<?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-8273518</id><updated>2011-12-27T23:59:36.383+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hiding Aehartio</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Issa M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08965460158132807720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__SG1WqGVqVs/SPtV-Mdp6XI/AAAAAAAAAA4/esgPCv9KL8I/S220/bioweek.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>81</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8273518.post-7554400937892263312</id><published>2011-05-01T04:20:00.015+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-01T06:30:47.622+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Finally!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; "&gt;&lt;b&gt;THURSDAY, APRIL 28, 2011.&lt;/b&gt; Despite the total laziness flowing in my body, I rose up to my angry alarm and defied my own desire to stay asleep. It was just 4am after all and I haven’t had enough sleep since I went to bed that evening around 2 in the morning. But that day was different, need I say, special – at least for me and a hundred more others. Excited, as we all were, the need to be on time was of utmost importance. I rose up, went down, took a bath, prepared my things, and went to the salon as early as 5:30 in the morning. It was at times like those I hated being a woman. Imagine having the need to look beautiful at the crack of dawn. It was pretty absurd. Why need to go have your face and hair done when even without it you already look like you’re the one marrying Prince William? &lt;i&gt;LOL.&lt;/i&gt; After I got there, saw my other friends looking beautiful in their painted faces. I tried not to stare but ended up admiring those talented artists as they were painting each faces like a canvass, turning my plain, simple-looking friends to princesses like me. Then came my turn and I soon looked like the future queen of England. &lt;i&gt;Haha.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; "&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HtMeaq3-Vws/Tbx8mn3mjAI/AAAAAAAAAEE/OR1jXfGptxo/s400/Salon.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5601489039521123330" /&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-jaBh5TcjUNY/Tbx848y-kdI/AAAAAAAAAEM/T7ktu-bvHKg/s400/Salon_payo.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 265px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5601489354376516050" /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; "&gt;Shortly after the transformation, I left my friends, walked under the beautiful rising sun, and went to my brother’s place to change. There, I took out my dress, which, if you still haven’t seen it, looked like the curtain hanging from our living room window. Just the same, I wore it. It was my mom’s design, after all. &lt;i&gt;Haha.&lt;/i&gt; It was almost 8am when I finished preparing, hating, and complaining about my dress and shoes; I should have hired Sarah Burton. I would have looked fab. &lt;i&gt;Haha.&lt;/i&gt; &lt;i&gt;“Issa, dream on”&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;A little while later, I found myself standing inside the old library. It was, I guess if my memory serves me fine, my fourth time to enter People’s Center. Back then, I thought the place was relatively small, but last Thursday, it came to me, &lt;i&gt;“Dude, it’s such a huge place. How, in the world, will I get to walk tall in these shoes?”&lt;/i&gt;. I was getting all sorts of uneasiness, fear, and discomfort. My shoes were quite loose and I feared, with those, I might humiliate myself by tripping. Good thing I didn’t. Okay, so I stood there for almost an hour waiting for my family and classmates to finally arrive. Took some pictures, posed for some, and took some more. It was right before the event started when I realized my feet hurt. I should have sat down when I arrived. But since it was too late, I tried to bear the pain.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YJOINjXd8Y0/Tbx-Wvj5_vI/AAAAAAAAAEc/c3CRBSMR0d8/s400/230211_221558011192552_100000150642696_992007_7054106_n-10.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5601490965731344114" /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;As the program progressed, I felt more at ease. I became more hopeful that I’d survive the event with no major injuries. &lt;i&gt;Haha.&lt;/i&gt; But my ‘hopefulness’ was short-lived. I almost backed out when we were about to ramp up the stage. There was, to my dismay, my adviser handing out certificates up the stage. Man, did my insides go rumbling in an instant. I was to shake hands with the person who’s single-handedly responsible for my finally being part of that event. I felt quite reluctant. I owe that person much and it felt like I don’t deserve to be there. I wanted to run and hide but there was no way of escaping. Surprisingly, though, as my name got called, she greeted me with her encouraging smile and congratulated me. I felt great relief when she said that and the only reply I could utter was a simple &lt;i&gt;“thank you, ma’am”&lt;/i&gt;. As I went down and walked back to my seat, I felt like shouting. It was then it sank to me, &lt;b&gt;“&lt;i&gt;GRADUATE NA AK!&lt;/i&gt;”&lt;/b&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hbc0uEWfDIM/Tbx-qFCDPBI/AAAAAAAAAEk/AWsVX9h2SOI/s400/218095_221556481192705_100000150642696_991922_7793209_n-6.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 148px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5601491297912437778" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Yes, it was my graduation day. After six looong years of waiting, I was finally wearing an &lt;b&gt;ecru dress&lt;/b&gt; and a &lt;b&gt;SABLAY&lt;/b&gt;. &lt;i&gt;Haha.&lt;/i&gt; I just hope, despite the long wait, my mom is still as proud of me as if I had graduated two years ago. Naks, drama. Haha.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vIOoFmI380E/Tbx9pmBJ6wI/AAAAAAAAAEU/GbaYiWMP7w0/s400/Grad_compe.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 376px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5601490190075554562" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8273518-7554400937892263312?l=tweendlines.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/feeds/7554400937892263312/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2011/05/finally.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/7554400937892263312'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/7554400937892263312'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2011/05/finally.html' title='Finally!'/><author><name>Issa M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08965460158132807720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__SG1WqGVqVs/SPtV-Mdp6XI/AAAAAAAAAA4/esgPCv9KL8I/S220/bioweek.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HtMeaq3-Vws/Tbx8mn3mjAI/AAAAAAAAAEE/OR1jXfGptxo/s72-c/Salon.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8273518.post-7485139104879613958</id><published>2011-01-29T03:04:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-01-29T03:13:19.899+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Count the 'Pity'</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;The resemblance is there and I can see it just by looking at my own photograph. My mind is telling me that if I look a lot like &lt;i&gt;her&lt;/i&gt; then there’s this huge chance of me ending up like &lt;i&gt;her&lt;/i&gt;. And that thought made me feel disgusted. Not that I’m insulting &lt;i&gt;that&lt;/i&gt; woman, it’s just the thought of ending up miserably in life and being pitied nonstop by everybody else make my stomach churn. It’s probably seeing how &lt;i&gt;she&lt;/i&gt;’s constantly being judged and subtly persecuted by our very own relatives make me want to choke up to death and not see how’ll my own future will fail me as a result of my careless way of living. I’d tell myself repeatedly that not in any chance will I allow myself to become &lt;i&gt;that&lt;/i&gt; woman – someone who denies to herself that being pitied is painful, that every penny she gets out of pity is still acceptable, and that, in reality, she pities herself more than other people do. But regardless of how I try to reason out to myself that I’m far from being &lt;i&gt;that&lt;/i&gt; woman, the similarity of the path we tread or treaded becomes more visible. I can see now the worries my mom had when she saw what I was becoming. Surely she had that &lt;i&gt;déjà vu&lt;/i&gt; moment back then. I can’t blame her. The fact that I’m admitting to myself that I can be like &lt;i&gt;her&lt;/i&gt; is just too horrible enough. I feel so helpless being impaled by my own flaw. Having to battle myself from succumbing to my slothful self every morning makes my chance in getting a better life more skew. Gawd, I pity myself more…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;I’m not like her.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;I &lt;b&gt;can’t&lt;/b&gt; be like her. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8273518-7485139104879613958?l=tweendlines.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/feeds/7485139104879613958/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2011/01/count-pity.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/7485139104879613958'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/7485139104879613958'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2011/01/count-pity.html' title='Count the &apos;Pity&apos;'/><author><name>Issa M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08965460158132807720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__SG1WqGVqVs/SPtV-Mdp6XI/AAAAAAAAAA4/esgPCv9KL8I/S220/bioweek.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8273518.post-3645025512136556255</id><published>2010-07-14T22:55:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-07-14T22:58:12.449+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Downfall</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;If I fall, I fall&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;I think of nothing else&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;With my mind as empty as this hall&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;But with my heart almost at its full&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;I grasp helplessly down to the floor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;As I grope, yearning for your hold&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;My breath would be of no respite&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Like a downfall shattering my life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Will this be my demise?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&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/8273518-3645025512136556255?l=tweendlines.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/feeds/3645025512136556255/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2010/07/downfall.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/3645025512136556255'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/3645025512136556255'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2010/07/downfall.html' title='Downfall'/><author><name>Issa M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08965460158132807720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__SG1WqGVqVs/SPtV-Mdp6XI/AAAAAAAAAA4/esgPCv9KL8I/S220/bioweek.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8273518.post-9220835082377572891</id><published>2010-05-15T02:50:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2010-05-15T03:08:28.938+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Why I Hate Saturdays</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Well, today’s Saturday and when I wake up later, it would be even more obvious that today truly is Saturday. Most people would celebrate on this day because Saturdays to them mean being at home and having some rest. It’s like an escape from the busy, tiring working days and a breather to their tired, suffocated minds. But for me, it’s the opposite. I despise the idea of having Saturdays [and Sundays] for a break.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;While in college, I learned that during these days [Sat and Sun] that you suffer much. That in these fucking days you will find time to burden yourself with thoughts about life – your own miserable life. You get to spend a day or two on your own, pondering about anything or everything. It’s like a hard slap on the face, constantly reminding you of the reality.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;However, as of this moment, I cannot say I have the same reasons for hating the weekends with that when I was new in college. Now, it is different. Now, I am a full-time bummer who still hasn’t graduated because of a 3-unit subject; with my days spent at home doing nothing productive. I have then, unconsciously, established this lame routine of waking up late, scavenging for food, lying in front of the Tivo, and surfing the net whole day. Plus I get to sleep any time of the day I want. Guess what? I like it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;It’s on weekdays that I get to wake up in the morning with no one else at home, with no one to tell me what to do. It’s these days that I am free to do anything – max out the volume of my speakers, dance like a rock star, and even act out anything/anyone just to entertain myself. Most of which, I can’t do when my mom is around. Not that she won’t allow it, it’s just that I’m not comfortable doing it when she’s there. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;So basically, Saturdays would mean no work for my mom and a torture for me. It’s not that I don’t want to be with my mom, I just don’t feel comfortable being with her. There are too many restrictions, barriers, or whatever it is that stops me from being myself around her. Please, don’t get me wrong, I love my mom [very much]. Maybe it’s just a result of how we were raised – of how we were brought up like each one of us has our own little worlds and is to remain confined in it. Locked up.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;…and today is Saturday.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8273518-9220835082377572891?l=tweendlines.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/feeds/9220835082377572891/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2010/05/well-todays-saturday-and-when-i-wake-up.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/9220835082377572891'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/9220835082377572891'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2010/05/well-todays-saturday-and-when-i-wake-up.html' title='Why I Hate Saturdays'/><author><name>Issa M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08965460158132807720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__SG1WqGVqVs/SPtV-Mdp6XI/AAAAAAAAAA4/esgPCv9KL8I/S220/bioweek.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8273518.post-2879325300375931089</id><published>2010-03-07T21:02:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2010-05-09T13:48:05.230+08:00</updated><title type='text'>To My Insensitive Crowd</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;By the way their eyes bore through my very soul this afternoon after seeing me with Ms. Mendoza, I cannot continue on showing myself to that bunch of kids I got really fond of being with. No matter how I love hanging out with them, it is with much greater ease for me to step away from the picture and distance myself. I have long suffered the cruelty of such world I was born into where in each move I make, I am painfully and unfairly judged. This I am openly aware of: people by their true nature are judgmental. As I watched them glare at me, insulting me from deep within, I cannot help myself but to condemn them with their inhumane judgment. I must say that in no point in time did I ever think of crossing the line – of ever breaking the bond of friendship I have with those kids. Never. I am fairly aware of my own short-comings, my own personal issues, and never will I fill myself up indecently by abusing their kindness. I respect each and every one of them, for God’s sake! And for that same reason, I ask to be respected in return, not just by my friends, but by those around us, eyeing my every move. But just like I’ve said earlier, it can’t be helped – to judge me, I mean. So, from what I have learned in the past, all I can do is dock and clear myself from everyone’s view. The lesser time I spend with those kids, the smaller the chance of me being fried in the furious eyes of an insensitive crowd. I’ll just have to bid my friends, Goodbye.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;_____________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;04:24;03.07.10&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8273518-2879325300375931089?l=tweendlines.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/feeds/2879325300375931089/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2010/03/to-my-insensitive-crowd.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/2879325300375931089'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/2879325300375931089'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2010/03/to-my-insensitive-crowd.html' title='To My Insensitive Crowd'/><author><name>Issa M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08965460158132807720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__SG1WqGVqVs/SPtV-Mdp6XI/AAAAAAAAAA4/esgPCv9KL8I/S220/bioweek.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8273518.post-8521644282280671417</id><published>2009-09-21T20:52:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-05-09T13:50:53.845+08:00</updated><title type='text'>If Memory Serves Me Fine</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I’m mindlessly opening something up this early in the morning. Please do forgive me for this weird thought…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;In the years we lived, pieces of what we had gone through simply pile up in our heads, creating what we commonly call, “memories”. They say these memories we have justifies who we were in the past and who we became. Some will fade through time yet some will continue to stand out despite the odd reality that they’ve already been a memory for quite some time now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Searching through past encounters with black and white images flashing in your head often times bring out a smile in your face. And while in your nostalgic state, remembering what happened at a particular time and date, you tell yourself how stupid you were or how great that scene was or maybe how much fun you had back then. However, not all memories we have were colorfully painted. Some stick in our minds because of the pain we suffered at that time. We simply can’t forget the time we got rejected or ignored while waiting outside someone else’s house or maybe the time we became officially not a part of the graduating students list. Little did we know those events somehow became unbearably stuck in our heads.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I may sound bitter but I am not. Having too much to worry about at the moment brought me to a simple yet truthful conclusion. No matter how colorful or how dull you painted your past, it would never change the fact that it is now just a tedious collection of memories. Memories, as I’ve mentioned earlier, will gradually fade. And though some would stick a little while longer, you’d simply find yourself less and less interested or affected because in every new memory you create, you grow. The things that mattered to you before may not matter to you now and so the feeling would never be the same. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Dwelling with the past may bring us clarity to some of our questions but focusing on what’s in front of us at the moment is much more worthy of our time and attention.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;_____________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;02:36;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;09.21.09&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8273518-8521644282280671417?l=tweendlines.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/feeds/8521644282280671417/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2009/09/if-memory-serves-me-fine.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/8521644282280671417'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/8521644282280671417'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2009/09/if-memory-serves-me-fine.html' title='If Memory Serves Me Fine'/><author><name>Issa M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08965460158132807720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__SG1WqGVqVs/SPtV-Mdp6XI/AAAAAAAAAA4/esgPCv9KL8I/S220/bioweek.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8273518.post-6636549095563759865</id><published>2009-08-31T15:45:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-01T19:59:27.853+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sweet Escape</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I don’t know how I’d write this stuff in my head without sounding creepy or anything less respectful as a person. Although, I really fear someone might punch me in the head after reading this, I’ll just have to try my best to say things right. Well, I have no intentions of making this post that long. This is just with regards to my very last post here: SECOND YEARS. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Oh, dear, here I start:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;For the past month I have been with the second years and for some reason I’d like to maintain that bond I have with them. I am thankful enough that they took me in even for just a short while. I may be an insolent brat who just walked up to them, said “hi”, and finally pushed myself to the group, they still welcomed me &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;[Haha. At least that’s how I felt...lol]&lt;/span&gt;. In those brief moments I was with them I forgot my problems so I felt lighter. Maybe that’s what I really needed at that moment, a rest from my tiresome college life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Well, to be honest, I may have befriended some of them for the reason that I had no one to be with in school. The fourth years were just too busy with loads of work to do and my comrades weren’t anywhere near to accompany me. That time I was drowning in my sick, sluggish life and they were there, busy as the others but more open for a distraction like me. