;br /&gt;Of promises, you said you’ll keep&lt;br /&gt;When the rain stops, and the sun would rise&lt;br /&gt;You said in time, the words spoken we will reap&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just wait, in this room of promises&lt;br /&gt;Wait until the dark cloud parts&lt;br /&gt;Wait until the birds chirp and fly&lt;br /&gt;Wait till you bring me to the real paradise&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Been three years, since the last drop of rain&lt;br /&gt;The sun is so bright, the trees are so green&lt;br /&gt;The promised paradise is just at a hand&lt;br /&gt;But I’m still waiting, am I waiting in vain?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;And so please tell me… why do I still feel&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;Gloomy… gloomy… gloomy&lt;br /&gt;The day is so gloomy&lt;br /&gt;Rain, rain, rain&lt;br /&gt;Still freezing my brain&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To view comments on this post please click &lt;a href="http://www.filipinowriter.com/gloomy-gloomy-gloomy"&gt;http://www.filipinowriter.com/gloomy-gloomy-gloomy&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7713733000419917087-6294124577114761983?l=wattuduyanie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/feeds/6294124577114761983/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7713733000419917087&amp;postID=6294124577114761983&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/6294124577114761983'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/6294124577114761983'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/2009/04/paradise-of-promises.html' title='Paradise of Promises'/><author><name>Yanie's Ka-blags!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11501502004310550922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SU-VzSOLKfI/AAAAAAAAAAM/CJLGeE1rmx0/S220/girlumbrellabanner.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7713733000419917087.post-7919230099523530015</id><published>2009-03-26T17:51:00.002+04:00</published><updated>2009-11-05T17:48:52.848+04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='maikling kwento'/><title type='text'>A Promise to Armando</title><content type='html'>"Yanie, Yanie...!" Hamahangos ang pinsan kong si Rona, halatang halata sa namumuti niyang mukha ang matinding pagkabahala... "Wag kang mabibigla... pero kailangan mong sumama sa akin sa funeraria, ang Kuya Jay mo, patay na, pinatay si Kuya Jay-jay!!!..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Walang nagrehistro sa utak ko nang sinabi niya iyon. Naramdaman ko na lamang ang pagyakap sa akin ng napakalamig na hangin pagkarinig ko ng kanyang masamang balita. Parang biglang bumulaga sa akin ang mukha ni kamatayan... hawak hawak ang kanyang kalawit... Pilit kong inapuhap ang aking paghinga pagkarinig ko niyon, nanigas ang buo kong katawan. Hindi ko makalimutan ang sandaling nalaman kong pinaslang ang kuya ko... Kinse anyos pa lamang ako nuon. A-diyes ng Nobyembre.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dalawang buwan pa lamang nang mag-pasyang mag abroad ang nanay ko,sa kagustuhang maitaguyod ang aming paga-aral. Lahat kami'y magko-kolehiyo na, at si mama lamang ang inaasahan para isagawa ang responsibilidad para kami'y paaralin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wala si mama. Wala rin ang ate ko na naga-aral sa Manila. Nang mga sandaling iyon, mag-isa kong tinanggap ang malagim na bangungot na kahit sa pag-gising ay naruon pa rin...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Pinatay nila ang kuya mo, pinatay nila..." Paulit ulit na bumubulong sa aking utak ang mga nakakagimbal na katagang iyon, subalit pilit na itinatanggi nang kung anumang natitirang katinuan sa akin na "Hindi... hindi siya yun, hindi siya yun"&lt;br /&gt;________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nanonood kami ng TV isang hapon kasama ng aking pamilya, ilang taon lang ang nakaraan. Ang palabas, SOCO, paborito itong panoorin ni mama at wala akong pasok ng mga oras na iyon kaya't sa unang pagkakataon napanood ko ang palagi niyang kine-kwentong SOCO na sa patalastas ko rin lang napapanood. Isang lalake ang pinatay, itinapon ang kanyang bangkay sa gilid ng bukiran, nabaril sa ulo, naka-posas ang kamay... Ayon sa imbestigasyon, isa raw na naman itong kaso ng salvaging... Pagkatapos kong panoorin ang palabas na iyon, di na ako iniwan ng pagkabalisa. At hanggang sa aking pagtulog sinamahan ako non.&lt;br /&gt;________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Naglalakad ako sa isang maalikabok na daan. Mga kuliglig ang nasasalubong ko. Ang tanda ko'y inutusan ako ni mama para bumili ng suka... Narinig kong may mga taong sumisigaw sa 'di kalayuan... "May pinatay, may pinatay!"Dali dali akong sumama sa grupo ng mga taong tumatakbo patungo sa lugar kung saan nandoon ang pinatay... At dun nakita ko ang&lt;br /&gt;kuya ko... isang malamig na bangkay na ibinigti sa puno... tumingkad sa paningin ko ang asul niyang t-shirt, at siya'y nakaposas...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yanie... yanie..." nagising ako sa bahagyang pag-yugyog ng aking asawa sa aking balikat. "Umuungol ka, nananaginip ka na naman yata."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Matagal na akong hinahabol ng mga pangitaing iyon. Hindi ito ang unang beses na napanaginipan ko ang kuya ko... May gusto siyang ipahiwatig at alam ko yon, pero diko malaman kung paano ko uumpisahan.&lt;br /&gt;________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Kuya,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Marami akong dapat na singilin sayo... hindi ka pa dapat namatay. Gago ka eh, dapat nabigyan ka ng pagkakataong magbago, alam mo ba yon?!... Dimo man lang pinaramdam sa akin ang pagiging kuya mo... Ngayon, iiwanan mo akong may sama ng loob sayo? 'Di ka man lang nakabawi sa akin?!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Pero Kuya, eto ang pangako ko sayo... mananagot ang taong gumawa sayo nito... Ako ang sisingil sa kanila... Magbabayad sila...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Napakadami kong pagsisisi. Napaka iksi ng pagsasama namin ng kuya ko. Bumalik sa alaala ko nang nagkaroon ng matinding baha sa amin at ako'y kanyang kinarga sa kanyang likod upang itawid sa kabilang daan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Napangiti ako sa butiking pasalubong niya sa akin na kanyang ipina-salo habang kami'y kumakain. Diko iyon nasalo kaya bumulagta sa harap ng lola ko at ito'y napatili sa gulat at kasunod nuo'y paglipad ng mga pinggan at pagkain sa ere. Naalala ko ang mga away namin halos araw-araw, ang mga pangsu-sutil niya sa akin hanggang umiyak ako ng dugo, dahil sabi nga nila long-playing... Long playing na naman ang iyak ko habang isinusulat ko sa isang yellow paper ang aking hinagpis sa kanyang paglisan. At pagkatapos ay palihim kong isinilid sa paanan ng kanyang kabaong ang aking liham... May pangako ako sa kuya ko, at tutuparin ko iyon.&lt;br /&gt;________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sa pangatlong araw ng burol ng kuya ko dumating si mama galing abroad. At gaya ng inaasahan, ikamamatay ng isang ina ang anumang masamang pangyayari sa anak.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Bumangon ka na diyan Jay-jay... eto na ang singsing mo o... diba pinabibili mo ito sa akin? ibigay mo na sa girlfriend mo kung gusto mo, isanla mo na kung gusto mo... bumalik ka na jay..." ang hinagpis ni mama...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pinalitan namin ang suot ni kuya habang nakaburol. Ayaw daw niya ng nakabarong, hip-hop na metal kasi si kuya eh... ayaw niya ng baduy. Mahilig yun pumorma... Palibhasa heart throb sa mga kadalagahan. Natatandaan kong halos isang oras siyang paikot ikot sa salamin bago lumabas ng bahay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sa araw ng kanyang libing, halos panay mga kabataan ang naghatid sa kanya sa kanyang huling hantungan. Noon ko napagtanto na napakaraming naging kaibigan ng kuya ko. Napakarami niyang ka-tropa. Habang binabagtas namin ang daan mula simbahan patungong sementeryo, lahat ng tao'y napapalingon sa karro ni kuya... nagtataka... Paano nga nama'y ang tugtog, imbes na tugtog na pampatay, "November Rain" ng Guns and Roses, paborito niya kasi ang bandang ito. Rakenrol si kuya habang inililibing...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nagkantahan ang mga tropa ng&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"I'll be there for you&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;These five words I swear to you&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;When you breathe &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I wanna be the air for you"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kanta ni Bon Jovi, sinabayan ng pagbuhos ng ulan. At duon ko naintindihan kung gaano kalungkot ang ulan sa Nobyemre. Isang napakalungkot na reunion ng mga kaibigan ni kuya at ng pamilya.&lt;br /&gt;________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Labinlimang taon na ang lumipas matapos ang yugtong iyon ng buhay ko at ng pamilya namin. Nakapag move on na siguro ang bawat kaibigang dumalo sa libing na iyon. At kagaya ko, may mga anak na rin siguro sila. Ilang taong na nga ba dapat si Kuya ngayon? Kwarenta? Ilang anak na rin kaya meron siya? Sa ilang asawa?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ipinangalan ko ang panganay kong anak kay kuya. Halos magkabirthday din kasi sila, si EJ August 31, si Kuya, August 30. At magkamukha pa.&lt;br /&gt;________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nuon lamang isang linggo, habang ako'y abala sa paghahanap buhay, isang di ko kilalang tao ang lumapit sa akin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ma'am kayo po ba si Ma'am Yanie" ang tanong nito.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ay oo, ako nga po" sagot ko.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"May nagpapabigay po sa inyo nito" At duo'y inabot niya sa akin ang isang sobre. Noon ko lamang ulit nakita ang ganuong klase ng sobre dahil may nakalimbag pa itong "air-mail par avion", tanda ko kasing ganito ang mga ginagamit kong sobre sa pagpapadala ng sulat noong di pa nauuso ang internet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ay kanino ba galing ito 'nong?" tanong ko.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Diko po alam eh... basta pinamimigay lang po sa inyo." Ang maikling sagot ng mama.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Binuksan ko ang sobre at nakita ko ang isang lumang papel. Bigla akong kinilabutan pagkakita ko ang linalaman ng sobre. Para akong nakakita ng isang multo kahit na di ako naniniwala dito, ako'y nahintakutan... Ang sulat ko kay Kuya.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Paanong?" tanong ko sana sa mamang nag-abot subalit umalis na siya... Natanaw ko pa ang asul niyang damit pagka-liko niya sa kanto...&lt;br /&gt;_______________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Madaling araw ayon sa mga nakasaksi, tatlong binatilyo ang pinulot gamit ang isang owner type jeep sa tabi ng Anthony's Bar. Ang bar na ito ay popular na tambayan ng mga binatilyo sa tuwing walang pasok. Nakilala ng isang bata ang driver ng jeep bilang si SPO Taguiam. Sa pagkakasalaysay ng bata, tumatanggi ang mga binatilyo habang pinapapasok sila sa sasakyan, subalit bigla ring natigilan ang mga ito nang may binunot ang kasama ng pulis sa kanyang tagiliran. Pakiwari ng bata ang binunot nito ay baril pero di niya ito nakita. Si SPO2 Taguiam ay kilala sa bayan na iyon bilang bodyguard ng isang prominenteng tao. At kinabukasan nga'y pumutok na ang balita. "Tatlong binatilyo, natagpuang patay"&lt;br /&gt;________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ilalabas niyo ba ang epektos o gusto niyo pang mahirapan???" Sigaw ni SPO Taguiam sa mga binatilyo habang nakaluhod ang mga ito at nakaposas ang mga kamay nang patalikod.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sir, dipo namin alam ang sinasabi niyo" Nanginginig na sagot ni Jojit. Di niya na namalayan ang suntok na dumapo sa mukha niya pagkasabi niya nito.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Kinakausap ba kita? Anong hindi niyo alam, eh kayo ang nagsusuplay ng mga marijuana at shabu dito... Wag na kayong magkaila..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sir, nagiinuman lang naman po kami, dipo kami nag sha shabu o nagma marijuana" Sagot ni Jay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ayan... akala ko dika sasagot eh... Ikaw, ikaw ang dahilan kung bakit umalis si JD sa bahay ano, ikaw ba ang ipinagmamalaki niya? Ikaw ang bagong siyota niya ano?? Matagal na kitang minamanmanan... Mayabang ka eh..." Sinuntok nang sinuntok ang mukha neto. Di makapaglaban kahit gusto, pinaluhod at sinikmuraan&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sa kanyang natitirang lakas pilit niyang isinisagaw ang "P**** I**a ka!!! ginagahasa mo siya eh, tarantado ka!!! Kaya siya umalis sa inyo dahil demonyo ka!!!" Punong puno na ng dugo ang mukha ni Jay... Pilit kumakawala sa pagkakagapos upang ipagtanggol ang sarili, subalit wala siyang magawa... wala...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ako, tarantado?!, ito ang sayo gago!!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BANG!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bumagsak ang katawan ni Jay sa lupa, una ang ulo, habang nakaluhod. Ang mga dugo mula sa kanyang sentido ay unti unting bumaha sa lupa. Nakadilat ang mata, na waring nagsasabing, tapos na...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Iligpit mo na rin yang dalawa, baka kumanta pa yan. At pagkatapos tamnan mo na ng ebidensiya... palabasin mong pushers!"&lt;br /&gt;_______________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Muli'y nagising na naman ako sa isang masamang panaginip. Pinunasan ko ang nanlalamig kong pawis... "Kuya...!" ang tangi kong naisigaw sa ilalim ng aking lalamunan ngunit walang boses na lumalabas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Naramdaman ko ang pagkauhaw at duo'y pilit kong binangon ang sarili ko. Pinapakiramdaman ng paa ko ang aking tsinelas sa ilalim ng kama. Naramdaman ko ang malamig na semento sa aking talampakan ngunit bahagi neto ay isang banyagang bagay... hindi naman ito ang aking tsinelas, manipis, palagay ko'y isang papel. Ako'y lumuhod upang alamin kung ano iyon. At muli'y tumagaktak ang malalamig kong pawis nang makita kung ano ang nasa tabi ng aking tsinelas...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kinabukasan ay ang paggising ko sa isang panibagong hamon... May pangako ako at kailangan ko iyong tuparin.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7713733000419917087-7919230099523530015?l=wattuduyanie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/feeds/7919230099523530015/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7713733000419917087&amp;postID=7919230099523530015&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/7919230099523530015'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/7919230099523530015'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/2009/03/promise-to-armando.html' title='A Promise to Armando'/><author><name>Yanie's Ka-blags!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11501502004310550922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SU-VzSOLKfI/AAAAAAAAAAM/CJLGeE1rmx0/S220/girlumbrellabanner.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7713733000419917087.post-3742637226776303365</id><published>2009-03-24T10:06:00.002+04:00</published><updated>2009-11-05T17:44:01.759+04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='In ENGLISH Shiznits'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Arenophile'/><title type='text'>An Afternoon with Amedeo Modigliani</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/ScsYgmO1GXI/AAAAAAAAABI/_Jg7DylxS5g/s1600-h/modigliani+-+red+nude.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317370733338630514" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 153px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 100px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/ScsYgmO1GXI/AAAAAAAAABI/_Jg7DylxS5g/s320/modigliani+-+red+nude.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; My shawl is on the floor&lt;br /&gt;My garments everywhere&lt;br /&gt;I sensed my soul soar&lt;br /&gt;As the breathe of air stroked my bareness&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The afternoon was getting cold, I had nothing on me&lt;br /&gt;I was with this man, gaping at my physicality&lt;br /&gt;I tried to hunt beyond those eyes&lt;br /&gt;But they were just so vivid… and also oblivious&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He gently prodded me into a velvet divan&lt;br /&gt;He nodded, looking at the blue cushion&lt;br /&gt;He was silent, no hint of chatter&lt;br /&gt;His gasps are only what I hear&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For a second our eyes met&lt;br /&gt;I shuddered…&lt;br /&gt;I realized he wants me to recline&lt;br /&gt;I abided…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The sun rays perfectly angled,&lt;br /&gt;To my body… he studied&lt;br /&gt;The brush strokes began&lt;br /&gt;And so it started&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I blinked three times&lt;br /&gt;I was bashing a meaningful glimpse&lt;br /&gt;I tapped my fingers rested on my hips&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly I felt shyness and so I bit my lip&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please Amedeo, look through my heart… not just my breast&lt;br /&gt;Look through my smiles and the joy it begets&lt;br /&gt;Discover my free spirit… not just my submission&lt;br /&gt;Use my love as your paint,&lt;br /&gt;Coz I refuse to be just one of your impressions&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it’s just Amedeo… so familiar with beauty&lt;br /&gt;It’s just Amedeo… so inventive in his cruelty&lt;br /&gt;So tied up with his brushes, paint and passion&lt;br /&gt;I will never understand his peculiar mind&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How can I love him and hate him…&lt;br /&gt;Only a subject, today I am for him&lt;br /&gt;I bare it all… damn, I gave it all&lt;br /&gt;But in his canvas tomorrow, I’ll be immortal&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author's note: &lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;Ever wondered what's in a subject's mind?