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Frankly, I now know the reason why for the past years it has always been the second years. Second years are still kids, I know. And because of that I want to be with them. They already had experienced college for a year and yet they still have traces of high school in them. They’re more optimistic than the others &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;[which, right now, I certainly lack]&lt;/span&gt; and they still have a bountiful source of energy like those of the children. Amazingly, that positive outlook in life seems to be contagious and so being with them feels like I’m younger, ready to dream and make some effort to reach those dreams. Weren’t for the second years right now, I wouldn’t have realized something important that I should have long known of. For that, I thank them with all my heart &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;[madrama]&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;By the way, staying with them wasn’t that easy at all. I made all sorts of effort just to blend in. It was like a challenge that was so hard to get over with. Well, some of them weren’t that friendly at all but I guess all of my efforts were worth it. I can still remember the first time Melody truly smiled at me &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;[I think..haha]&lt;/span&gt;. It was just last Monday, August 24. Whew. Unlike Joy, Venus, and Shae, Melody seemed to avoid me. Anyway, Joy stayed sweet at all times while Venus and Shae were simply nice to me, though Shae and I were somewhat friends already before I got close with the second years. I met Rosette last year during the Project Presentation prep along with April Rose and Richelyn &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;[her, I honestly forgot and just recently got reminded of]&lt;/span&gt; so it was easier to iron things out with them. Although, there’s this two, Kerlyn and Kim, they’re just too hard to read. If there was anything that would make me feel like I’m no welcome that would be them. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;[Haha. Peace!] &lt;/span&gt;Actually, they’re not that bad. Kerlyn always invites me most of the time to join them and Kim…well, Kim probably doesn’t care what I do but somehow her personality isn’t that “welcoming”. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;[Hehehe]&lt;/span&gt; I’m not saying that I hate them. I actually like them. They always remind me that I’m no longer a second year and that I have other responsibilities to take care of. They keep me close to my path; made me realize that second years are just my “SWEET ESCAPE”.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the record, I AM TRULY GRATEFUL to them all.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THANK YOU SO MUCH!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;____________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;02:03;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;08.31.09&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8273518-6636549095563759865?l=tweendlines.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/feeds/6636549095563759865/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2009/08/sweet-escape.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/6636549095563759865'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/6636549095563759865'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2009/08/sweet-escape.html' title='Sweet Escape'/><author><name>Issa M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08965460158132807720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__SG1WqGVqVs/SPtV-Mdp6XI/AAAAAAAAAA4/esgPCv9KL8I/S220/bioweek.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8273518.post-630119344689108952</id><published>2009-08-11T13:07:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-20T20:01:13.997+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Unwanted Outburst</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;“&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;" &gt;Haruki nala ito para tanggal dayun an stress!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;” by K.K.A.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Yawa la talaga. Makaaringgit nga yawa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Puta!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;…sana gad dire ak guin-jujudge diretso. Di ga dama ak hit suga na tawo. Sana la dire tanan na ak guinhihimo tatagan diretso hin malisya. Yawa. Dire ba ak pwede naman la makipagsangkay? Napabadtrip la talaga. Marabot-rabot na talaga kanina. Kun pwede la talaga magwala. Hagi, hagi. Napasakit la ini. Yawa la talaga. Gusto ko magwala…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;____________&lt;br /&gt;01:48;08.11.09&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8273518-630119344689108952?l=tweendlines.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/feeds/630119344689108952/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2009/08/unwanted-outburst.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/630119344689108952'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/630119344689108952'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2009/08/unwanted-outburst.html' title='Unwanted Outburst'/><author><name>Issa M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08965460158132807720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__SG1WqGVqVs/SPtV-Mdp6XI/AAAAAAAAAA4/esgPCv9KL8I/S220/bioweek.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8273518.post-8658973279689895724</id><published>2009-08-06T19:41:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-06T19:43:54.667+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sick Routine</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Damn, I’m screwed. I just finished watching Grey’s Anatomy Season 5 at 2:55 in the morning. Gawd, this is crazy. Why the hell would I watch that whole fucking series in one freakin day? That’s just nuts…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s no more than a year now since I stopped working on my thesis, moreover, it’s been less than half a decade have I started living away from home. In those freakin years I have learned nothing other than completely ignoring and consciously wasting my fucking damn life. For years, I have done nothing but sit still and watch everything pass me by. All I did was just let things go as they are no matter how awful they may be. I’m just stuck up like shit waiting for someone to step on me and that’s just sick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, I wasted a pretty damn day watching a TV series that had only got me frustrated about myself. The night before, I started playing the DVD and I stopped at 4:00 in the morning. I woke up past 10:00 and I continued watching it. Now, I’m done. I’m done doing this crazy stuff. I’m done sleeping my life away. I’m done acting like a child and start being mature. I’m done playing games. Lastly, I’m done quitting the things that matter to me the most. I’ll have to trust myself and stop doubting my abilities. I’m sick of living the same day after another. It’s just tiresome doing nothing. Better yet start anew.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;____________&lt;br /&gt;03:32;08.06.09&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8273518-8658973279689895724?l=tweendlines.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/feeds/8658973279689895724/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2009/08/sick-routine.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/8658973279689895724'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/8658973279689895724'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2009/08/sick-routine.html' title='Sick Routine'/><author><name>Issa M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08965460158132807720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__SG1WqGVqVs/SPtV-Mdp6XI/AAAAAAAAAA4/esgPCv9KL8I/S220/bioweek.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8273518.post-7264713816298095985</id><published>2009-07-14T10:46:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-07-14T10:49:13.096+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Over and After</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I can’t make more thoughts of you out of my poor, impaired judgment. Over the past week, I have considered myself to be even more lost in this tangled situation. I’m struggling even greater than before. After that night, I kept on asking myself if everything I said was true; that none of those were merely playfully created by me. I believe that if those were said truly, then I would have felt more at ease with myself. Thus, what I feel right now just proves that I am still having doubts about the matter. Is it even possible to doubt what you have doubted for so long? Hmpf.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;____________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;02:43;07.12.09&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8273518-7264713816298095985?l=tweendlines.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/feeds/7264713816298095985/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2009/07/over-and-after.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/7264713816298095985'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/7264713816298095985'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2009/07/over-and-after.html' title='Over and After'/><author><name>Issa M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08965460158132807720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__SG1WqGVqVs/SPtV-Mdp6XI/AAAAAAAAAA4/esgPCv9KL8I/S220/bioweek.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8273518.post-2465823706008489707</id><published>2009-06-21T23:33:00.008+08:00</published><updated>2009-07-14T10:51:27.924+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Details In the Fabric</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I've found myself something I wasn't looking for: another freakin' distraction. This matter, though completely complicated, excites me each morning I wake up and occupies my mind the whole fuckin' day until I sleep. Not for so long ago I had felt the same way and I still remember the time I told myself to stop acting so foolishly and to never feel the same way again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;But how am I end this stuff? I mean, it's the reason why each morning I look forward to start my day and why I keep a bright face despite all of the problems I have yet to solve. Well, the only problem here is that I tend to focus less on my thesis because I have this person that constantly occupies my mind. Yes, it's true. It's a distraction. But how am I to forget that face, that smile, and that freaking song that resounds undyingly in my head?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I know, like any other, this will surely fade but somewhere inside me wants to keep it longer. I want to keep the fire burning until such time I realize that all I have is nothing but &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;" &gt;a fantasy in mind&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;. For before this came to me, I have long &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;" &gt;lost&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; the game. As to why, I can't tell you. It's just a matter of &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;TRUTH&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;REALITY&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I can never win a fight that, in the first place, will never even begin.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;____________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;01:43;06.21.09&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8273518-2465823706008489707?l=tweendlines.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/feeds/2465823706008489707/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2009/06/details-in-fabric.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/2465823706008489707'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/2465823706008489707'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2009/06/details-in-fabric.html' title='Details In the Fabric'/><author><name>Issa M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08965460158132807720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__SG1WqGVqVs/SPtV-Mdp6XI/AAAAAAAAAA4/esgPCv9KL8I/S220/bioweek.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8273518.post-1167942082536113296</id><published>2009-05-21T17:22:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-05-21T17:42:27.201+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Offline</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial; font-weight: bold;"&gt;SUMMER&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I went out for a walk in the beach. It was my plan yesterday to go out for a walk thinking that I’ve been living a sedentary life for a couple of weeks. Imagine how I spent my days half of it sleeping and the other half just eating and watching tv. Well, I got tired of having the same routine everyday so I decided to do something different. [Actually, I got worried about my health. It’s not healthy for my heart to be sitting around and doing nothing the whole day. Grr.]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: arial;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__SG1WqGVqVs/ShUfANBV7PI/AAAAAAAAACg/G3IvYXpxnx8/s1600-h/sand_issa.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 243px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__SG1WqGVqVs/ShUfANBV7PI/AAAAAAAAACg/G3IvYXpxnx8/s320/sand_issa.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338207021673344242" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: arial;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__SG1WqGVqVs/ShUgFDmu0-I/AAAAAAAAACo/irhVuOs0wa4/s1600-h/sand_link.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 243px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__SG1WqGVqVs/ShUgFDmu0-I/AAAAAAAAACo/irhVuOs0wa4/s320/sand_link.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338208204556784610" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: arial;"&gt;Sand-writing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt; [&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: arial;"&gt;edited&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;] I wrote a couple words and doodled a little in the sand. It made the short walk more fun but a little bit exhausting. ;p&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I’m thinking whether or not to do the same thing tomorrow. How about taking a short, healthy exercise tomorrow? Hmm. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial; font-weight: bold;"&gt;ISSA&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;22:13&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;05.19.09&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;_______&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;JOURNAL&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Got myself thinking about whether in the future there’ll be a thing that records everything that goes into your mind. It would be really cool to have something like that and I’d surely buy it. Haha. I guess I’m talking nonsense again. Really, I do want to have that kind of thing. I’ve wanted so much to record or write all of my random thoughts so I can just rewind it or read it aloud to those who want to hear or know about it. It’s kind of weird, not to mention, stupid but I just want to share my ideas about things. I know it’s crazy. Who the hell is going to be interested in reading all sorts of stuffs running through my mind? Well, I don’t know. What if there is? What if there’s someone out there who’d be interested in wasting his/her time knowing more about &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;me&lt;/span&gt;? Haha.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;.....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I want a tablet PC! huhuhu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial; font-weight: bold;"&gt;ISSA&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;00:17&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;05.21.09&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8273518-1167942082536113296?l=tweendlines.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/feeds/1167942082536113296/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2009/05/offline.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/1167942082536113296'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/1167942082536113296'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2009/05/offline.html' title='Offline'/><author><name>Issa M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08965460158132807720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__SG1WqGVqVs/SPtV-Mdp6XI/AAAAAAAAAA4/esgPCv9KL8I/S220/bioweek.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__SG1WqGVqVs/ShUfANBV7PI/AAAAAAAAACg/G3IvYXpxnx8/s72-c/sand_issa.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8273518.post-6579410430413324583</id><published>2009-05-18T17:54:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2009-05-18T18:14:46.294+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Veiled Lines</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Will I be convicted by any living man if I would express myself truly? Or should I just end up letting my heart burst into pieces for containing my happiness for so long? I surely do let myself have some devilish little laughs in times of nearly breaching my limits but for how long will I keep it to myself? With those childish, sinful grins I have breathed my heart little by little but never had been any chance I expressed myself more. I know demanding for more would mean opening up with no pretense to the world. It sure does sound appealing yet I dread other people’s remarks afterwards. Better still keep my own insanity hidden to the unappreciative world I was born into.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;____________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;22:42;05.17.09&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8273518-6579410430413324583?l=tweendlines.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/feeds/6579410430413324583/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2009/05/veiled-lines.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/6579410430413324583'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/6579410430413324583'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2009/05/veiled-lines.html' title='Veiled Lines'/><author><name>Issa M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08965460158132807720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__SG1WqGVqVs/SPtV-Mdp6XI/AAAAAAAAAA4/esgPCv9KL8I/S220/bioweek.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8273518.post-3109306474210675565</id><published>2009-05-14T19:42:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-05-15T19:37:58.340+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Big Fat Liar</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;We can never have everything we want in our life. The truth is there are times we need to lie to ourselves that we’re happy and contented to what we are at the moment even if it’s not how we want it to be. Sometimes, we have to sacrifice our own happiness for the sake of our loved ones. It may be painful, but doing so gives meaning to our own existence. Maybe, some of us were just not meant to have joyful endings. At the end, we’ll just have to admit to ourselves that all those years we lived were simply the fruit of our unselfish lie.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;____________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;14:26;05.14.09&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8273518-3109306474210675565?l=tweendlines.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/feeds/3109306474210675565/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2009/05/big-fat-liar.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/3109306474210675565'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/3109306474210675565'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2009/05/big-fat-liar.html' title='The Big Fat Liar'/><author><name>Issa M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08965460158132807720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__SG1WqGVqVs/SPtV-Mdp6XI/AAAAAAAAAA4/esgPCv9KL8I/S220/bioweek.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8273518.post-3338138736626918221</id><published>2009-05-13T20:30:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-05-13T20:39:06.139+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Laugh It Off</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;“You make it sound as if it’s a disease.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;______&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Would there be even a &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;CURE&lt;/span&gt; if it is?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&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/8273518-3338138736626918221?l=tweendlines.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/feeds/3338138736626918221/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2009/05/laugh-it-off.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/3338138736626918221'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/3338138736626918221'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2009/05/laugh-it-off.html' title='Laugh It Off'/><author><name>Issa M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08965460158132807720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__SG1WqGVqVs/SPtV-Mdp6XI/AAAAAAAAAA4/esgPCv9KL8I/S220/bioweek.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8273518.post-2549808144182515462</id><published>2009-05-11T19:55:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-05-11T20:02:51.200+08:00</updated><title type='text'>It Makes No Difference</title><content type='html'>&lt;div  style="text-align: justify;font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I seem to understand now the importance of having a positive attitude in any way and in which ever place you may be. The days I had in all places I went to were just simply the mirror image of the other. Although I can’t consider myself to be well-traveled and that I practically visited only a few places in my entire life, I’d say, they’re all pretty much boring to the point that I’d rather spend my days sleeping. I can see now that although being in other places would mean being with different people and living a different lifestyle, it would always depend on how you’d come up to entertain yourself. Moreover, things would just change only if you choose to. It is us who decide whether or not to be happy. We are the ones who give meaning to all the things that happen to us and how we all equate everything is according to our discretion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Think positive. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;It’s all in the mind. It is &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;US&lt;/span&gt; who create the difference. So smile!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8273518-2549808144182515462?l=tweendlines.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/feeds/2549808144182515462/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2009/05/it-makes-no-difference.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/2549808144182515462'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/2549808144182515462'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2009/05/it-makes-no-difference.html' title='It Makes No Difference'/><author><name>Issa M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08965460158132807720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__SG1WqGVqVs/SPtV-Mdp6XI/AAAAAAAAAA4/esgPCv9KL8I/S220/bioweek.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8273518.post-8413237450361529545</id><published>2009-05-06T00:57:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-05-06T02:22:43.744+08:00</updated><title type='text'>From M.D. to J.D.