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are those who so dislike the nude that they find something indecent in the naked truth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a title="1846-1924, British Philosopher" href="http://www.famous-quotes.com/author.php?aid=920"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Francis H. Bradley&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;*The image is borrowed and its called "Red Nude"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;To view the comments for this post please click &lt;a href="http://www.filipinowriter.com/an-afternoon-with-amedeo-modigliani"&gt;http://www.filipinowriter.com/an-afternoon-with-amedeo-modigliani&lt;/a&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/7713733000419917087-3742637226776303365?l=wattuduyanie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/feeds/3742637226776303365/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7713733000419917087&amp;postID=3742637226776303365&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/3742637226776303365'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/3742637226776303365'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/2009/03/afternoon-with-amedeo-modigliani.html' title='An Afternoon with Amedeo Modigliani'/><author><name>Yanie's Ka-blags!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11501502004310550922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SU-VzSOLKfI/AAAAAAAAAAM/CJLGeE1rmx0/S220/girlumbrellabanner.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/ScsYgmO1GXI/AAAAAAAAABI/_Jg7DylxS5g/s72-c/modigliani+-+red+nude.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7713733000419917087.post-4382055521450684337</id><published>2009-03-21T22:03:00.002+04:00</published><updated>2009-11-05T17:47:10.748+04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='In ENGLISH Shiznits'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ka-blog-gastugan'/><title type='text'>My Son &amp; His Chicken Pox</title><content type='html'>My poor son…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Three days ago my son EJ got stricken by chicken pox. He got it from his little brother but his was worst because he’s got blisters all over his body… but the worst part is, the sores also emerged in his throat… and there were lots of them. It was so painful for him to swallow, let alone to eat. I can feel his pain… I know it’s a terrible pain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I want to share in this blog is the emotional bonding we’ve had when I was trying to force him to eat just so I can give his medicine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Anak, you have to be strong…” I’m trying to calm him while he was crying. “You have to take this sickness like a real, big man. Everyone of us had that when we were children, and we took that very bravely. So be brave, okay?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“But mom, it’s so painful, I don’t want to eat… it’s so painful… waaahhhh”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Okay, then I will have to bring you to the hospital again and they will insert a tube in your nose.” I was actually referring to a feeding tube. I remember, I used to feed my grandmother with that when she was sick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“What’s that for?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“The doctors will blend your food into liquid and they will put some long straw into your nose and your food will go through that.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Eiii, mommy that’s so disgusting…”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“So you really have to eat now”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“But I still can’t… Please help me mommy, it’s really painfullll” Oh he really looks bad and really in pain. Every time he swallows is a struggle. What a painful sight for a mom like me. If only I could do something for him. So I urged him to pray to God.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Lord, please, I don’t want EJ to suffer like this. I don’t want to see him with this pain. So please Lord, just give me the pain, let me suffer for him” I was crying while saying that, seriously.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He answered back the prayer by saying “No Lord… please don’t do that. Please don’t let my Mom suffer this terrible pain. I will face this like a brave man… I can do this.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then again, I was showing him that I was serious so I said “ Anak, I’d rather suffer the pain than see you like this. I don’t want you to feel this pain”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“No Mommy, don’t worry I can do this. I am a big man now. I also don’t want you to suffer.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so after that, was a long and agonizing feeding of 3 spoon-full of chicken noodle soup.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That same night, there came an emergency where I have to rush a friend in the hospital. I slept in the car till 4’o clock in the morning and the morning after, I think the prayer just came true. My son wasn’t complaining about his throat anymore and I’ve started to feel some sting in mine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so it was tonsillitis for me coupled with super body pains. I was officially sick. I even missed the Bubble Gang Gig because of this. I couldn’t eat, and the next thing I knew, I was repeating my son’s moans &amp;amp; groans.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Mommy, you look weak, why don’t you rest” EJ was telling me after having a half day sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I’ve rested enough already, I want to eat, but I can’t swallow, I think that sore-throat of yours was transferred to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Hmmm., then why don’t you use that tube in the nose thingy…” he said I started to laugh in the midst of the body pains. “Mommy, you have to be like me. You have to face this like a real woman. Be strong. You can do this. I know you can!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so the cycle began. Ahhh, children these days, what have they been eating?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7713733000419917087-4382055521450684337?l=wattuduyanie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/feeds/4382055521450684337/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7713733000419917087&amp;postID=4382055521450684337&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/4382055521450684337'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/4382055521450684337'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/2009/03/my-son-his-chicken-pox.html' title='My Son &amp; His Chicken Pox'/><author><name>Yanie's Ka-blags!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11501502004310550922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SU-VzSOLKfI/AAAAAAAAAAM/CJLGeE1rmx0/S220/girlumbrellabanner.