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I came from Manila after a week stay with my &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;newly found&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; relatives there to attend my sister's graceful exit from medical school. It was quite frustrating since I dream of graduating from medical school myself but I failed to convince my mom to send me off to med school. My stay there was so tiresome, me and my mom kept on arguing about where to send me after I graduate in college. And my sister won't stop pushing me to attend her grad and had always sided with my mom that I should go to law school. Even my cousin, Ara, won't agree with me that I'd do better if I go med school. They all just laughed at me. Urgh!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I can't help but to envy my sister. Especially, after the commencement exercise, they kept on addressing her as,"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;" &gt;Doctora&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;" or "Dr. Mendoza". Don't get me wrong, I am truly delighted that she finally graduated from med school. Imagine how it feels to have a doctor as a sister? Haha!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Anyway, it was still fun being there and being with my other relatives including the nice, comfy accommodation. Thank you so much to Kuya Nerio, Ate Elsa and the others for the warm welcome. I sooo love the non-stop eating. Hehe. [&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;my tummy got bigger that my pants won't fit now...&lt;/span&gt;] Well, one more thing that made me glad I went to attend my sister's grad, I finally got myself a laptop. See? I should be happy. lol&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;_______&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Oh, by the way, my mom now made her final decision. I'm going to law school. Damn.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8273518-8413237450361529545?l=tweendlines.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/feeds/8413237450361529545/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2009/05/from-md-to-jd.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/8413237450361529545'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/8413237450361529545'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2009/05/from-md-to-jd.html' title='From M.D. to J.D.'/><author><name>Issa M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08965460158132807720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__SG1WqGVqVs/SPtV-Mdp6XI/AAAAAAAAAA4/esgPCv9KL8I/S220/bioweek.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8273518.post-7602222731620041950</id><published>2009-04-19T21:28:00.007+08:00</published><updated>2009-04-21T13:39:42.257+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I Ain't Crazy</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Today, I sat in my room, asked myself, “What the heck am I supposed to do?” In this dusty old room I wept, confused on what it is that makes me stay. “To be or not to be”, I asked some more. What has gone to the other half of me that would stay delighted and bright despite all the quizzical, unforgiving moments of life? I am left here with not a single reason to fight.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Today, I said to myself, “It is for the people who strive hardest that achieves the best in life and not for those who only sit still waiting for some graces to arrive”. My mind got wandering through the possible outcomes I may have but right before I was able to choose, they all escaped into thin air. Again, I talked to myself, “How are those freaking dreams going to be possible when all you can do is sit here and stay idle? Do you think it’ll just one day come and hit you off this chair? You’re no good. You know you’re capable of doing things and yet you choose to be lazy at every chance you have. Maybe you’ll end up being nothing”. Wow. I pity myself again for the nth time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Today, I asked, “What if there’s no difference between achieving something in life and merely surviving life? What if you choose to live simply, not wanting more of the material things this society has to offer, will it be okay?” I said this because I know myself well enough. I know that whatever I do, I’ll just end up regretting everything I’ve started because in the end, none of them will be finished. I always quit.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Today, I thought hard enough for me to write them down in words. “Maybe, if I wasn’t aware of the better things that exist in the world, I’d never have dreamt having them for myself. Maybe if I never knew the importance of money and the things that go with it in this kind of society, then I would have been satisfied and stay contented living a simple life back in some old, little town far from the busy cities. I would have been happy long ago”. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Today, I had a little chat with myself. I may not be feeling fine but I ain’t crazy, dear. I thought it would somehow clear out my mind so I can finally start taking things more seriously, but I guess it didn’t work. Urgh! I am left hanging more confused than before. Tsk.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8273518-7602222731620041950?l=tweendlines.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/feeds/7602222731620041950/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2009/04/i-aint-crazy.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/7602222731620041950'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/7602222731620041950'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2009/04/i-aint-crazy.html' title='I Ain&apos;t Crazy'/><author><name>Issa M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08965460158132807720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__SG1WqGVqVs/SPtV-Mdp6XI/AAAAAAAAAA4/esgPCv9KL8I/S220/bioweek.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8273518.post-5398624964979858288</id><published>2009-04-04T19:34:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-04-04T20:11:11.979+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Cold Release</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I wonder why im so envious on her. Well, it's probably because she gets what she wants and maybe because she's living the life I can only dream of. I can't be blamed for pitying myself more each time I see her. She makes me realize how far/how different we are from each other and how an apple like me fell so far from the tree. It's no wonder why most of the time I call myself a loser; how am I to compete with her? It's just hopeless.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Even when we were little, she had already established that bar, which separated the two of us. It was her who had more talents, although I practically developed my own in other fields, still I was left way behind her. I envied her ever since. Then, unknowingly, I was already dreaming to live her life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;But now, it's different. I have grown already. I now know what I want in life and what I want for myself. Is it just too hard to believe that I have also chosen to take the same field of study as hers? That for no known reason, I &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;desperately&lt;/span&gt; want to be a DOCTOR?! fc*k&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;________&lt;br /&gt;Out of boredom and my impossible dream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8273518-5398624964979858288?l=tweendlines.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/feeds/5398624964979858288/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2009/04/cold-release.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/5398624964979858288'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/5398624964979858288'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2009/04/cold-release.html' title='Cold Release'/><author><name>Issa M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08965460158132807720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__SG1WqGVqVs/SPtV-Mdp6XI/AAAAAAAAAA4/esgPCv9KL8I/S220/bioweek.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8273518.post-3484208706779270183</id><published>2009-04-02T00:38:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-04-02T01:08:57.958+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Las Tontas</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Summer has officially started in my calendar. Damn!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I'm terribly suffering from my past loads I have yet to finish. Gawd. I wish to go home and enjoy the summer's heat but I guess I'm stuck here in Tacloban to drown in schoolworks. Although I plan to take a trip tomorrow to Borongan, it seems that it's going to be a short vacation since I'll be back here after the Holy Week. Well, at least we're going to have a family reunion on Tuesday. I just hope it would be enough for me to forget about my happy summer. Huhu. Nanay's really been pushy about me graduating after the first semester [I just hope I would] that's why I have to work on my thesis this summer. [&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Sad&lt;/span&gt;] Anyway, I'll have allowance this summer. At least I have something to look forward to. Haha.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;As to how my day went, hmm, I spent my whole day sleeping at the sofa. I was supposed to go to school but then I felt really tired from last night's drinking session as so I decided to stay at home. Anyway, I heard from a friend that there is a virus on the net today. He said it was an April Fool's Day bug. His computer got infected and so he was left with no choice but to reformat it. Haha. Cool.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I feel sleepy already. Gotta rest now. I'll be back after the Holy Week.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;_______&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;The Fools&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8273518-3484208706779270183?l=tweendlines.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/feeds/3484208706779270183/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2009/04/las-tontas.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/3484208706779270183'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/3484208706779270183'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2009/04/las-tontas.html' title='Las Tontas'/><author><name>Issa M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08965460158132807720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__SG1WqGVqVs/SPtV-Mdp6XI/AAAAAAAAAA4/esgPCv9KL8I/S220/bioweek.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8273518.post-7018381105055639039</id><published>2009-03-15T02:32:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-03-29T01:28:10.417+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Kwintas</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Nakalutang ako sa alaala ng payong matambong&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;ng maraming kahapong luhaan na sa laot tumatanaw.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Yakap ng dilim at malakas na hangin, sumisigaw.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Dito tayo mas mababaw. Andito ang sikat ng araw&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;gumuguhit sa balikat ko at sa mga labi, nag-uumapaw."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div  style="text-align: right;font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;-- R &amp;amp; J (2006)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:xx-small;"  &gt;Drifting again to a delusional fantasy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8273518-7018381105055639039?l=tweendlines.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/feeds/7018381105055639039/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2009/03/kwintas.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/7018381105055639039'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/7018381105055639039'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2009/03/kwintas.html' title='Kwintas'/><author><name>Issa M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08965460158132807720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__SG1WqGVqVs/SPtV-Mdp6XI/AAAAAAAAAA4/esgPCv9KL8I/S220/bioweek.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8273518.post-1545145493274835949</id><published>2009-03-11T02:18:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-03-29T01:28:47.339+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Randomness</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;It's the people's undying judgment that kills the beauty of freedom and yet without it, life's pretty much boring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If we all can do the things we wanna do freely and be happy to the fullest extent of our hearts, how can we then be satisfied by what we have? How can we be able to appreciate the wonderful moments we have in our lives if we can all just go out there and find it? And how'd you think we'll be able to realize how fortunate we are for experiencing such thing? I guess, we owe much to those big-mouthed neighbors we have. Thanks to their non-stop, biased scrutinizing we are able to find happiness. To me, what they do just spices life more and the more they treat you like shit, the more you're driven to do better. I guess it's the challenge to defeat other people's negative claims that excites you more. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div  style="text-align: left;font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;__________________&lt;br /&gt;"You're too scared to look the world in the eye and let it watch you fall in love."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8273518-1545145493274835949?l=tweendlines.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/feeds/1545145493274835949/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2009/03/randomness.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/1545145493274835949'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/1545145493274835949'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2009/03/randomness.html' title='Randomness'/><author><name>Issa M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08965460158132807720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__SG1WqGVqVs/SPtV-Mdp6XI/AAAAAAAAAA4/esgPCv9KL8I/S220/bioweek.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8273518.post-8238448172780140691</id><published>2009-02-17T01:05:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2009-03-29T01:28:58.395+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Viral Infection</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Has this nose-clogging colds blocked my willingness to focus most effectively on the things I do? Well, for the past 5 days I've been feeling sick coupled by losing all my interest in studying any material given to me [not that I usually have this urge to study]. I have three exams this week and every time I look at my notes, I feel distantly occupied like I just lost my proper consciousness. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;My brain's not functioning rightly as if it's infected with a certain virus or bacteria messing up all mental activities. Like when I'm talking, I just stop somewhere in the middle and realize I can't remember what I was trying to point out. It's like I'm having some blackouts only that I'm not. I don't know what happened to me. My symptoms just started appearing right after I got sick. What am I to do? I desperately need help. asap.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;_______&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;My health is now starting to deteriorate.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8273518-8238448172780140691?l=tweendlines.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/feeds/8238448172780140691/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2009/02/virus-alert.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/8238448172780140691'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/8238448172780140691'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2009/02/virus-alert.html' title='Viral Infection'/><author><name>Issa M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08965460158132807720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__SG1WqGVqVs/SPtV-Mdp6XI/AAAAAAAAAA4/esgPCv9KL8I/S220/bioweek.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8273518.post-5662348631899074395</id><published>2009-02-13T23:29:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2009-03-29T01:29:09.047+08:00</updated><title type='text'>When Black and White turn to Gray</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;The hell day's ending and the damage and catastrophes it left the people behind are now ready to heal. Owws? Haha. I wonder why many people believe in such a thing as misfortune. Anyway, I don't, so why should I care? Haha.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;It's the gradual change happening to me right now that made me post this entry. I have recently noticed that compared to what I was before, I seem to be more unfocused these days. Although, for some time now, I have set a goal I should achieve, I seem not to be taking things seriously. Seriously. I've been slacking around more and my days aren't as productive as before. What the heck is happening to me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow is Heart's Day. I still have no idea what to do and where to go so you if you have anything good to offer, just tell me. I am not into the romantic  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;chuchu &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;like other people. All I want is not to be left hanging around and feeling bored while others are having fun with their hubbies. A friendly date would be fun. Don't you think? ;p&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I'm sleeping my life away. wow!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8273518-5662348631899074395?l=tweendlines.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/feeds/5662348631899074395/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2009/02/when-black-and-white-turn-to-gray.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/5662348631899074395'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/5662348631899074395'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2009/02/when-black-and-white-turn-to-gray.html' title='When Black and White turn to Gray'/><author><name>Issa M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08965460158132807720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__SG1WqGVqVs/SPtV-Mdp6XI/AAAAAAAAAA4/esgPCv9KL8I/S220/bioweek.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8273518.post-2466363608319065319</id><published>2009-01-20T22:57:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-03-29T01:29:19.550+08:00</updated><title type='text'>In Between</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial,helvetica;"&gt;Well, I've been wondering. Is there really such a thing as being "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial,helvetica;" &gt;in between&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial,helvetica;"&gt;"?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial,helvetica;"&gt;Like saying you're no longer angry but still keeping that grudge inside of you?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial,helvetica;"&gt;Or maybe playing half-okay but it still shows you're not.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial,helvetica;"&gt;So as saying there's God but not actually believing in Him?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial,helvetica;"&gt;Why is that we try not to be "this one" but not actually wanting to be the "other one"?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial,helvetica;"&gt;These make me consider the human mind as the biggest conundrum of all.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial,helvetica;"&gt;As to those believing in humanistic existentialism, I'll ask you, "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(140, 66, 98);font-family:arial,helvetica;" &gt;Is being "&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;in between&lt;/span&gt;" a product of your choice or merely the phase where you cannot make a choice?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial,helvetica;"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial,helvetica;"&gt;It's like saying being &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial,helvetica;" &gt;in between &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial,helvetica;"&gt;means that you're being on that fine line that separates one thing from the other and you're just too coward to choose and make a final decision.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial,helvetica;" &gt;I guess I should end this. My thoughts are now mixed up making this whole thing more confusing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial,helvetica;"&gt;________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial,helvetica;"&gt;Can you &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);font-family:arial,helvetica;" &gt;forever&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial,helvetica;"&gt; stay in that line which separates what you're supposed to be and what you're not?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8273518-2466363608319065319?l=tweendlines.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/feeds/2466363608319065319/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2009/01/in-between.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/2466363608319065319'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/2466363608319065319'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2009/01/in-between.html' title='In Between'/><author><name>Issa M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08965460158132807720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__SG1WqGVqVs/SPtV-Mdp6XI/AAAAAAAAAA4/esgPCv9KL8I/S220/bioweek.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8273518.post-2005384874167073459</id><published>2008-12-18T21:25:00.007+08:00</published><updated>2009-03-29T01:30:03.421+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Purple Coincidence</title><content type='html'>&lt;div  style="text-align: justify;font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;More than a year ago...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I was alone back home and I felt reall&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;y bored. I flicked through the pages of my old W.I.T.C.H. magazine to counter boredom but it was of no use. I then sank back to my bed with no avail of proper entertainment. My room was already in complete darkness when I found a better way of ridding the dull moment. It took me a couple of minutes to compose a text message for &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;" &gt;Purple&lt;/span&gt; [not her real name] where I expressed my disapproval of her. I sent it to her two numbers – both smart and globe to ensure that she reads it. Although the message didn't mention any names, I guess she'd assume it was her. After that, I never received any texts from her nor a simple reply to the message I sent her. She just erased me in her list of friends in friendster.com and called me a monster in her shoutout.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I really don't know what has gotten into me back then. I know I have liked her as a friend but it seemed to me she had lack of interest in keeping our friendship. So there it ended...