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7713733000419917087.post-2777101796271159499</id><published>2009-03-17T16:16:00.003+04:00</published><updated>2009-11-05T17:46:02.730+04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='In ENGLISH Shiznits'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Arenophile'/><title type='text'>Melancholic Life of an Arenophile</title><content type='html'>Sands of time in a life untamed&lt;br /&gt;At a whirlwind place you came&lt;br /&gt;I have the world in my hand&lt;br /&gt;I was so taut but you made me bend&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My eyes got blistered with so much dust&lt;br /&gt;I got swayed it’s not just lust&lt;br /&gt;The lies just got so believable&lt;br /&gt;Seems forever was so reachable&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While dust covered my sanity&lt;br /&gt;The affection swelled intensely&lt;br /&gt;Can’t help it, just can’t purge it&lt;br /&gt;Even the vastness of Sahara can’t contain it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’ve let you unearth my whole being&lt;br /&gt;I shared with you my deepest dreams&lt;br /&gt;I treasured moments while I let time stand still&lt;br /&gt;You said the oasis is just so near&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But you went out, you said goodnight&lt;br /&gt;I spent shivering alone in the cold, oh so cold night&lt;br /&gt;Your breathe, your whispers, your touch &amp;amp; your grin&lt;br /&gt;Blown by Anemoi with his gusts of wind&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You said good night my love…&lt;br /&gt;Time to go, I reckon you mumbled&lt;br /&gt;But why did you leave me while I was asleep?&lt;br /&gt;My heart filled with sand, do I just have to keep?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7713733000419917087-2777101796271159499?l=wattuduyanie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/feeds/2777101796271159499/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7713733000419917087&amp;postID=2777101796271159499&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/2777101796271159499'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/2777101796271159499'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/2009/03/melancholic-life-of-arenophile.html' title='Melancholic Life of an Arenophile'/><author><name>Yanie's Ka-blags!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11501502004310550922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SU-VzSOLKfI/AAAAAAAAAAM/CJLGeE1rmx0/S220/girlumbrellabanner.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7713733000419917087.post-1255827631894656602</id><published>2009-03-16T08:49:00.001+04:00</published><updated>2009-06-11T10:56:09.482+04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Koleksiyon ng Buhangin'/><title type='text'>Kung Lalake Lang Ako - 2nd Edition</title><content type='html'>I received a lot of comments when I uploaded my poem "Kung Lalake Lang Ako" at filipinowriter.com.  I  felt like a kitten released into the wild.  I was expecting to be devoured, but yeah, I did anticipate that...  For all its worth, I wanted to know how I can be strong and how I can fill my bucket...  And so, from their comments and suggestions, here's what I came up with as the 2nd edition of the previous poem I shared to everyone.  Hope you like it...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kung ako’y naging lalake&lt;br /&gt;Maabot ko kaya, ang mas matayog na pangarap?&lt;br /&gt;Tulad ng pagiging kapitan sa barkong lalayag sa dagat&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kung ako’y isang lalake&lt;br /&gt;Mas malalagpasan ko kaya ang mas maraming paghihirap?&lt;br /&gt;Tulad ng bawat problemang dadaan, sa gabi’y kailangang dilat…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kung lalake nga ako&lt;br /&gt;Sana naman ako’y gwapo&lt;br /&gt;Kahit dina nga siguro maskulado&lt;br /&gt;Basta kahit papano’y matalino&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ngunit, kung sana lalake nga ako&lt;br /&gt;Pipilitin kong makiramdam sa damdamin ng iba&lt;br /&gt;Sa mga desisyo’y di magpapadalos dalos&lt;br /&gt;Sa init ng ulo at sa kitid ng utak susubukang di papagapos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Puso ko’y di gagawing bato,&lt;br /&gt;Ako’y magmamahal ng tapat&lt;br /&gt;Sa iisang babaeng itinadhana sa buhay ko&lt;br /&gt;At kung kaya ay ibibigay ang lahat&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mahirap man, akin siyang uunawain&lt;br /&gt;Dahil siya’y ako, sa lahat ng bagay iintindihin&lt;br /&gt;Nangangakong akin siyang aarugain&lt;br /&gt;At kailanmay di bibigyan ng pasanin&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘Di ko siya sasaktan at di bibigyan ng dahilan&lt;br /&gt;Para malungkot sa mundong aming ginagalawan&lt;br /&gt;Kanyang ngiti’y magiging hangin&lt;br /&gt;Na siyang magbibigay lakas, walang sawang sisinghapin&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kung lalake lang ako…&lt;br /&gt;At kung dakilang pagibig ay nahanap na&lt;br /&gt;Di mag aaksaya ng panahon, pagmamahal niya’y kakamtin&lt;br /&gt;At kung nararapat, pati buhay ko sa kanya ihahain&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ngunit sa paraan ng Diyos, ako’y kailangang maghintay&lt;br /&gt;Ng isang kapitan na sa dagat maglalakbay&lt;br /&gt;Upang ako’y mahanap, arugain at mahalin&lt;br /&gt;Sa aking ngiti’y pagod at pighati niya’y papawiin&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sa aking paraan, ako’y magiging matapang&lt;br /&gt;Nang sa aming pagsasama, ako’y kanyang makakatuwang&lt;br /&gt;Pagmamahal niya’y diko susukatin&lt;br /&gt;At buhay ko, sa kanya’y handa ring ihain&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7713733000419917087-1255827631894656602?l=wattuduyanie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/feeds/1255827631894656602/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7713733000419917087&amp;postID=1255827631894656602&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/1255827631894656602'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/1255827631894656602'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/2009/03/kung-lalake-lang-ako-2nd-edition.html' title='Kung Lalake Lang Ako - 2nd Edition'/><author><name>Yanie's Ka-blags!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11501502004310550922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SU-VzSOLKfI/AAAAAAAAAAM/CJLGeE1rmx0/S220/girlumbrellabanner.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7713733000419917087.post-2161634654753600662</id><published>2009-03-14T18:03:00.001+04:00</published><updated>2009-06-11T10:56:29.289+04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ka-blog-gastugan'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Koleksiyon ng Buhangin'/><title type='text'>Kung lalake lang ako...</title><content type='html'>Kung ako’y naging lalake&lt;br /&gt;Maabot ko kaya, ang mas maraming pangarap?&lt;br /&gt;Kung ako’y isang lalake&lt;br /&gt;Mas malalagpasan ko kaya ang mga paghihirap?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kung lalake nga ako&lt;br /&gt;Sana naman ako’y gwapo&lt;br /&gt;Mas marami kaya akong kaibigan?&lt;br /&gt;Mas marami kayang babae akong malilinlang?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ngunit, kung sana lalake nga ako&lt;br /&gt;Ako’y magmamahal ng tapat&lt;br /&gt;Ng isang babaeng igagalang ko&lt;br /&gt;At kung kaya, ibibigay ang lahat&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Akin siyang uunawain&lt;br /&gt;Sa lahat ng bagay iintindihin&lt;br /&gt;Akin siyang aarugain&lt;br /&gt;At kailanmay di bibigyan ng pasanin&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Diko siya sasaktan&lt;br /&gt;Diko siya paluluhain&lt;br /&gt;Kanyang ngiti’y magiging hangin&lt;br /&gt;Para sa kanya, buhay ko’y ihahain&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ngunit ako lama’y isang bakla,&lt;br /&gt;Nagkukubli sa katawang dati ng linikha&lt;br /&gt;Walang karapatang magmakaawa&lt;br /&gt;Na ako ri’y mahalin na parang isang Eba&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7713733000419917087-2161634654753600662?l=wattuduyanie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/feeds/2161634654753600662/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7713733000419917087&amp;postID=2161634654753600662&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/2161634654753600662'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/2161634654753600662'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/2009/03/kung-lalake-lang-ako.html' title='Kung lalake lang ako...'/><author><name>Yanie's Ka-blags!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11501502004310550922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SU-VzSOLKfI/AAAAAAAAAAM/CJLGeE1rmx0/S220/girlumbrellabanner.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7713733000419917087.post-6636819499097104057</id><published>2009-03-13T14:33:00.001+04:00</published><updated>2009-06-11T10:56:45.325+04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Koleksiyon ng Buhangin'/><title type='text'>20 years na lang ako sa mundo</title><content type='html'>Nasabi ko minsan sa isang kaibigan&lt;br /&gt;Ako'y mabubuhay lamang hanggang taong apatnapung siyam&lt;br /&gt;Ako ngayo'y 29, may 20 years pako&lt;br /&gt;Ano ngayon ang gagawin ko?