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;" &gt;A couple of months later...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I tried to gain again her friendship but at the same time distanced myself from her and a few of our mutual friends. I was confused on what to do. Half of me wanted to have her again as my friend but my other half wanted to stay as far away from her as possible. Of course the latter half of me was defeated. It was hard to keep distance. I always see her in school plus both of us have the same class schedule. How'd you stay away?;p&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;" &gt;Last year...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;It was the 18th of December 2007 when I requeste&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;d a friend in Manila to find and purchase me a copy of Utada Hikaru's single collection. I planned on giving the CD to &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;" &gt;Purple&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; as a Christmas gift [we always have "exchange gifts" in our class every year]. Last, last year [2006], I picked &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;" &gt;Purple&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;. She was still my friend back then so it was easy to give her a Christmas gift. But last year, it was different. We were no longer friends. I tried my luck and took the chance. I thought to myself, "Maybe, this is it. Maybe i can talk to her and clear things out". But that was just a thought. It never really happened. Our party was canceled and so was the exchanging of gifts. I was left terribly disappointed. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I've made a post about what happened last year [&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: arial;" href="http://krizahn.multiply.com/journal/item/33/Why"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;] . Just read it if you want.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__SG1WqGVqVs/SXyemVDTJrI/AAAAAAAAACE/035xrmV3ngc/s1600-h/z2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 156px; height: 121px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__SG1WqGVqVs/SXyemVDTJrI/AAAAAAAAACE/035xrmV3ngc/s200/z2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295281643204060850" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;" &gt;Yesterday..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;" &gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Almost a year had past and it's Christmas again. While I was getting ready for school yesterday, I searched my cabinet for the gift I kept there last year. It was &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;still there, inside a red plastic bag [still Comic Alley's] was my gift, wrapped in a golden foil and tied with a red ribbon. After what happened last year, I kept the gift hoping that someday I may be able to give it to her. Haha. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Last night [12.17.08] was our Christmas Party. As usual, we exchanged gifts. Guess who I picked? Taahdaah! It's her again, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;" &gt;Purple&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;. Third time out of four. Woaa. Isn't it odd? For the past 3 years I've been picking the same name each Christmas. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Though I'm supposed to be happy now, I really can't help but wonder, "are we good? I mean, is everything gonna be alright now?” I know it can't be like before but I'm still hoping we can be friends again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I'll just see you next year.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;_________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Taking down few things wont do much, right?.;p&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Happy Holidays, everyone!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&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/8273518-2005384874167073459?l=tweendlines.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/feeds/2005384874167073459/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2008/12/plain-coincidence.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/2005384874167073459'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/2005384874167073459'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2008/12/plain-coincidence.html' title='Purple Coincidence'/><author><name>Issa M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08965460158132807720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__SG1WqGVqVs/SPtV-Mdp6XI/AAAAAAAAAA4/esgPCv9KL8I/S220/bioweek.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__SG1WqGVqVs/SXyemVDTJrI/AAAAAAAAACE/035xrmV3ngc/s72-c/z2.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8273518.post-5537828911432556617</id><published>2008-11-23T03:35:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-03-29T01:30:17.221+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Reality Bites</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I sprung up into my feet realizing my day past by with me not noticing. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I woke up this morning, nearly lunch time, with my eyes set widely to my phone's clock as I glared in amazement. The sun was blazing hot outside, people already busy doing their weekend chores and I hear from the other room, my housemates were already busy chattering. It was then I remembered that I purposely overslept. It was the howling, spinning head of mine that knocked me off to bed last night. It was still the same feeling lingering on my head that kept me on my bed the whole morning, although fainter this time. I made an easy rise from my bed and went down to freshen up.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;After eating lunch with a little enthusiasm - I was already alone at home when I got up; I went up straight to my room to open my computer. Just then I decided to entertain myself for the rest of the day reading another book. I have it here in my computer a copy of the Twilight Series ebooks. I'm done reading Twilight so my next was the New Moon. My friends' disapproval with my habit never really bothered me. They say that reading in front of my computer would stress out my eyes but then I never really cared. Reading felt so diverting. As chapters past, I did not recognize the clock was even ticking and that the time had flew by too fast. Barely thinking, as already my usual habit, I looked at my phone’s digital clock and to my dismay it was already 5 o'clock in the afternoon. Time had swiftly flown by and I can not believe that I wasted another day accomplishing nothing aside from finishing off eight chapters of an ebook.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I gently pressed down my body to the comfy warmth of my bed and slowly closed my eyes. I tried to think about the things I was supposed to do - my school works that I had intentionally neglected. For a brief moment I wanted to rewind everything and put them all in the "right" place. And there, again, the feeling of defeat, cowardliness, and self-pity ruled over my body. I was half ashamed of myself. It was because of my lack of confidence and spirit towards the concept of "work" that dislodged me from my now, poor-fated reality. This time, I sprung out of bed to head off downstairs. The place had already darkened and the night had fallen faster than I thought it would be. I knew why I was doing all these nonsense stuffs and I knew pretty well that these won’t serve its purpose. I thought I can get out of this much easier but I was wrong. Clearly, an escape from reality was not the right thing to do but this is the only way I know and I this is how I do it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I ended up my day still reading the "supposedly diverting" ebook. Well, it did take up much time for me not to wonder about my now, down-fated, real life. I'm even quite astound that I'm actually writing about it right now, describing all in detail. I wonder how I'll get through this. Urgh!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;_________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Reality bites me again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8273518-5537828911432556617?l=tweendlines.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/feeds/5537828911432556617/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2008/11/reality-bites.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/5537828911432556617'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/5537828911432556617'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2008/11/reality-bites.html' title='Reality Bites'/><author><name>Issa M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08965460158132807720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__SG1WqGVqVs/SPtV-Mdp6XI/AAAAAAAAAA4/esgPCv9KL8I/S220/bioweek.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8273518.post-6896756876924535259</id><published>2008-11-13T00:46:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-03-29T01:30:37.510+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Let It Out</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Asked her whether she's jealous or not and answered me with, "No, no, I'm not" [with her eyes widely open and her voice louder than usual]. And then reiterated it for about three or four times. For more than three years I've been close to her, I perfectly know she was not telling the truth. So I asked her again, in a more serious tone, "Are you jealous?". And then she said, "Absolutely".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; People sometimes want to hide their feelings - how happy they really are, how furious they can be, etc.I don't know if it's their way of protecting themselves from being totally consumed by what they feel. I mean, people normally would not want other people to know they're suffering because of missing something out or just being left out alone while others are having fun in a family reunion. They think that it is safer for them to keep it, believing that it is easier to forget and let go of that particular feeling if kept unsaid. But then I'd tell them, why not try speaking up, tell everyone the truth. In that way, the burden you're feeling inside of you will probably lighten up. And you'll see, the feeling will subside in no time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; ________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; Label warning: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;An outburst is not what you need.&lt;br /&gt;Be considerate to your poor nerves.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8273518-6896756876924535259?l=tweendlines.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/feeds/6896756876924535259/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2008/11/let-it-out.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/6896756876924535259'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/6896756876924535259'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2008/11/let-it-out.html' title='Let It Out'/><author><name>Issa M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08965460158132807720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__SG1WqGVqVs/SPtV-Mdp6XI/AAAAAAAAAA4/esgPCv9KL8I/S220/bioweek.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8273518.post-6129249155291992708</id><published>2008-10-24T00:12:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-03-29T01:30:48.444+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Temporary Dismissal</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;" &gt;Music Playing: Our House by Phantom Planet&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I don't know exactly what to post on right now. I just opened a new window for a new post then I started writing. I'm afraid I lost almost three quarters of my day only doing unimportant stuffs. I feel so depressed having to receive my grades for the first semester in my fourth year of college. You see, our grades are seen through the internet and I've been waiting to see it since Monday. For that reason, I always check on the website every two hours just to know if one of my professors had submitted our grade already.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Past three this afternoon, I turned on my computer and typed in the U.P. website. Unfortunately, I was baffled by what I saw on the column for my academic status, it said, "DISMISSAL". Next to it, I saw my tentative GWA, which was 3.5. God knows were to pick me up if I'm totally dismissed in my degree program. As I opened the details on my current grades, I saw that there were only two grades, one for my Seminar subject and the other one for my Technical Writing subject. I got 2.0 and 4.0, respectively. I don't know what to do next so I went off straight to the bathroom and took a bath. After a short, non-refreshing, bath, I went back to my room to change but while I was changing, I checked on the website one more time. There I saw that my GWA increased so do the status became a "WARNING".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I still feel depressed and down. Now, I totally find myself lost to my exhausting, untollerably crazy life. Things, right now, are messed up and I can't find a way to fix them. Many questions run through my mind such as: When will I go home? What should I do? What's the best thing to do? How should I spend my break with greatest benefits? Should I just stop and accept defeat? Will I still be able to graduate on time?... I believe there are alot more questions - all I want to be answered. I just hope it wouldn't be too late then.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;la, la, la,...life used to be so hard...[it still is]           --&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; a song by Phantom Planet&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8273518-6129249155291992708?l=tweendlines.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/feeds/6129249155291992708/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2008/10/temporary-dismissal.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/6129249155291992708'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/6129249155291992708'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2008/10/temporary-dismissal.html' title='Temporary Dismissal'/><author><name>Issa M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08965460158132807720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__SG1WqGVqVs/SPtV-Mdp6XI/AAAAAAAAAA4/esgPCv9KL8I/S220/bioweek.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8273518.post-1582998427412443456</id><published>2008-10-18T23:44:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-03-29T01:30:59.370+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Shut up!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I wanna stop, think for a minute or two then shout out to people with attitude problems. Damn, why does people nowadays tend to forget about what they've learned when they were little. All i want is just some piece of respect here.Why is it that when i start to speak up, people would just talk out loud as if they never heard me? Am i that too unimportant? Are the words I'm saying nonsensical for everyone? Please, hear me out.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;After the enormous load this semester has given me including the final exams and papers that took away my whole week's good night sleep, I wonder why i am still not rejoicing. Not an hour had past when Mr.Not tried to deliberately ignore my unsolicited opinion and advice. Well, the fact that he opened the topic and when i plunged into it, he just withdrawn the whole conversation. I just hope he did consider on how i felt after he dumped out my opinion. Anyway, things could not get any worse if i start to avoid him, right? Yeah, that's probably what I'll do for the couple of weeks to come. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;__________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;"I leave my friends not because I hate them but because I wanna keep them longer."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8273518-1582998427412443456?l=tweendlines.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/feeds/1582998427412443456/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2008/10/shut-up.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/1582998427412443456'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/1582998427412443456'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2008/10/shut-up.html' title='Shut up!'/><author><name>Issa M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08965460158132807720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__SG1WqGVqVs/SPtV-Mdp6XI/AAAAAAAAAA4/esgPCv9KL8I/S220/bioweek.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8273518.post-9180411625740783439</id><published>2008-10-10T00:09:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-10T00:10:29.140+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Horoscope: Change</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Lovely it is to see change in me but is it too late already?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I read my horoscope for the day right after I opened my computer. Here's how it goes:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Wanting change in your life and making change happen in your life both have one thing in common -- patience. If someone else holds the power over a big promotion, job change or other kind of role change, you cannot force them to make their decisions any faster than they are going to make them. And if you are working at creating new change, you have to understand that everyone else doesn't necessarily move on your timetable. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Just take a deep breath! Then wait.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;This quote holds true to how I feel right now. Chad mentioned to me the other night that he was quite surprised on how I changed since the start of the semester. My old self was too different on the current &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;" &gt;me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;. Although for awhile, I thought, did I really change? Or is it just the fruit of the moment. I mean, I have a lot of things to do right now and there's practically no time for leisure. Perhaps it is not the right time for the easy-going "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;" &gt;me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Additionally, I believe that if I have changed, then it is also brought up by the people around me. I am thankful for my good friends that are making me feel that I am important. In the past, I felt so down. I even pitied myself for being neglected by the people I considered as friends. Now I no longer feel that way. I am happy and so i am encouraged to do good in school. That's probably the reason why they say I have changed. I just want to thank them. Thank you, guys!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Although they say I have changed, I still feel it's already too late. The problems I am currently facing started for quite a while now and so I think it is no longer possible for me to change the way things are going be. Maybe I'll still end up disappointing myself. I hope there's still a chance. Please help me, God.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;__________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;How high is the sky?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8273518-9180411625740783439?l=tweendlines.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/feeds/9180411625740783439/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2008/10/horoscope-change.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/9180411625740783439'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/9180411625740783439'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2008/10/horoscope-change.html' title='Horoscope: Change'/><author><name>Issa M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08965460158132807720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__SG1WqGVqVs/SPtV-Mdp6XI/AAAAAAAAAA4/esgPCv9KL8I/S220/bioweek.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8273518.post-3710287441866322660</id><published>2008-09-30T23:24:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-01T00:00:08.218+08:00</updated><title type='text'>When September Ends</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;When September Ends&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I recently downloaded When September Ends from my friend's flashdrive...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;The month of September was so tiring for me yet i had a lot of funny experiences acquired. The month started with the lively celebration of UP Sportsfest including my hometown's fiesta. I remembered I had enjoyed those days when school was not yet demanding with all the requirements for the end of the semester. Although my days and weeks after those happy moments were been tormented by my inconsiderate professors who loaded us with tons of work to do. My days never run out of mind-numbing activities. Yet, surprisingly, I was able to withstand all those problems with the help of the Almightly God and my few supportive friends.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I don't know but the things happened this month was unimaginable. Haha. I was able to do my papers &amp;amp; review, answered four (4) mind-boggling exams, and presented a seminar talk last week. It's quite hard. Poured some hardwork there and some luck to back it up. I even cried for nearly a week when I thought everything was slowly falling into pieces. I wanted to surrender and spend another year in UP but thank you for my friends, I was able to find new strength to do all those requirements. I thought it was already the end for me and that I'll disappoint my mom again this time. Good thing I didn't.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I'm really thankful I acquired new friends in school. I feel happy when I'm with them and it's when I'm with them that I think of my problems less. They're really a great help to me. Thank you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;September is now over. A few months more and it's already Christmas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I'm hoping to have another great month ahead.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8273518-3710287441866322660?l=tweendlines.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/feeds/3710287441866322660/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2008/09/when-september-ends.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/3710287441866322660'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/3710287441866322660'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2008/09/when-september-ends.html' title='When September Ends'/><author><name>Issa M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08965460158132807720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__SG1WqGVqVs/SPtV-Mdp6XI/AAAAAAAAAA4/esgPCv9KL8I/S220/bioweek.