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nasabi ko rin sa parehong kaibigan&lt;br /&gt;Sa totoo lang diko alam&lt;br /&gt;Ano na nga bang narating ko?&lt;br /&gt;Ano pa nga ba ang gusto ko?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gusto kong tumakbo na parang Olympic runner&lt;br /&gt;Perong walang pagtutunggali&lt;br /&gt;Gusto ko lang danasing mapagod at humingal&lt;br /&gt;Na parang wala nang babalikan&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gusto kong maging scuba diver&lt;br /&gt;Pero dapat ako muna’y maging swimmer&lt;br /&gt;Lalangoy muna sa gitna ng karagatan&lt;br /&gt;Saka sisisid hanggang sa kawalan&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gusto kong maging mountain climber&lt;br /&gt;Parang napanood ko sa pelikulang Cliff Hanger?&lt;br /&gt;Aakyat na parang aabutin ang kalawakan&lt;br /&gt;Para lang suminghap ng hangin,&lt;br /&gt;Na sa ibaba’y pilit kinakalimutan&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Subalit sabi ng aking kaibigan&lt;br /&gt;Na pinipilit talaga akong pakinggan&lt;br /&gt;Pare, maging writer ka na lang&lt;br /&gt;Mas tipid, at ligtas&lt;br /&gt;Duo’y panaginip maabot at pangarap makakamtan&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7713733000419917087-6636819499097104057?l=wattuduyanie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/feeds/6636819499097104057/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7713733000419917087&amp;postID=6636819499097104057&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/6636819499097104057'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/6636819499097104057'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/2009/03/20-years-na-lang-ako-sa-mundo.html' title='20 years na lang ako sa mundo'/><author><name>Yanie's Ka-blags!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11501502004310550922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SU-VzSOLKfI/AAAAAAAAAAM/CJLGeE1rmx0/S220/girlumbrellabanner.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7713733000419917087.post-1005934774446737889</id><published>2009-03-11T17:55:00.002+04:00</published><updated>2009-11-05T17:40:38.699+04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='In ENGLISH Shiznits'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Arenophile'/><title type='text'>Who's Lonely... who's not?</title><content type='html'>So you know what it feels like to be lonely,&lt;br /&gt;Everything nice suddenly turns ugly&lt;br /&gt;All happiness flushes, smiles crashes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They say loneliness kills,&lt;br /&gt;Oohh, death is dreaded&lt;br /&gt;What meaning can it spill?&lt;br /&gt;If lament makes one numb&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tired, restless, clueless&lt;br /&gt;Resting is nowhere to be found&lt;br /&gt;Black little things creep out&lt;br /&gt;From below a lonely heart’s eye&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everything I say, all hallow&lt;br /&gt;If I die tonight would you follow?&lt;br /&gt;If I disappear, would you fret?&lt;br /&gt;If I get broken would you be there to mend?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7713733000419917087-1005934774446737889?l=wattuduyanie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/feeds/1005934774446737889/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7713733000419917087&amp;postID=1005934774446737889&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/1005934774446737889'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7713733000419917087/posts/default/1005934774446737889'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wattuduyanie.blogspot.com/2009/03/writers-block.html' title='Who&apos;s Lonely... who&apos;s not?'/><author><name>Yanie's Ka-blags!!!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11501502004310550922</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xBuuv9ErqaU/SU-VzSOLKfI/AAAAAAAAAAM/CJLGeE1rmx0/S220/girlumbrellabanner.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7713733000419917087.post-3972915218387180754</id><published>2009-03-01T17:13:00.005+04:00</published><updated>2009-10-01T08:57:45.771+04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sh**s I Made for Songs I Like'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='maikling kwento'/><title type='text'>Iris</title><content type='html'>Sabi nila, ipinaglihi daw ako ng nanay ko sa casette player. "Kaya naman pala." Yun ang lagi kong nasasambit sa tuwing ako'y nagsusuklay. Iyon yung mga panahong ang usong mga gamit sa pakikinig ng music ay ang mga de bateryang radio, na parang lunch box ang hitsura, kahoy ang likod at may isa o dalawang pihitan para sa volume at para sa station tuning. Kung medyo mas high tech ang radio mo nuon, may antenna yun. Kung medyo mayaman ka nung panahong ito, meyron ka nung mala kabinet na karaoke. May mga koleksioyn ka ng mga tapes at siyempre para ipakita ang hilig sa music, di dapat mawala ang microphone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nuong mga panahong ang trabaho ni mama ay isang tagabantay ng mga importanteng bagay sa isang kompanyang maraming bodega, nakapundar siya ng isang maliit na casette player na kasukat lamang ng libro ni harry potter ngayon. portable ika nga nila pero powerful. un yata ang unang "appliance" na naipundar ni mama mula ng magkatrabaho siya. Tumanda ako kasama ng casette player na ito. Natatandaan ko rin na panay hiram ang mga casette tapes kong pinapatugtog. Hiram sa mga pinsan, sa mga kaibigan at sa mga kapitbahay. Hiram na ang ibig sabihin, dina isosoli pa. Kaya naman nagkaron ako ng maraming koleksiyon ng mga cartridges. May mga panahong ayaw na nilang magpahiram kasi nakahalata na sila, kaya ang ginawa ko, dahil mas mayaman naman sila sa akin at mas high tech ang mga players nila, nag re record na lang ako, at yun ang kwento ng pagkahilig ko sa music.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Di naman maganda ang boses ko, kaya nga kahit sa banyo di ako kumakanta. Wala naman sa lahi namin ang magaling kumanta, ngunit nabanggit na sa akin minsan ng lolo ko na tumutugtog siya dati ng violin, gitara, harmonica at accordion. Tanda ko pa nga nung bata pa ako, linalaro ko lang ang accordion at harmonica ni papang. Na parang wala lang, parang laruan lang. Palagay ko, nung naglipat kami ng bahay, from the barrio to a more urbanized town eh di na nakasama tong mga to. Nung tinanong ko si mama kung nasan na ang mga yun, sabi niya isinanla daw ni mamang, ng lola ko, sa bayan, para may pambili daw siya ng Gin niya, ung naiinom, ung nakakalasing. Ayun at dina natubos pa. Sa aking pagtanto, siguro kako, may innate passion ako for music, passion for emotion, passion for art na namana ko siguro sa mga ninuno ko... na di lang nadevelop dahil sa paghihirap ng aming buhay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isang gabi habang nagbabantay ako kay Mamang sa hospital dahil naatake siya ng highblood, pagkatapos maglasing, nakapag kwentuhan kami nung nurse na in charge sa ICU. Paralyzed ang mamang ko nuong naatake siya at 2nd year high school ako non. sabi ng nurse, kilala daw niya dati ang angkan namin. Dati raw kaming mayaman. Marami raw kaming ari arian na di nasusukat ng regular na mamamayan sa barriong pinanggalingan namin. May mga tractor daw kami nun, napakalawak na lupaing sinasaka, mga sasakyan, mga bahay, patubigan at marami pa. In short, mala hacienda daw ang lupain namin at popular daw ang angkan namin dahil sa karangyaan. Sabi pa nga niya, kung nga daw sineryoso ng aking papang ang pagpo politiko eh malamang pamilya na rin kami ng mga mayor at gobernador ngayon. Nagtataka daw ang nurse kung anong nangyari sa amin. Dahil nga kasabay ng pagkakakila niya sa pamilya namin ay ang pagkakasaksi din niya ng pagbagsak namin. Di rin naman daw niya maipaliwag, baka daw sakaling alam ko. Pero sabi din niya na malamang nga raw diko rin alam dahil di pa ako tao nuon. At mga teenagers pa ang mga magulang ko't mga kapatid niya. Kung bakit niya kami kilala ay ang sumunod niyang mga kwento. Crush na crush daw niya ang isa sa mga tito ko. Kapatid ni mama. tanong nga siya ng tanong kung pupunta siya sa hospital.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sino po sa kanila", tanong ko. Sabi niya ung bunso.