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8273518.post-6925138316308937729</id><published>2008-08-31T02:54:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2008-08-31T20:50:07.106+08:00</updated><title type='text'>August Rush</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;August Rush&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;This month was been a roller coaster ride for me. My days went from disappointingly rushed attempts to extremely wonderful days/nights. Nevertheless, I think that it still was been a great month and I cannot easily forget the things that happened to me. The feelings are totally mixed up preventing me to figure out my final mood for this month. Anyway, all I can say is that I had fun. It truly is a spice-filled month-long experience.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;By the way, I was amused by my Highs this month. Most of them were when I was with this particular person and I just can't help it but to feel lifted up. It's been fun. Although my Downs were not caused by a constant character, I just feel like rejoicing after my worst when I see that particular person. [pwwf]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Bioweek was been successful. I was able to rest for awhile from my terribly tiring subjects and I was able to interact with my fellow bio students. Although I ended up with tons of questions again but I immediately picked myself up and continued to show the good side of me. [lol]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;That's all, I guess. It was been a wonderful month filled with great lessons and happy memories that I'll definitely won't forget.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;_______&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I am hoping for a good month ahead.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8273518-6925138316308937729?l=tweendlines.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/feeds/6925138316308937729/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2008/08/august-rush.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/6925138316308937729'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/6925138316308937729'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2008/08/august-rush.html' title='August Rush'/><author><name>Issa M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08965460158132807720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__SG1WqGVqVs/SPtV-Mdp6XI/AAAAAAAAAA4/esgPCv9KL8I/S220/bioweek.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8273518.post-1668423034654245723</id><published>2008-08-13T21:31:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-08-13T21:57:36.668+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Grow Up</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Grow Up!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I don't know how to say this but all I want is for that &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;" &gt;someone&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; to grow up. I mean this person I'm talking about is already a grown up but still thinks and and acts like a young girl. I don't know if this person really notice herself doing this 'coz I do notice her do it on purpose. I can't see the reason for her doing this. She would smile and then talk childishly and then laugh on and on for no reason. She acts as though she doesn't have any problems. I don't know if she's doing this so she can hide her problems but that would be too lame.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Anyway, I really just can't tell her to grow up. It would be shameful for even I myself isn't acting like a grown up. I know how important my school works are but I seem to be unfocused, disoriented, and uninterested. I would always stay in bed daydreaming and after a while would open my computer to watch some movies. I don't know why I stay this way - lazy, undetermined ass.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;_____&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;How can &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;" &gt;I&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; help myself change? A secret potion perhaps?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8273518-1668423034654245723?l=tweendlines.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/feeds/1668423034654245723/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2008/08/grow-up.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/1668423034654245723'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/1668423034654245723'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2008/08/grow-up.html' title='Grow Up'/><author><name>Issa M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08965460158132807720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__SG1WqGVqVs/SPtV-Mdp6XI/AAAAAAAAAA4/esgPCv9KL8I/S220/bioweek.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8273518.post-4515107950306683011</id><published>2008-08-08T01:30:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2008-08-13T12:20:11.020+08:00</updated><title type='text'>3-in-1 Event</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;3-in-1 Event&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Today's the official start of the 2008 Olympics! My niece is also, at this moment, celebrating her 16th birthday. Wow. Her birthday and the Olympics are on the same date, August 8, 2008. It's not just because it's her birthday that I've been looking forward for this day to come but also because of the date. Think about it, today's 08-08-08! Isn't that great? This only happens every century so i guess we can call ourselves lucky then.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Anyway, i'm still up until now. This is my second post since the time i sat my patootie on this chair and i'm still working on that stupid witch's homework. Good luck to me! lol&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;By the way, I forgot to mention, I now have a printer! I bought it the other day and I got so happy that I printed out so many documents I've been wanting to get hold of. It's a 3-in-1 HP unit [printer, scanner, and copier]. Really cool.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Oh! and i already watched "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;" &gt;Batman Returns: The Dark Knight&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;". It's awesome. I just wish i understood other parts there. Some were really hard to synthesize and it was too long. Anyway, it was still great!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Too many updates but not a single one is related to my schoolwork. Bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8273518-4515107950306683011?l=tweendlines.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/feeds/4515107950306683011/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2008/08/3-in-1-event.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/4515107950306683011'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/4515107950306683011'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2008/08/3-in-1-event.html' title='3-in-1 Event'/><author><name>Issa M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08965460158132807720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__SG1WqGVqVs/SPtV-Mdp6XI/AAAAAAAAAA4/esgPCv9KL8I/S220/bioweek.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8273518.post-3349993291319521433</id><published>2008-08-07T21:57:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-08-13T12:15:44.409+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ugly, Bitchy, Witch</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Ugly, Bitchy, Witch!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;It's like i was hit by a hammer in the head; my fuckin' head hurts right now. Thinking about Tan and her fuckin' subjects makes me go crazy. I'm thinking of actually losing my mind over these Seminar and Technical Writing Courses. It seems that that witch put a spell on me making me fail almost all of my subjects under her. Imagine what she always do to me every time i wake up in the morning of tuesdays and fridays? God, she's the meanest witch i ever met [as if i met a real one yet, but yeah, i consider her as one]. I always get terrified every time I think of her. If only i can quit school.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;_____&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Is there any secret door so I can get away with this?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8273518-3349993291319521433?l=tweendlines.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/feeds/3349993291319521433/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2008/08/ugly-bitchy-witch.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/3349993291319521433'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/3349993291319521433'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2008/08/ugly-bitchy-witch.html' title='Ugly, Bitchy, Witch'/><author><name>Issa M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08965460158132807720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__SG1WqGVqVs/SPtV-Mdp6XI/AAAAAAAAAA4/esgPCv9KL8I/S220/bioweek.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8273518.post-6366697551672387443</id><published>2008-08-03T23:28:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-08-04T00:12:42.556+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Now this is what i call a "blog"</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Now this is what i call a "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;" &gt;blog&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I read my post for the past months and I noticed all of them were too dramatic. Some I would say exaggerated [at this moment - it is] maybe during that time it was the right emotions I was having. Any way, I just made this new post to use up my time [waste it]. I'm supposed to do school work tonight rather I stayed up to search for House M.D. on the net. I wanted to finish the whole fourth season so I resorted on the world wide web. The thing is, I just ended up reading the whole story including the details on each episode. Of course I wasn't satisfied only with that. I partnered it with some clips and vids on youtube since I cant find any full vids on the net [most links that I found were broken]...I was happy though that I was still able to finish it but was too disappointed with how the season ended. 'twas too sad and too gloomy. It was drastic that it ended that way. [huhu]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Err..drama again...lol. I'm trying to sort out my feelings since while I was reading/watching House MD I tried to squeeze in an anime I'm currently finishing off. It's funny 'coz the story revolves on six high school students that battles through the life in high school. They're all too naive and too clumsy at most times. It's really funny. Oh and the title by the way is "High School Girls". [I watched it to lighten up the atmosphere from House MD. I'm all alone at home and I don't wanna spend the rest of the evening feeling scared...lol]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Back to my school work, I've got tons of them. I don't know where to start so I ended up doing nothing. My whole weekend was wasted on watching movies and doing other stuffs. I just can't concentrate on my studies right now. The whole "thesis" thingy makes me wanna go crazy and  now I'm thinking of not actually graduating at all in college. God knows that I'm just too lazy to do work. [huhuhu]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;_______&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;p.s. Just can't imagine Wilde's got Huntington's at the season finale of House. I really do love her there - even more at the O.C. [errr...hahaha]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8273518-6366697551672387443?l=tweendlines.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/feeds/6366697551672387443/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2008/08/now-this-is-what-i-call-blog-i-read-my.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/6366697551672387443'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/6366697551672387443'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2008/08/now-this-is-what-i-call-blog-i-read-my.html' title='Now this is what i call a &quot;blog&quot;'/><author><name>Issa M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08965460158132807720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__SG1WqGVqVs/SPtV-Mdp6XI/AAAAAAAAAA4/esgPCv9KL8I/S220/bioweek.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8273518.post-2274115974001451079</id><published>2008-08-02T18:33:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2008-08-02T22:08:09.305+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Random</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;wit wiw&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;'tis too funny i get a lot of loads these past months but still have time to think about these nonsense "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: arial;font-size:85%;" &gt;shades&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;". lol. you probably don't understand what i'm saying; i just can't open these things in mind to the public. believe me, it is way too interesting to think about &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: arial;font-size:85%;" &gt;shades&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;. for the past weeks i think about it a lot. i can't even remember how it started, however, it is wonderful i did. haha&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;at the very first time i thought about it, i kinda freaked out. it is something so rare and probably something i never thought would pass my mind [but yah...it did]. i imagined myself encountering such thing and ended up thinking it is way too creepy and a little less manageable. but then after a while i just became fond of it and now i can totally accept it. lol. i find the topic too interesting that it always pops into my mind every time i sit down and do nothing. i know it's freaky and intriguing in a way but mind you it is not all that. there's more to it. i even do consider it as something that spices my life more. somehow, it brings me some twists so i'm having fun with it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;hahaha. you're probably wondering right now what i'm saying. it's nothing too serious nor too naughty [for green-minded people]. it is just me playing around with words again. haha...sorry for the randomness...lol&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;_____&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;**** shades&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8273518-2274115974001451079?l=tweendlines.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/feeds/2274115974001451079/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2008/08/random.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/2274115974001451079'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/2274115974001451079'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2008/08/random.html' title='Random'/><author><name>Issa M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08965460158132807720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__SG1WqGVqVs/SPtV-Mdp6XI/AAAAAAAAAA4/esgPCv9KL8I/S220/bioweek.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8273518.post-4885165320972860443</id><published>2008-07-19T21:15:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-07-19T21:50:00.309+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Again</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Again&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;i've been acting so weird this week or probably the whole month.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;and the past days were been tormented by my own selfish thoughts.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;it was kinda late this morning i got my answer to my question.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;the answer to my confusion or perhaps the best solution to it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;i ignored this before not thinking that this would not matter at all&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;but i was proved wrong by my own judgment&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;surely things could get better somehow if i stay this way -&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;a little bit confused but composed nonetheless.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;it is more rational to stick to what i am supposed to be&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;than to change my course of being&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;i am not betraying anyone, not myself, for this decision&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;this is who i am and this is how i should be.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;that's all.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;______&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;again i'm typing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8273518-4885165320972860443?l=tweendlines.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/feeds/4885165320972860443/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2008/07/again.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/4885165320972860443'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/4885165320972860443'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2008/07/again.html' title='Again'/><author><name>Issa M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08965460158132807720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__SG1WqGVqVs/SPtV-Mdp6XI/AAAAAAAAAA4/esgPCv9KL8I/S220/bioweek.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8273518.post-7352677667450889843</id><published>2008-07-06T21:31:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2008-07-08T07:30:31.576+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Joint Entry</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Selfish Me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[edit]&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;post has been removed&lt;/span&gt;[/edit]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;End&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;i want to laugh undyingly with the way i acted before [&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;or even minutes before i typed this 2nd entry&lt;/span&gt;]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;my behavior towards love was clearly unrighteous&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;it was just a shallow inclination towards &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;that&lt;/span&gt; person&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;my light attachment was over run by my exaggerated emotions&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;i now feel so embarrassed&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;maybe this is the last one [&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;i hope&lt;/span&gt;]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;goodbye&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;_________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;funny how it feels to be enlightened especially by something i never thought would make sense&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8273518-7352677667450889843?l=tweendlines.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/feeds/7352677667450889843/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2008/07/selfish-me-before-i-end-my-foolish-acts.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/7352677667450889843'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/7352677667450889843'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2008/07/selfish-me-before-i-end-my-foolish-acts.html' title='Joint Entry'/><author><name>Issa M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08965460158132807720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__SG1WqGVqVs/SPtV-Mdp6XI/AAAAAAAAAA4/esgPCv9KL8I/S220/bioweek.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8273518.post-2331347251350827771</id><published>2008-06-30T12:30:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-30T15:17:21.012+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Rant</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Misleading Rant&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;though i really do want to cry&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;no tears would come out from my eyes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;and though the feeling really is piercingly heavy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;i cannot allow myself to be drenched with thoughts &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;that would only worsen the hurt i feel right now&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;the whole thing is not really possible yet i still am affected&lt;br /&gt;i want to cry out to the world and tell them how i feel&lt;br /&gt;but no one would understand&lt;br /&gt;no one would listen&lt;br /&gt;at the end, i will just be judged wrongly&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;i perfectly know that i cannot continue doing this&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;i tried so many times to stop myself but my mind always failed me&lt;br /&gt;i assure you i would never stop trying&lt;br /&gt;this, i feel, is something i should let go&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;i am so sorry for the whole thing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;i never intended doing this&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;it just happened&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;i am deeply sorry&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;now thinking about it just cuts right through my skin and it is damn too painful!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;_______&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;oh my&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;i should not be ranting right now&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;but i really need to open this or else i will burst like hell&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8273518-2331347251350827771?l=tweendlines.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/feeds/2331347251350827771/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2008/06/rant.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/2331347251350827771'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/2331347251350827771'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2008/06/rant.html' title='Rant'/><author><name>Issa M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08965460158132807720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__SG1WqGVqVs/SPtV-Mdp6XI/AAAAAAAAAA4/esgPCv9KL8I/S220/bioweek.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8273518.post-4415691814181641308</id><published>2008-06-25T21:07:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2008-07-06T22:38:55.026+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Directionless</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Directionless&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;My wind blew far to the east with great joy in its heart&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;slowly flowing through the skies, passing by all trees.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Leaves just keep swaying bringing songs as it beats.