&lt;br /&gt;"Ah, nasa Saudi po siya ngayon, diko po alam kung kelan siya uuwi. Tatlo na rin po ang anak niya at magpi pitong taon na po siya dun". Marami pa kaming napagkwentuhan ng nurse, at marami akong na realize nung time na yun. Pagkatapos ng kwentuhan, wala akong tinanong kay mama. Gustong gusto kong magtanong pero di ako ganun, di ako kumportableng magtanong sa kanya ng mga maemosyong bagay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isa na nga siguro ang mga accordion, violin at harmonica sa mga antique properties ng mga mamang at papang ko. Ito kasi ung madali lang bitbitin nung lumipat kami sa siyudad. Ah! naabutan ko pa nga yung phonograph namin. May mga kolekisyon pa ang uncle ko nuon ng mga plaka nina Elvis Presley, Beatles, Bing Crosby, Cindy Lauper, basta madami, nung mga bata kami linalaro na nga lang namin to dahil di na nagana ung phono... Lalo pa't nalipat kami sa isang maliit at masikip na barangay na mas sosyal naman kung tignan kesa sa isang squatter's area sa manila. Mga konkreto naman ang mga bahay, pataasan nga lang dahil masikip, pagandahan din ng kulay, walang pakialam kung isang araw eh bigla na lang palayasin dahil wala naman kaming titulo ng lupang pinanghahawakan. Dito ako lumaki. Dito ako nagkamulat. Dito sa bahay, sa dulo ng Street number 12, na may tindahan sa kanto. Pagkagaling ko sa eskwela lagi akong dadaan ng pop cola at kornik o kundi kaya peewee kina auntie siony at pagkatapos eh didiretso ako sa bubungan ng bahay namin para ngatngatin ang chichiria ko. Duon magmumuni muni ako kasama ng aking gitara at ng casette player na nakasabit sa bintana ng kwarto ko. Palaisipan pa rin sa akin kung paano ako nagkaron ng gitara, siguro isa rin un sa mga hiniram kong diko na isinoli. pero namulat na rin ako kasama ang gitara, ng casette player, ng mga kornik at ng paglalakad ng labinlimang minuto mula highway hanggang sa aming bahay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isang araw, sa gitna ng High School week namin, ito ung okasyon sa eskwela na gustong gusto ng lahat ng high schoolers. Ung may coronation, JS Prom, may mga love booths at sports week... 3rd year high school nako nun and for the first time, may isang banda na nag perform sa school. First time kong mapanood ang band na yun. Kahit naman nakahiligan ko ang music at paggi-gitara, dahil sa simpleng teenager lang ako, di rin naman ako pala labas para mag hang out, at di rin naman ako pala barkada. Diko akalain na mababago ang buhay ko ng mga sandaling iyon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sa gitna ng siksikan at tulakan sa gymnasium na parang si sharon cuneta ang dumalaw sa amin, at dahil maliit lang naman akong tao, madali kong naisingit ang sarili ko sa unahan to get a clearer view of the band. But not to mention ang mga mura ng mga taong natatapakan ko ang paa... And there and then, I was mesmerized sa performance ng band. The next thing I knew, I was already hanging out with some friends to regularly attend their gig, hindi pa gig ang tawag dun nuon. Diko na matandaan kung ano. Di pa rin naman ako ganun ka outgoing, at dahil sa impluwensiya na rin ng mga classmates, every Thursday, sumasama ako para panoorin ang bandang ito. After a few months, I realized na di lang ako nai inlove sa music nila, nai inlove na rin ako sa singer. I was third year high school nuon at madami din naman akong crush, but I knew this was something different. Napansin ng bestfriend ko ito, si Rod, ang nagtyaga sa akin bilang isang invisible na kaibigan. Para sakin bestfren ko siya, pero diko alam kung ganun din ang turing niya sakin. At lagi na nga akong tinutukso. Bakit daw ako madaming pimples, bakit daw ako laging tulala... Sobrang crush na crush ko nuon ang singer, gustong gusto kong magpapansin sa kanya pero wala akong guts. Everytime na magkakasalubong kami, lagi akong iiwas ng daan. May ginawa pa nga akong anonymous letter para sa kanya. Gumupit ako ng mga letra sa magazine, parang kidnapper na magpapadala ng ransom note… Ang nakalagay “I love your music, from your number 1 fan…” pero hanggang dun lang, diko naman binigay…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until gagraduate ako ng high school, I regularly attended their gig. May mga naging kaibigan din akong kapareho kong regular attendees, at nang umpisa na ng summer vacation, naging kaibigan ko na rin si Kate, ung singer ng band. Pagkatapos ng mangilang ngilang tunguhan at maiikling kamustahan sa loob ng isang taon, bigla yatang natigil ang mundo at bigla yatang nahipan ng hangin ang utak ni Kate, kita ko siyang papalapit sakin... Oo, di ako nagkamali... sa akin nga...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Josef, kamusta na? congrats nga pala grumaduate ka na, o anong plano? balita ko mag aaral ka sa Manila ah" andami niyang tanong, diko namamalayang nakatunganga lang ako sa kanya. Salamat na lang at may nagdaang langaw, nakabalik ako sa aking malay...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ahhh, ehhh, oo. Ehhh... Medyo nakapasa naman ako dun sa entrance exam kaya sabi ni mama, pursige na lang daw namin na dun ako mag aral" Yun sa palagay ko ang nasabi ko pero ang totoo dahil sa sobrang kaba ko, mali mali ata ang mga nasabi ko. Kaya naman napansin kong medyo natawa siya.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"San ka ba nakapasa?" Tuloy ang pagtatanong niya. Naku Diyos ko, masasagot ko pa kaya ang mga susunod niyang tanong???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ahhh. ehhh.. sa UP" maikling sagot ko.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Wow, galing... sabi ko na nga ba, matalino ka eh. Saang UP?" tuloy pa rin ang interrogation niya na parang feeling ko intersadong intersado na siya sa akin at parang feeling ko gustong gusto niya talaga akong makausap at parang feeling ko in love na rin siya sa akin... haaay... O parang feeling ko nga lang talaga yun???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ahhh... ehhh..." sa gitna ng mga ah, eh, ih, oh, uh, sa wakas nabanggit ko pa rin ang "Diliman"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Alam mo ba na nakapasa din ako dun? dun nga sana ako mag aaral ng college eh, architecture... kaso sabi nina mama, dito na lang daw ako sa probinsiya kasi sigurado naman daw na baka isang semester lang ako dun, magpupumilit na akong mag pa transfer dito dahil diko makakayanang mamuhay mag isa. Ako lang kasi ang babae sa magkakapatid, tignan mo nga pati sa banda kasama ko ang mga ungas." Nagpatuloy ako sa pag fi-feeling habang kinukwento niya ang buong buhay niya sa akin. Parang feeling ko siya na ang soulmate ko... at kilalang kilala ko na siya. Habang nakikinig ako at sumasagot pa rin sa kanya ng mga alpabetong pilipino... narealize ko kung gaano pa karami ang diko alam tungkol sa kanya... Sa kabila ng puspusan kong pag re research. Nalaman kong pareho pala kaming panganay at parehong maraming responsibilidad sa buhay. Pareho kaming obviously mahilig sa music, at moody sa mga hilig. Pareho kaming wala talagang paboritong kanta, kung anong uso yun ang gusto.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Uy, sabi ni Mel, marunong ka daw maggitara ah, ba't dika maki jamming sa amin?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Di naman ako kasing galing niyo, baka magkalat lang ako... Panay basic lang naman ang alam ko, ahhh, eehh"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Halika na, sige na, tamang tama wala si Lolo, ikaw muna pumalit sa kanya, laging pasaway un eh, laging late..." Pagtanto ko si lolo, ung pinakamatanda sa kanila, diko pa rin alam mga pangalan nila, lalong diko matandaan kahit nang ipakilala niya sa akin ang mga band mates niya. matapos ba naman niya akong i-holding hands at feeling ko pa nga pinisil niya ng mabuti ang mga kamay ko, na parang nagpapahiwatig na mahal niya rin ako, na matagal na nga niya akong mahal, at di lang niya masabi sabi sa akin. Reality check: hinila lang talaga niya ako sa stage para piliting tumugtog, dahil sa nahihiya ako, nagpa-hila talaga ako kaya napahigpit ang hawak niya sa akin, hehehe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Iyon ang pinakamasayang parte ng buhay ko, sunod sa mga pagmumuni ko kasama ng gitara ko sa aming bubungan. Mababait naman ang mga nasa banda, pati nga ang kapatid niyang si Kleng, ang Bassist sa grupo, kalog din. Feeling ko kumonek ako sa kanila at natagpuan ko ang pangalawa kong pamilya. Feeling ko magiging masaya ako dito sa pamilyang ito. Mula nuon, isinasama na nila akong tumugtog. Sumasama na rin ako sa mga gigs at jamming nila pati na kapag may mga piyesta sa mga probinsiya at naiimbitahan silang tumugtog. Buong summer vacation, mula ng isinama nila ako sa grupo, namalayan ko na lang na ang laki na ng ipinagbago ko. Dina ako naging mahiyain, bagkus nagugulat pa nga ako sa sarili ko dahil ang galing ko nang sumakay sa mga biruan, at lalo pa akong nagugulat dahil kapag ako naman ang nagbiro natatawa sila sa akin. Para sa akin achievement ko yun, lalo na kapag humagalpak ng tawa si Kate. Gustong gusto ko kapag humalakhak siya, sunod sa pagkanta niya. Para akong laging nasa langit. Diko alam may sense of humor din naman pala ako. Lalo akong natutuwa kapag panay ang bigwas, batok at palo sa akin ni Kate kapag binibiro ko siya. Punong puno na nga ako ng pasa sa katawan dahil medyo may laman ang babaeng yun, at pag bumigwas, tilamsik talaga ang payatot kong pangangatawan. Lagi akong nakakatikim ng panlalambing niyang yon kapag kumakanta siya at bigla akong magpa punch line ng mga biro kong laging patok. Sabi nila mula daw nung sumama ako sa kanila, dun lang daw nila nakita si Kate na parang bata kung tumawa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Malapit nang matapos ang buwan ng Mayo. Malapit na rin akong umalis para mag aral sa maynila. Lagi akong tinutukso na di na daw sila magtataka kung mapapanood na lang nila akong tumutugtog kasama ng rivermaya o nang eraserheads. Lagi nila sinasabing magaling akong tumugtog pero diko yun sineseryoso, parang ako, alam ko mapagbiro rin talaga sila.&lt;br /&gt;"Josef,kelan ang alis mo?" habang tinu tuning ko ang gitara, umupo sa tabi ko si Kate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Siyempre, kapag si Kate, dipa rin naalis ang expertise ko sa alpabetong pilipino.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ehhh, ahhh..." para maiba naman. "Sa sabado pa naman. Kailangan ko kasing makarating dun ng maaga para makapag handa sa boarding house"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Alam mo, may pinsan ako sa manila, nag text siya sakin kanina, sabi niya kung makakapunta daw ako dun, ililibre niya ako sa concert ng eraserheads. Ang kaso baka di ako payagan ni mama, malapit na rin kasing magpasukan eh. Pero kung pumayag si mama, sabay tayo luwas hah?" sabay tapik sa likod ko. Palibhasa, mas matanda sa akin si Kate, feeling ko ang turing niya lang sa akin ay kapatid. Ganun din kasi siya sa mga nakababatang kapatid niya, malambing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oo bah" sambit ko, at kinagabihan lumuhod na ako sa Diyos, at nagdasal na sana payagan siya ng nanay niya para makasama ko siya sa biyahe, yung kami lang dalawa, nang matagal, dahil sampung oras ang biyahe mula probinsiya hanggang Manila. Kinaumagahan nga, masaya niyang ibinalita na pumayag ang mama niyang pumunta siya sa manila. Dina ako makapag hintay ng sabado.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sabado... handa na ang mga mga bagahe namin. Nagkita na kami sa bus station. Nauna kami ni mama sa istasyon, sampung minuto lang ay dumating naman ang buong pamilya ni Kate para ihatid siya. Panay ang bilin ng mama niya sa akin. Imbes na ang mama ko ang magbilin na mag ingat ako dahil matatagalan bago ako umuwi, Mama ni Kate ang bilin ng bilin. Mag ingat daw ako lagi dahol magulo sa Maynila, ingatan ko daw at bantayan si Kate habang nandun siya. Matulog daw muna ako sa bahay ng mga pinsan niya para bantayan siya dahil wala daw silang tiwala sa mga taga siyudad na yun. Natutuwa naman sa akin ang papa niya, dahil kamo, mabait akong bata at sa sandaling panahong pagpunta punta ko sa bahay nila para sa jamming, nakagaanan na ata nila ako ng loob. Matapos ang katakot takot at walang katapusang mga bilin, umandar na ang bus at nagsimula na kaming bumiyahe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Diko ipinahalata kay kate ang kaba ko sa pagtabi sa kanya sa upuan. Sana di niya marinig ang kalabog ng puso ko. First time ito na makatabi ko siya ng malapitan, at makasama ng matagal na kaming dalawa lang.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Josef!" bigla akong nagulat sa pagtawag niya ng pangalan ko. "Excited ka bang mag aral sa manila kako...?" matagal na pala niya akong kinakausap, di nag re register ang mga sinasabi niya sa akin dahil nasa ibang kalawakan na naman ang isip ko.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hahh, ehhh, oo naman, konte... takot... pero sanay naman na akong mag isa, kaya siguro kaya ko naman to" ang sambit ko.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sana kasing tapang mo ako. Kung malakas lang ang loob ko, sana malapit na rin akong makatapos ng Architecture. Alam mo bang maayos na sana lahat ng pagaaral ko dun? Kaso ang tanga tanga ko kasi, ang duwag duwag ko. Inisip ko kasi, maiiwan ko ang banda, nakakalungkot, at mag iisa ako sa manila, wala akong kasama. Takot akong tumawid sa mga kalsada dun baka umuwi lang akong bangkay, dito na nga lang sa atin, nasasagasaan pa ako ng tricycle, dun pa kayang humaharuruot ang mga sasakyan...?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Eh, kung gusto mo pwede ka namang mag transfer eh. Andito naman ako…"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Naku wag na" sagot niya. "Tanggap ko nang hanggang dito na lang ako sa tin, dito na siguro ako tatanda at mag aasawa, magkakapamilya" ang sumunod niyang mga sinabi ay halos diko na narinig pero naulinigan ko yun bilang "kung uuwi ka pa..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Di ako umimik, pinagtanto ko kung tama ba ang narinig ko. Ni minsan hindi ko tinitigan si Kate sa mata dahil natatakot akong baka mahagilap niya sa mga iyon ang nararamdaman ko para sa kanya, baka kasi malaman niyang malaki ang pagkakagusto ko sa kanya eh, ayokong magbago ang tingin niya sa akin. Pero sa pagkakakilala ko kay Kate, pranka siya sa mga saloobin niya. Kung may muta ka, may tinga ka, may putok, sasabihin niya sa yo yun. Di siya natatakot, kahit nakakahiya, wala siyang inhibitions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Minsan, sa isang jamming sa bahay nila, linalaro namin ang kantang patok sa mga taga probinsiya, Zombie ng cranberries. Ang band nato ang all time favorite ni Kate... di niya ito inaamin dahil ayaw niyang makumpara ang boses niya dun sa lead singer, si DoLores. unique ang boses ni kate. Alam mong siya ang kumakanta pag narinig mo. Di niya bagay ang mga biritang kanta, pero pag kinantahan ka, para kang kinakantahan ng mga anghel sa langit. Habang, itinotodo ang chorus, “Zooombie, zooombie eh ehhh..” Bigla niyang pinatigil ang tugtog sabay kawala ng malakas na utot... Dati na palang gawain ito ng lahat sa banda, pero laking gulat at parang ako ang nahiya ng nasaksihan ko ang ginawa niya. Dahil first time ko, diko malaman kung tatawa ako o hindi, nag antay muna ako ng ilang segundo at pinakiramdaman kung anong gagawin ng iba sa banda, "That's lovingly dedicated to you, Josef”, biglang sabi neto at ang mga kamay ay nakaturo sa akin na para akong binaril. Diko na napigilan, tumawa ako ng tumawa, na parang walang itatapos ang sigla ng mundo. Palibhasa panay mga lalaki ang kapatid kaya nasanay na siyang umastang parang isa sa kanila. Pero mabait at malambing si Kate, kunwaring magagalit sa mga kapatid pero ang totoo'y naglalambing lang ito sa kanila. Nirerespeto din siya ng mga kapatid niya, yun ang nakakapagtaka sa pamilya nila, kung paanong napaka bait ng mga magulang at napakalambing ng mga anak at mahihilig silang lahat sa music. Isang perpektong samahan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sa biyaheng yun, diko napigilang umiba ng pwesto sa pagkakaupo at napatitig ako sa kanya ng matagal. tumaas ang mga kilay niya at nanlaki ang mga mata na parang nang aasar "O, bakit...??????"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Eehh, akala ko kasi, may sinabi ka... pasensiya na hah..." pumuwesto ako kagad sa dating pagkakaupo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Meron naman talaga... ang hirap kasi sayo, nagpa-patay malisya ka na naman... by now siguro alam mo nang di yan umuubra sa akin... sabihin mo na nga lang... may gusto ka ba sakin?" straight-forward na ang mga tanong niya, hindi ko makapa kung saang parte ng alpabetong pilipino ko huhugutin ang sagot sa mga tanong niya. Pwede bang multiple choice na lang or yes or no???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Napalunok ako ng malalim at sinabing... "Isang taon na akong nanliligaw sayo..." nagulat ako dahil napahagalpak siya ng tawa, gaya ng dating halakhak, walang pakialam sa mundo, walang pakialam sa driver na napatingin pa sa kinauupuan namin at lalong walang pakialam sa ibang pasaherong naguumpisa na yatang matulog para paghandaan ang mahabang biyahe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hi hi hi hi..." pagpipigil nito sa tawa niya "Sira ulo ka rin naman noh... isang taon kang nanligaw eh nung isang linggo ko lang ata nalamang marunong ka palang magsalita, he..he..he"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ehehe... eh sa talagang di lang ako pala imik.."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"alam ko... kaya nga alam kong imposible kang manligaw... ni imposible ngang may makapansing tao ka pala eh, te..he..he.."