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;But my wind grew sadder and thought it might retreat.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;My wind blew again to the south down and up the sea&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;now having a great time with all the dolphins at feast.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Waves grew bigger that brought joy to those on the sea.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Yet my wind still finds holes to its joy and so it decided to leave.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I feel sorry for my wind since it can find no true joy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Its heart full of sadness that it no longer see hope.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;The uncontrollable doubt my wind can not get rid of&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;would always find a way to ruin everything even joy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;_______&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;If there would be a certain direction that would not bring more sadness but would bring joy to anyone's heart, then i would go there - no matter how different and difficult it would be.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;" &gt;my wind&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8273518-4415691814181641308?l=tweendlines.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/feeds/4415691814181641308/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2008/06/directionless-my-wind-blew-far-to-east.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/4415691814181641308'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/4415691814181641308'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2008/06/directionless-my-wind-blew-far-to-east.html' title='Directionless'/><author><name>Issa M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08965460158132807720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__SG1WqGVqVs/SPtV-Mdp6XI/AAAAAAAAAA4/esgPCv9KL8I/S220/bioweek.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8273518.post-5937315530404899806</id><published>2008-06-23T22:04:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-23T23:00:58.316+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Questions</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Questions&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There may have been times I asked myself what love really is.&lt;br /&gt;Asked many questions regarding what might distinguish it from simply liking a person&lt;br /&gt;and what difference it does when you are in love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Through my years of being aware that love exists, I really never got to answer my questions.&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps, as I always say, I never really had the chance to fall for any person at all.&lt;br /&gt;Or maybe I did. I just did not know I was in love.&lt;br /&gt;For years I have considered my attraction to people just simply “liked" them.&lt;br /&gt;As to what I have experienced, I always grow distantly attracted little by little&lt;br /&gt;ranging from totally attracted to entirely unattached.&lt;br /&gt;My fondness barely reaches months and probably lasts just by weeks.&lt;br /&gt;It is by this I say to myself, this is not love at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, there may have been times I considered someone to be really special.&lt;br /&gt;Treated that person as someone I never wish to part from&lt;br /&gt;and played like a fool trying to straighten up things for the two of us.&lt;br /&gt;But none of them really mattered at the end.&lt;br /&gt;None exceptionally wanted my tiring heart.&lt;br /&gt;For after I voluntarily devote myself, that person would always find a way to disregard me.&lt;br /&gt;Everything I thought to be perfect was just made by my mind's eye.&lt;br /&gt;They never failed to make me feel that they really never loved me back&lt;br /&gt;and that their only purpose was to use me.&lt;br /&gt;Although they really did not tell me, I just know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After all my disappointments and heartbreaks,&lt;br /&gt;I just look back and tell myself they were not meant for me.&lt;br /&gt;And perhaps they do not deserve me or the love I will be offering.&lt;br /&gt;Maybe in time someone will just come, rightful enough to have my heart.&lt;br /&gt;And by that time, I would perhaps be able to answer my questions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8273518-5937315530404899806?l=tweendlines.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/feeds/5937315530404899806/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2008/06/there-may-have-been-times-i-asked.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/5937315530404899806'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/5937315530404899806'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2008/06/there-may-have-been-times-i-asked.html' title='Questions'/><author><name>Issa M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08965460158132807720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__SG1WqGVqVs/SPtV-Mdp6XI/AAAAAAAAAA4/esgPCv9KL8I/S220/bioweek.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8273518.post-5163726918537801882</id><published>2008-06-15T22:58:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-15T23:49:28.930+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dredge Up</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Dredge Up&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's been a long time since i remembered posting about you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;i was able to set my mind off of you for some time now&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;though you pass my mind so often&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;i just wash you off and find another else to think about&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;it is either i am now well adjusted to the situation&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;or maybe i just got so tired thinking about you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;either way it made me feel far better comfort&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;no more late night dramas and frequent hidden stares&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;waiting that you might glance back at me, think about me,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;and even maybe forgive me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;that night changed everything&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;i can now look at you without any hesitation that you might see me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;no more tears on my pillowcase that would be wasted upon thinking about you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;this does not mean i am closing my doors nor my windows for you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;i still am open for another chance&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;still hoping we'll be friends again&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;i'll just have to stop myself from going hysterical on what happened to our friendship&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;maybe one day things would get better for us.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;_______&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;you just popped into my mind. that's all.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8273518-5163726918537801882?l=tweendlines.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/feeds/5163726918537801882/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2008/06/i-remembered-you.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/5163726918537801882'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/5163726918537801882'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2008/06/i-remembered-you.html' title='Dredge Up'/><author><name>Issa M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08965460158132807720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__SG1WqGVqVs/SPtV-Mdp6XI/AAAAAAAAAA4/esgPCv9KL8I/S220/bioweek.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8273518.post-1702555360884469712</id><published>2008-05-04T20:38:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-21T22:39:36.174+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Helpless</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Helpless&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do not share the same experiences as you do and probably the sheer reality that I have never been involved in a relationship before has blinded me to the emotions you are showing me this very moment.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Every time you share me the stories about you and &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;him [edit](her?hahaha)[/edit]]&lt;/span&gt;, I think of how I would answer you or talk to you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;The exact words would never come out in my mouth and that I would stay silent trying to hear you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;As your friend, I want to help you out, tell you things that would perhaps lighten up your feelings and maybe give you some pieces of advice.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I hope you would understand.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I never experienced any of these and I remain ignorant regarding these stuffs.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;This is why you would notice me avoiding these topics because I know I can give only a little bit of help or probably none at all.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Just want you to know even though I am like this, I still care for you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I may be of no use at all but I can stay and just listen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;____________&lt;br /&gt;Don't be stupid.&lt;br /&gt;I'm talking to you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...madrama masyado...hahahaha...tuod ka man hadi..joke la..char!=P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8273518-1702555360884469712?l=tweendlines.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/feeds/1702555360884469712/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2008/05/helpless.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/1702555360884469712'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/1702555360884469712'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2008/05/helpless.html' title='Helpless'/><author><name>Issa M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08965460158132807720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__SG1WqGVqVs/SPtV-Mdp6XI/AAAAAAAAAA4/esgPCv9KL8I/S220/bioweek.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8273518.post-5990078422143615086</id><published>2008-05-02T23:07:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-05-03T00:29:27.691+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Running Away</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Running Away&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Unknowingly, I betrayed myself for posting my thoughts and feelings the other day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I could have just started the whole recovering thing without the world knowing that it happened.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;But for sure people already have read that and must have been thinking who you are.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I'd like to tell them you're just someone unreal and that I just created you with my own imagination.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;It would have been easier erasing every memory of you in me...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Well, in that case, no one would be too gullible enough to believe in that crap.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Or may be you are - just a part of my imagination.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;You’re just someone who truly exist but live in a different way.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Now you think I'm gibberish, right?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I've been nonsensical.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;You’ve been staying as cool as you are. Not knowing how I really feel.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I should have been blaming myself from the start.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;It was I who got me through this agony I am in now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;You have done nothing else but to be my friend.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I should stop right away.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: arial;"&gt;"or may be you are - just a part of my imagination."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;-Running away can be very hard especially when you know your heart will be left behind broken.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8273518-5990078422143615086?l=tweendlines.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/feeds/5990078422143615086/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2008/05/running-away.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/5990078422143615086'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/5990078422143615086'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2008/05/running-away.html' title='Running Away'/><author><name>Issa M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08965460158132807720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__SG1WqGVqVs/SPtV-Mdp6XI/AAAAAAAAAA4/esgPCv9KL8I/S220/bioweek.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8273518.post-9131710000801497785</id><published>2008-05-01T23:45:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-05-01T23:53:11.356+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Confused</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Confused&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I wonder if every thing i did was right.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I chose not to go on with the way I felt and just forget everything that had happened.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Although at some point I still argue with myself what could have happened if i had chosen pursuing my feelings and let the whole world know how i felt.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;But then it came to me that the friendship i have now with you is the best thing that i ever had and that i would never try to break.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;If in any case you feel uncomfortable about this situation, please don't even think i had used our friendship to get to you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Please don't misjudge me or hate me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I never intended any of this to happen.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Even I myself don't like the way I feel right now and that i practically want it to wash away as fast as i could.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I still want you as my friend, you know...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;____________________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;It really is true.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;The harder you fall, the lonelier you become.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8273518-9131710000801497785?l=tweendlines.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/feeds/9131710000801497785/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2008/05/confused.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/9131710000801497785'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/9131710000801497785'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2008/05/confused.html' title='Confused'/><author><name>Issa M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08965460158132807720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__SG1WqGVqVs/SPtV-Mdp6XI/AAAAAAAAAA4/esgPCv9KL8I/S220/bioweek.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8273518.post-1734765407263069111</id><published>2008-02-21T18:50:00.011+08:00</published><updated>2008-04-29T23:11:03.679+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Point of Derision</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:85%;" &gt;Point of Derision&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My expectations were not as high as a mountain&lt;br /&gt;Nor my hopes to promises that are easily broken&lt;br /&gt;To my heart that had not just once been beaten&lt;br /&gt;Believing to nothing is no more like a dream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You once spoke of a promise you’ll forever keep&lt;br /&gt;Lied to me like a famous actor in camera peek&lt;br /&gt;The words that resounded in my careless sleep&lt;br /&gt;Desert me in disappointed hopes and dreams.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I demand with utmost despair of your tainted kindness&lt;br /&gt;Why you left me lying in misery-filled iron sheds&lt;br /&gt;Cushioned all over by thorns and sharpened spears&lt;br /&gt;Why you mock me while suffering all these?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I leave my words of bitterness to you&lt;br /&gt;Indeed you left my heart superbly aching&lt;br /&gt;For once my hope is lost to someone so dear&lt;br /&gt;Then nothing could be done to make things clear.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8273518-1734765407263069111?l=tweendlines.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/feeds/1734765407263069111/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2008/02/point-of-derision.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/1734765407263069111'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/1734765407263069111'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2008/02/point-of-derision.html' title='Point of Derision'/><author><name>Issa M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08965460158132807720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__SG1WqGVqVs/SPtV-Mdp6XI/AAAAAAAAAA4/esgPCv9KL8I/S220/bioweek.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8273518.post-216756725799257677</id><published>2008-02-04T19:44:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-05-01T23:47:34.753+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Keep It Fresh</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;how long was that? about 3 or 4 years?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;im still damn soaked in mud and tears&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;still mightily trying to get up from the last time&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;and now you're back to pull me down?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;please&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;if you're leaving, then go now!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;and never come back again&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;_________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;i'll just have to save my heart for now&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;wrap it in a plastic bag and put it in the freezer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8273518-216756725799257677?l=tweendlines.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/feeds/216756725799257677/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2008/02/keep-it-fresh.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/216756725799257677'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/216756725799257677'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2008/02/keep-it-fresh.html' title='Keep It Fresh'/><author><name>Issa M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08965460158132807720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__SG1WqGVqVs/SPtV-Mdp6XI/AAAAAAAAAA4/esgPCv9KL8I/S220/bioweek.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8273518.post-8014923398520699269</id><published>2007-12-20T23:04:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-05-01T23:47:58.532+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Why?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I'm almost out of tears. I've cried for a night. I thought it was the best way to fix this. I was wrong. It broke my heart even greater, harder, and now it's totally broken. I just hope you'll forgive me in time. After what happened today, I walked home. I was thinking about what happened and then I just said to myself that it would be the last time. It was the 3rd time and it already lasted for almost a year and still counting. I've waited for so long. I don't know if I'd still be able to wait a little more. While walking, tears kept on falling from my eyes and I wasn't able to control it. What you did today was so painful.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;It's almost Christmas and I thought, before I go home this vacation, I would see you and talk to you. Hoping we can fix what was broken and become friends again. I wonder if tomorrow I wake up with the same courage as of today and still be hoping this will one day end. But if tomorrow, I wake up without that same courage and will, then I'll just let things be the way they are right now. I'll stop waiting and hoping you'll change your mind. I'll just end it with the simple sorry I sent you tonight.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;p.s. why is it that you don't want to talk to me?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8273518-8014923398520699269?l=tweendlines.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/feeds/8014923398520699269/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2007/12/why.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/8014923398520699269'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/8014923398520699269'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2007/12/why.html' title='Why?'/><author><name>Issa M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08965460158132807720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__SG1WqGVqVs/SPtV-Mdp6XI/AAAAAAAAAA4/esgPCv9KL8I/S220/bioweek.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8273518.post-8969991350075976431</id><published>2007-10-01T20:59:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-05-01T23:48:19.707+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Stick</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: arial;font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;walked home with another stick at my right hand.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;now im having a chest pain.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;gradually it will kill me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;soon my life will just pass out as if i never existed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;i'll be gone and nobody will notice.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;not even a single soul will cry.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8273518-8969991350075976431?l=tweendlines.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/feeds/8969991350075976431/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2007/10/stick.