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ehhh, di naman kasi ako kagaya mo eh, yung walang - hiya" natigilan ako sa sinabi ko, "este yung hindi nahihiya" sabay bawi ko. Ang hirap sa akin, pagdating kay Kate ang hirap kong magbiro ng mga bagay na baka ikagalit niya, kaya kung di ako nun nahahampas, ibig sabihin siguro nun eh nagalit siya sa biro ko. pero panay naman ang hampas niya kaya malamang di naman siya galit. Tumawa lang ulit siya sa sinabi ko...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Alam mo, Josef, mag aaral ka sa Manila, walang mangyayari sayo kung dika magsasalita at kung panay ka hiya hiya. Matalino kang tao, pero kailangan mo lang ng confidence sa sarili mo. Pasalamat ka nga at talented ka pa, ilugar mo ang pagiging mahiyain mo. Sa lahat ng bagay, may tamang oras at lugar ang lahat. Ang pagiging mahiyain mo minsan wala sa lugar. Kahit na para sa kabutihan mo, ikinahihiya mo pang gawin. Di ka pwedeng mag isang mabuhay sa mundong ito... kami ng mga kapatid ko, naturuang maging bukas sa mga nararamdaman, mahirap yun, pero kung alam mong para sa kabutihan mo, at kung alam mong tama ang lugar mo, isantabi mo ang hiya..." Pagkatapos niyang malamang matagal ko na siyang gusto, saka pa niya ipinaramdam na parang kapatid lang talaga ang turing niya sakin. Pinapangaralan ba ako neto? Ano ba talaga?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Alam mo kung anong nagustuhan ko sayo?" Ayun!! Sapul, may gusto rin siya sa akin, yahooo!!! Thank you Lord!!! Napansin pa ata niya ang pagkakangisi ko sa mga sinabi niyang yun... "Hoy wag ka ngang parang engot jan... para ka na naman authistic!" tinulak niya ang noo ko gamit ng kanyang hintuturo. "Masyado ka kasing mahiwaga. Isang taon din akong nacurious sa pagkatao mo noh, para ka kasing stalker... para kang serial killer, parang andaming pwedeng halukayin sa pagkatao mo, napakainteresante mong tao, parang, tao ka ba? bampira?, Ganun! Diko alam pero naramdaman kong gusto kitang maging kaibigan, but you seem so distant, at lalo akong nacurious... kaya ako na ang unang lumapit para magkausap tayo,. dika man lang ba nagtaka kung bakit alam kong marunong kang tumugtog? I'm sure di lahat alam yun, kaya ayun inexpose na kita"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Eh ikaw naman pala ang stalker eh, sinusundan mo siguro ako pag umuuwi ako noh...ehehe" daan na naman sa biro.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Loko mo, I have my ways noh... Lam mo Josef, mabait naman siguro akong kaibigan, di naman ako suplada, wala pa naman akong nakakaaway, pero hindi ako sanay na di pinapansin, ikaw lang ang gumagawa sa kin nun..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Paano nangyari yun, tanong ko sa sarili ko, eh, wala nga akong ibang pangarap kundi ang makausap siya, malaman lang niya pangalan ko okay na yun sakin, sobra sobra na ngang bonus ng Diyos ang makasama ko pa siya ng kasingtagal ng biyahe namin ngayon. "Pasensiya ka na..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Uy hindi, wag kang humingi ng pasensiya... dimo naman kasalanan yun eh"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Gusto ko ngang magpasalamat sayo, kasi kung hindi mo pa ako naunang pinansin, hindi pa ako magbabago ng ganito. Natuto ako sa pamilya mo lalong lalo na sayo na magopen up ng feelings, na kung may gusto dapat determinado, natuto ako sa kasabihan mong, kung gusto, maraming paraan, kung ayaw, maraming dahilan... salamat Kate hah... "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Salamat ka jan... basta wag mokong kakalimutan pag nasa Maynila ka na,. Baka masobrahan mo naman ang pagka walanghiya mo, magaya ka naman sa mga pinsang kong panay basag ulo..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pinilit kong ibalik sa dati ang usapan "Eh Kate, ibig ba sabihin nun, ahh, ehh, tayo na?" Gustong gusto kong hawakan ang mga kamay niya, ang sabi nung nakapulang, maliit na Josef sa kaliwang balikat ko, "sige, hawakan mo na, diba nga, kung gusto maraming paraan, holding hands mo na, go!!!" ngunit sabi naman nung nakaputing Josef sa kanang balikat ko, "Oy, tandaan mo ang sabi niya, dapat nasa lugar at nasa tamang panahon ang mga bagay, ops, di ito ang tamang panahon, masyadong maaga para sa holding-holding hands na yan" sa di ko malamang dahilan, habang nagpapaka authistic na naman ako, biglang hinawakan ni Kate ang kamay ko.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Marami ka pang makikilalang ibang babae sa Maynila, mas magaganda, mas matatalino at mas seksi pa kesa sa akin..." sabay taas ng kilay ng dalawang beses, habang hawak hawak pa rin ang kamay ko. Yung dalawang Josef sa magkabilaang balikat ko, nagtatalo na naman. Sabi nung nakaputi, "hoooy, magpakipot ka naman, hilahin mo, bawiin mo... nakakahiya ka... walang delikadesa..." feeling ko naghi histerical na siya, habang ung isa sa kabila, sumisipol lang sa kanta ng Groovy kind of love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nauulinigan ko ang sinasabi ni Kate. Eto yata ang sabi niya... "Mag aral ka ng mabuti dun, yun ang gawin mo, wag ung girlfrend girlfrend ang iisipin, at tsaka di ako naniniwala sa long distance relationship, di un uubra sa akin, wala akong pang load para sa mga katextmate..." paliwanag ni Kate. Bahagya akong napahiya, pero natauhan na rin. Tama siya, at ito ang mga katangian ni Kate na nakakapa mangha s akin. Sobrang matured, parang alam ang lahat ng bagay tungkol sa buhay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Diko malilimutan ang biyahe naming yon ni Kate. Diko siya itinuturing na kapatid, dahil higit dun ang pagtingin ko sa kanya, pero sobra ang respeto ko sa kanya kaya ipingako ko sa sarili ko na gagawin ko ang lahat para sa huli't huli ay magiging kami, dahil sigurado ako sa sarili kong siya ang babaeng pakakasalan ko balang araw.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pagdating ng Maynila, dumiretso si Kate sa bahay ng mga pinsan niya at ako naman sa boarding house namin. Dumalo siya sa concert ng eraserheads at base sa pagkaka kwento niya, yun ang pinakamasayang nangyari sa buhay niya. Alam ko sobra ang paghanga niya sa bandang ito. Tatlong araw lang si kate sa Manila at bumalik na siya sa probinsiya, nangako ako sa kanya na lagi akong mage-email at kung may panahon, lagi kaming mag cha chat. Alam kong di rin naman niya gagawin yun pero pursigido akong ligawan pa rin siya kahit na nasa malayo ako. Nagsisi tuloy ako kung bakit ko pa itinuloy ang mag aral sa Manila. At dun nabuo ang pasya kong tapusin lang ang isang semester sa manila at magta transfer na rin ako sa probinsiya.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ngunit si Kate, sa kabutihan at sinseridad, ay puspusan ring nag text sa akin halos araw araw. Lagi siyang may mga compositions na pinapadala sa email at lagi din niya akong ine encourage na lapatan ng musika ang mga yun... Mahilig gumawa ng mga tula si Kate. Kapag inspirado siya, may kung anu ano lang siyang naisusulat sa maliit na libro niya, kaya nga siguro english ang kinuha niyang major sa college. Pero mas nagugustuhan ko ang mga tulang ginagawa niya sa tagalog. Mas tagos sa puso at mas inspirado akong gawan ng music ang mga ito.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sa tuwing uuwi ako nuon sa probinisya sinisiguro kong lagi kaming magkasama, kahit na walang pormal na sagutan ng matamis na oo ang naganap sa amin, nag sink in na lang sa ming dalawa na committed na kami sa isa't isa. Tanggap rin yun ng mga pamilya namin. Nakakatuwa ang mga samahan namin kung saan magkekwentuhan kami from one hanggang sa mapagalitan kami ng nanay niya, o ng lolo ko kapag maingay kami sa bubungan ng bahay namin. Di nawawala sa bonding namin siyempre ang magkantahan, ako ang gigitara at siya ang kakanta. Kasing ganda ni Kate ang boses niya. Mesmerized pa rin ang pakiramdam ko, kagaya pa rin nuong una ko siyang marinig na kumanta nung high school. Habang tumatagal,lumalalim ang pagtingin ko sa kanya. Ngunit paulit ulit din niya akong kinukumbinsing ipagpatuloy ang pagaaral ko sa manila. Sa bubungan ko siya unang hinalikan sa labi. At yun na ang bagong record ng pinakamasayang araw ng buhay ko…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3rd year college na ako, graduate na rin si Kate ng college. Nagplano kami na sa Maynila siya maghahanap ng trabaho para magkasama kami. Nang mga panahong yun, naging sobrang busy ako sa mga projects, thesis, researches at sa activities ng music club na sinalihan ko. Excited ako sa pagtira niya sa manila. Mas makakasama ko na siya ng matagal, makikita ko na siya araw araw, at pag sem break, pwede na kaming magkasama ng kahit na mas matagal, na di na magpapaalaman. Nakahanap siya ng trabaho bilang isang cashier sa isang pharmacy. Medyo isang oras na biyahe ang pagitan ng lugar namin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sa pagbabagong yun ng buhay niya, nagkaron kami ng adjustments, sobrang close si