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/8969991350075976431'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/8969991350075976431'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2007/10/stick.html' title='Stick'/><author><name>Issa M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08965460158132807720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__SG1WqGVqVs/SPtV-Mdp6XI/AAAAAAAAAA4/esgPCv9KL8I/S220/bioweek.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8273518.post-2274740088830810619</id><published>2007-05-25T22:11:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-05-01T23:49:12.577+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Too sad, too lonely...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: arial;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__SG1WqGVqVs/Rlb6iS3zA1I/AAAAAAAAAAc/7N8FIKEHRjE/s1600-h/DSC05352-e.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__SG1WqGVqVs/Rlb6iS3zA1I/AAAAAAAAAAc/7N8FIKEHRjE/s200/DSC05352-e.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5068513897740436306" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: arial;font-size:85%;" &gt;Too sad, too lonely...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Ayoko magdrama ngayon but i can't help it. Sobrang lungkot ko ngayon because pagkatapos ng isang buwan mahigit, babalik na ako sa amin. Di naman na ayaw ko na umuwi pero nagkaroon na kasi ako ng friends dito sa Diliman and syempre ayokong basta-bastang iwan at kalimutan nalang sila. Kahit ang liit lang ng time na inispend ko dito parang napalapit na din ako sa kanila. I feel so sad talaga...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I went to school this afternoon para magsubmit ng paper ko, ni Yza, Angel, at ng sa groupmates ko. Ilan lang nakita ko sa mga classmates ko. I was hoping pa naman sana na makita ko ung iba lalo na ung mga kasama sa Baguio. Kahit papano naman naging close kaming sampu ng dalawang araw. After the trip di na ulit kami nagkita-kita. Ang lungkot naman kasi nung nangyari - naging close kaming sampu nung katapusan na nung summer classes namin. Ang sama talaga sa feeling.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Si Angel lang ata ung nakasama ko kanina. Though i saw Feona and Maricel there, di ko pa rin nakita ung iba. Di ko nga din nakita si Micah. Si Micah na kasi ung madalas kong nakakasama after sa class and tuwing lunch. Last ko na siyang nakita nung Monday, May 22. Kala ko makikita ko pa ulit siya ngayong araw pero di na pala. Umuwi na siya sa probinsya nila. Di ko alam when ko ulit siya makikita pati na ung iba kong classmates.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I went to SM North with Angel after naming ipass ung paper namin. Di na kasi nakarating si Yza kaya di na siya nakasama. Sobra kasi ang traffic kanina. Niyaya ko siya Pizza Hut kasi I was craving for pizza kaya nilibre ko na din siya. Naisip ko din kasi, that would be the last time I would see her. Minabuti ko nang magenjoy kanina, We talked...and talked the whole time na nandun kami. Imagine naubos namin ung pizza nung mga 7pm na eh pumunta kami dun mga past 5pm. Usap lang talaga. I hope maulit uli yun. Masaya siyang kausap and di rin mauubusan ng mapagkukwentuhan sayang nga lang talaga na wala dun si Yza.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Kawawa naman ata si Yza kanina. Siya kasi ung topic namin ni Angel. Napag-usapan namin ung nangyari dun sa Baguio nung Saturday o Sunday morning na ba yun. Gumimik kasi kaming sampu doon and nagdisco kaming dalawa ni Yza. Daming di makakalimutang pangyayari...hehehe. Dami tinanong si Angel, di kasi niya matanong yun kay Yza. Para daw kasi siyang naiilang at di niya alam kung pano din tatanungin si Yza.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Siguro mamimiss ko talaga sila lalo na parang yung nangyari dun is maaalala ko talaga. Mahirap ata kalimutan yung mga taong yun. Kahit two days lang parang ang hirap nilang kalimutan. Ganun ata talaga ako. Ayoko makakilala ng friends na hindi rin naman pala pwedeng magtagal kahit anong pilit ang gawin ko. Siguro naman kasi makakabalik na ulit ako ng Manila after ko nang makagraduate. Sa panahong iyon, siguro nakalimutan na namin ang isa't-isa 'tsaka meron na kami nung kanya-kanyang buhay. Ewan pero yun talaga tingin ko. Kahit nga sina Ate Era, Kuya Rick, at si Ate Beth mahirap talagang makalimutan pero it seems impossible na talaga na makita ko ulit sila. I hope magkaroon pa ng chance pero ang labo talaga. Hanggang pangarap nalang talaga ata un. Siguro goodbye nalang ata masasabi ko. Just move on. Balik na ulit ako sa dati kong buhay noon - noong wala pa sila at noong di ko pa sila nakakasama.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Itutulog ko na nga lang 'to.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Good night and goodbye nalang sa inyong lahat! Y-Y&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: arial;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__SG1WqGVqVs/Rlb42S3zAzI/AAAAAAAAAAM/uma0fkRBvxY/s1600-h/DSC05296-e.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__SG1WqGVqVs/Rlb42S3zAzI/AAAAAAAAAAM/uma0fkRBvxY/s200/DSC05296-e.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5068512042314564402" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8273518-2274740088830810619?l=tweendlines.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/feeds/2274740088830810619/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2007/05/too-sad-too-lonely.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/2274740088830810619'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/2274740088830810619'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2007/05/too-sad-too-lonely.html' title='Too sad, too lonely...'/><author><name>Issa M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08965460158132807720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__SG1WqGVqVs/SPtV-Mdp6XI/AAAAAAAAAA4/esgPCv9KL8I/S220/bioweek.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__SG1WqGVqVs/Rlb6iS3zA1I/AAAAAAAAAAc/7N8FIKEHRjE/s72-c/DSC05352-e.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8273518.post-446139692113985241</id><published>2007-05-07T20:15:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-05-01T23:49:30.090+08:00</updated><title type='text'>QC</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;goodness!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I feel so damn bored!not just that im bored, im totally sad. I feel alone and been thinking bout going home to Borongan. I'm in Quezon City right now, Diliman to be exact. It's been a month since I arrived here and spent my summer in a place where I know no one. Although I got to meet new people and spent some of my vacant times with new friends, I still feel that I'm not enjoying my stay here. I go out and try to have fun. I even go out at night and stay outside until the sun starts to show up. I think I just miss my other friends in Tacloban and in Borongan. Anyway, i'll be going home in two weeks but before i go home, I have a field trip in my Kas2. We'll be going to Baguio. Yahoo!hehehe&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;'til here guys! I'll be posting more next time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8273518-446139692113985241?l=tweendlines.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/feeds/446139692113985241/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2007/05/qc.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/446139692113985241'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/446139692113985241'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2007/05/qc.html' title='QC'/><author><name>Issa M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08965460158132807720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__SG1WqGVqVs/SPtV-Mdp6XI/AAAAAAAAAA4/esgPCv9KL8I/S220/bioweek.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8273518.post-3550456552518964635</id><published>2007-03-25T16:10:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-03-26T00:15:15.925+08:00</updated><title type='text'>taah daaah!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;taah daaah!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Now's already year 2007 and my last post still dated 2006. Ang kapal naman ng mukha ko. Siguro napansin nyo ung nasa upper-right corner ng blog ko. I joined Candy Mag's Teen Blog Awards 2007 kahit di na ako nag-uupdate ng blog. Nakakatawa naman.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Guys, ive been out for so long and i dont want to miss anymore events here in the blog-o-sphere. Yun nga lang, the week after next, i'll be going back to my hometown and I think I wont have time to update my blog. Siguro makakapag-update na ako a week after Holy Week when im already in Manila. I'll be taking up advance subjects this summer in U.P. Diliman. I'll be posting more often then para naman iupdate ko kayo sa mga kabaliwang gagawin ko ngayong summer in Manila.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Well, I'm busy with schoolwork right now. Ngayon pang matatapos na ang semester. I'll be a third year student soon. Busy sa exams and pati sa play namin sa school. I'm in-charge with the sounds and lights pati na rin sa props kaya medyo di ko pa nafifeel ang summer. I'd like to enjoy a lil bit before ako pumunta ng Manila. Mahirap na, baka di ako makapagenjoy doon. Surely I'll miss the beach. Ang layo naman kasi ng beach doon eh. Mahilig pa naman akong maligo sa dagat. Di kumpleto summer ko pag di ako makaligo ng dagat. Haaaayyyy....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Election's near. Ang dami na namang pandaraya ang magaganap at lalaki na naman ang bilang ng mga krimeng konektado sa election. I received an email this morning, nakalagay doon ang opinion ng isang guy on this coming election. He said he's going to consider leaving the Philippines if these 7 events would happen:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"  &gt;1.) If former COMELEC Commissioner Virgilio Garcillano of Hello        Garci fame wins in his bid to become Congressman of Bukidnon...seeking to        replace a good man no less in incumbent Cong. Neric Acosta... We would        really be the laughing stock of the whole world if we allow a man with the        reputation of Garci to be one of our so called "Honorable Gentlemen".        &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"  &gt;2.) If Dancing Queen Tessie Aquino Oreta        reclaims her seat at the Senate... I hope that all of us would still        remember that dance that she did during the 2001 impeachment hearings        after they voted to overrule the decision of then Chief Justice Davide...        let us make sure that people like her never make it to the Senate again.        &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"  &gt;3.) If Richard Gomez becomes a        senator... what does he know about making laws? We already have the likes        of Bong Revilla and Lito Lapid in the Senate and their performance or lack        of it would be reason enough not to elect another actor who has no prior        experience in government to the distinguished halls of the Senate.        &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"  &gt;4.) If Gringo Honasan wins again....        have we not learned our lesson? I cannot believe that just because someone        is charismatic then we will just elect him to become one of our senators        despite the fact that he has time and again caused so much instability in        our country... if we want a military junta similar to that of Thailand ...        then lets all vote for this guy.... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"  &gt;5.) If Manny        Pacquiao becomes Congressman of General Santos City... everybody loves        Manny the Boxing Champ but Manny the Lawmaker? Lets be realistic here,        Manny is our Hero alright but I think it takes more than just great boxing        skills and a desire to serve to be able to make appropriate laws that        would help uplift the lives of the many Filipinos who live in Poverty.        &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"  &gt;6.) If Lito Lapid wins for Mayor of        Makati City... I don't like Jojo Binay as well but Lito Lapid as city        mayor of the country's finance and business center?!?! And do you really        think he is from Makati and has good plans for the city? The Arroyos        asking someone like him to run just goes to show you how much love and        concern this government has for our country. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;7.) If Chavit Singson becomes a Senator, Illegal Gambling =        Chavit... enough said.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"  &gt;Well, what do you think? For me, i think all the things he said make sense. It is up to you guys if you would believe him. It's just his opinion.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"  &gt;Anyway, I'll be leaving now. I think this post is enough to cover for my three months leave. hehehe:)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"  &gt;Ciao!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8273518-3550456552518964635?l=tweendlines.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/3550456552518964635'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/3550456552518964635'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2007/03/taah-daaah.html' title='taah daaah!'/><author><name>Issa M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08965460158132807720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__SG1WqGVqVs/SPtV-Mdp6XI/AAAAAAAAAA4/esgPCv9KL8I/S220/bioweek.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8273518.post-116602158059880885</id><published>2006-12-13T22:23:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-05-25T23:12:59.191+08:00</updated><title type='text'>News</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;NEWS&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Headline:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;BAGYO (Signal No.3)&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dinaanan po kami ng isang malakas na bagyo. Magkahalong malakas na ulan at hangin ang humagupit sa probinsya ng samar at leyte. Halos umabot ng 50 na poste ng kuryente ang natumba sa Borongan, capital ng eastern samar, pati na dito sa Tacloban. Ito ay nagbunga ng malawakang brownout sa lungsod at sinasabing magtatagal ng isang buwan. (Isn't it unfair??) Napakaraming mamamayan ang nagrereklamo sa pangyayaring ito. Sana naman ay mapadali ang pag-aayos ng mga sirang poste upang maibalik na ang kuryente. Napakalungkot naman ng pasko kung walang krismas tri na may krismas lights. Diba? Ito rin ang dahilan kung bakit ngayon lang ulit ako nakapagupdate ng blog ko. Pasensya na.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;d'HAIR&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Napakarami po ng nagbago sa loob ng isang buwan. Isa na po rito ay ang aking buhok. Ewan ko po kung anong pumasok sa ulo ko at nagpagupit po ako. Hindi lang po iyon. Ako po ngayon ay me bangs na. Hindi pa po ako nagkaroon ng bangs simula nung grade 2 ako kaya naman nakakailang. Sana naman po ay magustuhan ninyo ang pagbabago. Ipopost ko po ang picture ko dito. Bahala na po kayong magbigay ng kumento sa kung ano ang inyong saloobin sa pagbabagong ito.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sana po ay di ninyo makalimutang magbigay ng kumento.&lt;br /&gt;Maraming Salamat! Iyon lang po sa ngayon. =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Maligayang Pasko sa inyong lahat!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8273518-116602158059880885?l=tweendlines.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/feeds/116602158059880885/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2006/12/news.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/116602158059880885'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/116602158059880885'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2006/12/news.html' title='News'/><author><name>Issa M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08965460158132807720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__SG1WqGVqVs/SPtV-Mdp6XI/AAAAAAAAAA4/esgPCv9KL8I/S220/bioweek.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8273518.post-116324978052818202</id><published>2006-11-11T18:28:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-12T00:35:18.876+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Paulo Coelho</title><content type='html'>BY THE RIVER PIEDRA, I SAT DOWN AND WEPT&lt;br /&gt;by Paulo Coelho&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.longitudebooks.com/images/book_large/FRN221.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 100px; height: 153px;" src="http://www.longitudebooks.com/images/book_large/FRN221.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Spent the day reading this book, "By The River Piedra I Sat Down And Wept" by Paulo Coelho. I was able to finish it this afternoon since there was no electricity. The book is about two young lovers that reunited after eleven years. They both had changed greatly. Pilar transformed into a strong and independent woman while, the guy had grown into a charismatic spiritual leader. Now this guy is confused between his love for Pilar and his religion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After I finished the book, I took my laundries and went to check the washing machine. Got loco when the machine woudnt work. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had tons of unwashed clothes and I also have nothing to wear on Monday. My cousin told me to wash them manually. I tried. After three shirts, my hands were in pain and i thought i cant finish my laundries. I stopped. Hang the three shirts i've washed and went to my room. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was the first time i tried hand washing. Maybe I do wash my undies and hankies with my bare hands but it was my first time to wash my clothes. Now I remember the days when my mom tried to teach me how to wash my own clothes but always ignore her. I did try to but just one or two shirts and after that, i quit. I'm not used to do laundries on my own. My mom would hire someone else to do the laundries. Now that im in a place far from home, im having a hard time thinking what will i do to finish my laundries. Whhoow. I think i need to learn how to wash with my bare hands and get used to it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;_________________________________________________&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CLASSES ENDED?!:P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Classes should have started last Thrusday but teachers were damn so lazy to go to their respective classrooms. I have a class at 7:00 am and went there before the time. It was really early yet my classmates were already there when i arrive. The sad thing is, our teacher didnt attend the class so we were left waiting in that boring laboratory til the bell finally rang. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the way to the CR, we saw our prof at the faculty room and just told us that she didnt know that she should be handling the class early that morning. I really think its not right to keep us waiting. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then yesterday, we didnt had classes because Sen. Pangilinan arrived at our school for an Inauguration Ceremony. I went to school in the afternoon and then received a text from my "crush", inviting me (and our other friends) to watch a movie at our friend's place. We only watched a single movie, "Memoirs of a Geisha", since it was already late and most of them has plans for the night. One of my friends invited me to join them that night but i declined. I just went home and spent the night with my cousins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;_________________________________________________&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That would be all. I'm busy making an overlay for my friendster profile right now. I dont know how but id like to learn. Ciao! :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8273518-116324978052818202?l=tweendlines.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/feeds/116324978052818202/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2006/11/paulo-coelho.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/116324978052818202'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/116324978052818202'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2006/11/paulo-coelho.html' title='Paulo Coelho'/><author><name>Issa M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08965460158132807720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__SG1WqGVqVs/SPtV-Mdp6XI/AAAAAAAAAA4/esgPCv9KL8I/S220/bioweek.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8273518.post-116296782941774406</id><published>2006-11-08T12:19:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-08T16:13:58.080+08:00</updated><title type='text'>After The Break</title><content type='html'>A THING FROM MY PAST...A MEMORY&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After so many days of being absent from blogging, here I am again typing my wierd thoughts on my computer. Just imagine, my dear, months have passed yet not a single post was made from me and it fells so bad not being able to - believe me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, after a few months break, i thought that it would be nice if i change my layout. So, this morning, i made a new layout using a picture that I took from my field trip last semester. It is actually a beach with a swing on the side. The water was so calm making the island seem so near. Well, I'll let you guys be the judge. Tell me what you think about it. Dont worry, i wont bite you if you wont like it. :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--**_**--**_**--**_**--**_**--**_**--**_**--**_**--**_**--**_**--&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TROUBLES AHEAD!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things just dont happen for no reason. Right? Somehow they are bound for a purpose. Lets just say that my mind got a little preoccupied these past few days. Filled up with things that i dont understand. I've been constantly visited by dreams that doesnt seem to mean anything. Maybe they do have a meaning, i just dont understand them at all. Others say that dreams show us or tell us or even warn us on things that are about to happen. That's why I keep on wondering what's mine mean. What is actually freaky is that i still remember most parts of my dreams that is isnt usual for everyone. Normally, people wont remember anything from their dreams except for faded scenes from it. Damn! Whatever my dreams mean, I need to know and fast.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8273518-116296782941774406?l=tweendlines.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/feeds/116296782941774406/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2006/11/after-break.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/116296782941774406'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/116296782941774406'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2006/11/after-break.html' title='After The Break'/><author><name>Issa M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08965460158132807720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__SG1WqGVqVs/SPtV-Mdp6XI/AAAAAAAAAA4/esgPCv9KL8I/S220/bioweek.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8273518.post-115409264710297449</id><published>2006-07-28T20:18:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-08T16:11:01.373+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Calendar Break</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;[busy]&lt;/span&gt;i wasn't really onto blogging right now. it's been more than a month since i last updated my blog. there are alot of things more important for me than blogging right now. alot of changes happened since the last post i had. now i dont know how to start my new post that will sum up all the things happened to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[grief]&lt;/span&gt;i dont know what to do. it was july 3. it was the first time i woke up without a father. my dad past away the night before. i cant describe the way i felt that day. it was as if my mind was blocked and i just found myself staring blankly into thin air. now, my life is different. my ever supportive &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;tatay&lt;/span&gt; is not around anymore. though i know that he's somewhere there watching over me, i'll still be missing him badly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;[birthday]&lt;/span&gt;i had my 17th birthday last wednesday. it wasnt so great. it was the first time that i celebrated it without my father. and yeah, one more reason is because i had an exam than afternoon and i failed to pass it. i wasnt so lucky enough to make it to the cut off. but that same afternoon, the cheque i deposited last month (which was submitted for clearing for a month since the cheque was from n.y.) has now registered on my account. as i check my atm, i found out that my account balance was already more than a hundred thousand. ive been waiting for that money. it was my scholarship money from STARR Foundation in New York. im so lucky to be accepted. it's a big help.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;[end]&lt;/span&gt;i'll stop it here. it's a bit late and i still have to do my laundries. im not sure when i can update my blog again. be back SOON!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8273518-115409264710297449?l=tweendlines.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/feeds/115409264710297449/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2006/07/calendar-break.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/115409264710297449'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/115409264710297449'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2006/07/calendar-break.html' title='Calendar Break'/><author><name>Issa M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08965460158132807720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__SG1WqGVqVs/SPtV-Mdp6XI/AAAAAAAAAA4/esgPCv9KL8I/S220/bioweek.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8273518.post-115005050371091874</id><published>2006-06-12T00:58:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-08T16:10:24.313+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Miss A Lot of Things</title><content type='html'>missing borongan&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i planned the whole weekend weeks before last week but nothing came out the way i wanted it to be. i went here to tacloban last monday due to an emergency. Though it wasnt so urgent, my mom kept on using the word, emergency. Since that day, nothing really happened the way i planned it. i wanted to go home to borongan but i wasnt able to. i just wanted to spend the rest of the summer in my hometown. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;though i can do all the things i do there here, still the feeling wouldn't be the same. even though borongan is a boring place and has no signs yet of urbanization, it still has its own beauty that i  miss so much everytime im here in tacloban. i miss the sound of the waves breaking as it reaches the bank every night before i go to sleep, the fresh air i breathe every morning when i wake up and the beautiful sunshine that makes my day so wonderful. borongan is far from tacloban or any other cities. you cant hear noise from the street after midnight and the air you breathe is so fresh. it's really a wonderful place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;now i cant go back there. i have no time. classes starts on tuesday and i still have alot of things to do. i hope i can go back there as soon as possible. i'll really miss that place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;damned week?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;at last!i passed my comm2 exit test. received my grade from mr. de guzman last wednesday and i got 2.0! haha.it's already a high grade if you're in our school and if you're under sir jing.haha..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i went window shopping last friday afternoon with my nieces, Sheila Lynn and Lyndel. we went to different stores just to find a new school shoes for lyndel. i really hate it, got my self feeling jealous bout them wearing uniforms. i missed my high school days when i was still wearing my school uniform. now, i just wear whatever clothes i have and what's available. that's ok, only there is a problem, every morning i get up and ask myself what to wear. my pants fade alot faster so i spend more money buying new ones. plus, i get tons of clothes to wash every weekend. but anyway, i still love that university.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by the way, i think i saw &lt;b&gt;belle&lt;/b&gt; in gaisano while i was paying for the slippers i bought. i saw her at the cashier but i wasnt sure it was her. she was with her mom and she was wearing her school pants (rtrmf). thought it was her from her pictures in friendster. i leaved her a tag last night asking if it was her that i saw. hehe di naman ganon ka laki ang tacloban para impossible kaming magkita. right? bwahaha =P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;after in gaisano, i went to dickies to buy the bag i saw from their window. it was beautiful. sling bag xa kaya lang malaki but i still bought it. ok lang naman ung size if im the one wearing it.hehehe propotion lang naman coz im also a big person. wahahaha :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mahaba-haba na rin 'to ah!i think i'll just stop here. ung iba, sa akin nalang un or i'll just post it next time. bhubye! :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8273518-115005050371091874?l=tweendlines.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/feeds/115005050371091874/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2006/06/miss-lot-of-things.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/115005050371091874'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/115005050371091874'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2006/06/miss-lot-of-things.html' title='Miss A Lot of Things'/><author><name>Issa M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08965460158132807720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__SG1WqGVqVs/SPtV-Mdp6XI/AAAAAAAAAA4/esgPCv9KL8I/S220/bioweek.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8273518.post-114901224226669815</id><published>2006-05-31T01:37:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-08T16:08:27.810+08:00</updated><title type='text'>New Friends</title><content type='html'>hahay...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's already dawn but i still cant sleep. i feel so tired. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i went out last night with friends coz julius is already leaving for manila today. while we were walking, someone called from our back. both of them does look familiar but from their question, i concluded that they're not from here. they asked us if we can tell them where &lt;i&gt;pantalan&lt;/i&gt; is. i told them that it was far but we're on our way there so they can come with us. the guy was very familiar so i asked them where they came from. he said they were from samar(a.k.a western samar). and just after he said that, julius finally said something. he asked him if he's Jireh and the guy said yes. So he's &lt;b&gt;Jireh&lt;/b&gt;, i also know him, just his name. I know him coz he always join regional contests and my classmates know him. He was with her friend, &lt;b&gt;Verna&lt;/b&gt;. They were visiting borongan and are staying at Jireh's aunt. They were with us til we went home. It's good to meet new people especially when it was just accidental. =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;btw, my sister visited my blog again!i hate her!i already told her that she should not visit my blog but she's still doing it. i dont know how i can stop her. the only way i can think of is to change my URL but it's really hard changing urls coz it makes people get lost. i really dont know what i should do!!!huhuhu&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8273518-114901224226669815?l=tweendlines.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/feeds/114901224226669815/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2006/05/new-friends.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/114901224226669815'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/114901224226669815'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2006/05/new-friends.html' title='New Friends'/><author><name>Issa M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08965460158132807720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__SG1WqGVqVs/SPtV-Mdp6XI/AAAAAAAAAA4/esgPCv9KL8I/S220/bioweek.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8273518.post-114879012637949718</id><published>2006-05-28T10:32:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-08T16:07:48.423+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Damn! Good Luck!</title><content type='html'>wheeee!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;got pissed off when my sister told me that the computer wasnt functioning the night before yesterday. i wasnt able to sleep early that evening so i took my guitar and went to the rooftop. i stayed there of an hour and went to my room to sleep but i wasnt able to. so, again, i went to the basement and watched tv. i went upstairs past one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yesterday, i got up past eight to attend my driving lessons but i wasnt able to go there. my sister and i went to the computer shop along with our CPU. we waited there til it was fixed and then they said that the problem was on the switching power source so they installed a new one. we went home before lunch time and connected the CPU. damn!a blue screen appeared. i then went to the shop, again, and asked them what happened. they tried to open it but that blue screen kept on appearing. they opened the CPU and changed the memory card but nothing happened. they said that they'll reformat it to find out if the problem was on the hard disk and told me that they'll charge me 400 for that. i told them (meant it as a joke) that i have no money so they made it 200. i said that it was still too high and that i'll be the one to reformat it if they'll just lend me the OS installer since i already have the motherboard installer. god!they were so good!they said that they'll be the one to reformat it for free!hehehehe..galing ah! =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i went home to eat lunch and went to the cafe to check my mails. i stayed for more than an hour and went home coz my sis texted me. we attended our driving lessons and went to the shop. there was still a problem. the processor was over-heating and the fan should be replaced with a new one. i then went home to get money and went back to get my CPU. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was already past six in the evening when i arrived home and installed the drivers.  after the graphics has been installed, i installed my modem so i can connect to the internet. as i was downloading other installers, someone called at the gate so i opened it. it was my friends. mga lasing nga eh! nag-inuman kasi sila. tinext nila ko so i can go there but i didnt go coz i want to fix my computer (my sis would kill me if i wont). they stayed here til past eleven and went to the alumni in pilot(elementary school). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;syempre, mawawala ba naman ang pictures?!&lt;br /&gt;hehehehe..tahhdahhh!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://usera.imagecave.com/krizahn/S1010021.JPG"&gt;&lt;img src="http://usera.imagecave.com/krizahn/S1010021.JPG" width="40%" length="40%"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://usera.imagecave.com/krizahn/S1010003.JPG"&gt;  &lt;img src="http://usera.imagecave.com/krizahn/S1010003.JPG" width="40%" length="40%"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://usera.imagecave.com/krizahn/S1010019.JPG"&gt;&lt;img src="http://usera.imagecave.com/krizahn/S1010019.JPG" width="40%" length="40%"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;a href="http://usera.imagecave.com/krizahn/S1010006.JPG"&gt;&lt;img src="http://usera.imagecave.com/krizahn/S1010006.JPG" width="40%" length="40%"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://usera.imagecave.com/krizahn/S1010016.JPG"&gt;&lt;img src="http://usera.imagecave.com/krizahn/S1010016.JPG" width="40%" length="40%"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;a href="http://usera.imagecave.com/krizahn/S1010008.JPG"&gt;&lt;img src="http://usera.imagecave.com/krizahn/S1010008.JPG" width="40%" length="40%"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://usera.imagecave.com/krizahn/S1010015.JPG"&gt;&lt;img src="http://usera.imagecave.com/krizahn/S1010015.JPG" width="40%" length="40%"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;a href="http://usera.imagecave.com/krizahn/S1010014.JPG"&gt;&lt;img src="http://usera.imagecave.com/krizahn/S1010014.JPG" width="40%" length="40%"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://usera.imagecave.com/krizahn/S1010012.JPG"&gt;&lt;img src="http://usera.imagecave.com/krizahn/S1010012.JPG" width="40%" length="40%"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it was a request that i post the pictures here...&lt;br /&gt;that's all folks! =)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8273518-114879012637949718?l=tweendlines.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/feeds/114879012637949718/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2006/05/damn-good-luck.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/114879012637949718'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/114879012637949718'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2006/05/damn-good-luck.html' title='Damn! Good Luck!'/><author><name>Issa M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08965460158132807720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__SG1WqGVqVs/SPtV-Mdp6XI/AAAAAAAAAA4/esgPCv9KL8I/S220/bioweek.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8273518.post-114841177819355321</id><published>2006-05-24T02:40:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-08T16:07:09.206+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bitchy Night</title><content type='html'>pasaway!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;went out kanina. nagmotor lang po kasi iniwan ni ate dorie motor niya. i went to my former school kasi hinanap ko si Sir Dean. isasauli ko kasi yung book na hiniram ko noon. pumunta pa ako sa bahay nila, but he wasnt there, sabi nung bata, he's in Davao. Grabe, ang layo nung bahay nila tapos wala lang pla!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;on my way home, dinaanan ko yung plane ticket ng ate ko. Babalik na kasi siya sa Manila next week. yehey!wala nang magulo sa bahay! ako nalang dito. hanggang june pa naman kasi ako. enrollment kasi namin is june 8. ang saya!hehehe♥&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nga pla, nagstroll ako kanina and i saw kim. yung nagcomment sa last post ko. di ako sure kung siya un kasi nagkasalubong lang motor namin eh. kaya ginawa ko, bumalik ako at sinundan sila.hehehhe... di ko kilala ung batang un. sa friendster lang connection namin. Ang alam ko lang din, kapatid siya ni ate kristine barredo na classmate ng ate ko nung high school. Nagsend kasi ako sa kanya ng message sa friendster nung nabasa ko comment niya kaya naman tuloy pa rin usapan namin sa friendster. And yeah, siya nga ung nakita ko nung nagmomotor ako. nakita  kasi din niya ako nung nagkasalubong ulit kami.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;umalis ako ngaung gabi with my friends and nadala ko na  ung dcam ni ate yvonne. grabe ung mga taong un!nag-aagawan sa camera. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;Presenting, THE CAM WHORES:&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;i&gt;l-r:julius,marianne,jelyn,michael,&amp;rosemae&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/8190/552/1600/S1010023.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/8190/552/200/S1010023.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nag-aagawan...sa cam or sa fone?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/8190/552/1600/S1010039.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/8190/552/200/S1010039.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sleepy?nah, masakit lang ulo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/8190/552/1600/S1010034.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/8190/552/200/S1010034.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;julius yves dulfo bagacay&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/8190/552/1600/S1010041.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/8190/552/200/S1010041.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;marianne coles garcia&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/8190/552/1600/S1010012.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/8190/552/200/S1010012.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;di naman lang nagsabi!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/8190/552/1600/S1010046.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/8190/552/200/S1010046.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;baliktarin man ang mundo...hahaha..nvm!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/8190/552/1600/S1010035.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/8190/552/200/S1010035.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ganda ng mga smiles!pwede na sa close up commercial. =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/8190/552/1600/S1010040.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/8190/552/200/S1010040.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;un lang po un. salamat! =)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8273518-114841177819355321?l=tweendlines.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/feeds/114841177819355321/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2006/05/bitchy-night.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/114841177819355321'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/114841177819355321'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2006/05/bitchy-night.html' title='Bitchy Night'/><author><name>Issa M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08965460158132807720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__SG1WqGVqVs/SPtV-Mdp6XI/AAAAAAAAAA4/esgPCv9KL8I/S220/bioweek.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8273518.post-114796832616272168</id><published>2006-05-18T22:38:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-08T16:06:34.543+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Insecurities Can Kill You</title><content type='html'>ayoko na!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i went out with my classmates this evening. Aalis na kasi ung isa naming classmate papuntang Manila kaya naman nagkita-kita kami. Maglalakad lang sana kami kaso dumaan yung van ng classmate namin kaya naman nakisakay kami papuntang seawall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nung dumating kami doon,naghanap kami ng pwestong pwedeng upuan. Doon kami tumambay sa tabi ng mga tables. Ang dami kasi ng tao kaya ala mahanap na matino. Yung may-ari pala nung pwestong yun ay mga estudyante sa st.mary's noon. Sabi yun ni cha coz ung  ex niya nandun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw Aien na dumating. She saw me din kahit madilim kaya tinawag niya ko. First time yun na nagkausap kami ng harapan since i was grade 6 (except nung ininvite niya ako nung debut niya). Syempre, the usual kumustahan lang. aLa naman kaming mapapag-usapan kasi di naman kami gaanong close. Sometimes napapaisip nga tuloy ako kung sana nagpatuloy nalang friendship namin tulad nung elementary pa ako, yung di pa ako nag-aalangan sa kanya, hindi na sana ako naiilang sa kanya ngayon. weird...bakit ba ako maiilang?ewan. [edit]&lt;s&gt;&lt;font color=#c7b299&gt;siguro kasi ibang-iba ung world na ginagalawan niya sa ginagalawan ko. mine is just simple while ung kanya, hmm, idunno pero iba sakin. &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/s&gt;[/edit]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[edit]&lt;s&gt;&lt;font color=#c7b299&gt;Maybe this is just bcoz of &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;my insecurities&lt;/span&gt;. Im always afraid na hindi ako tatanggapin ng taong yun. Worried that that person would not like me for who i am o di kaya dahil sa ang pangit ko or ang taba ko. Kahit pa man nung bata pa ko, nanjan na yung takot na yan. Kaya naman siguro, hindi ako natutong magtiwala sa iba. Sa bagay, how can i trust them na kahit nga sarili ko di ko pinagkakatiwalaan. There's always &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;doubt&lt;/span&gt; in me. Sa tuwing may gagawin ako, there's always that question na &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;"what if?"&lt;/span&gt;. di yun nawawala. never in my life na nagtiwala ako sa iba. kahit nga family ko, i still doubt their love for me. &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;ewan!&lt;/span&gt; i know na mali pero di ko maiwasan. sinubukan ko na minsang magtiwala pero hindi ko pa rin nagawa. bahala na.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/s&gt;[/edit]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;bout Aien pla, i want her to be my friend, yung hindi ako maiilang, coz i know na mabait siyang tao. [edit]&lt;s&gt;&lt;font color=#c7b299&gt;pero un nga, takot ako. takot akong mapagtawanan at maisulto. sawa na ako sa ganon. i hate the feeling of &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;being rejected&lt;/span&gt;. ayoko na. my life has been like this since nagkaisip ako.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/s&gt;[/edit] &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;ayoko na, ayoko na!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8273518-114796832616272168?l=tweendlines.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/feeds/114796832616272168/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2006/05/insecurities-can-kill-you.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/114796832616272168'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/114796832616272168'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2006/05/insecurities-can-kill-you.html' title='Insecurities Can Kill You'/><author><name>Issa M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08965460158132807720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__SG1WqGVqVs/SPtV-Mdp6XI/AAAAAAAAAA4/esgPCv9KL8I/S220/bioweek.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8273518.post-114778335892441616</id><published>2006-05-16T20:31:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-08T16:05:43.583+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Needles Play</title><content type='html'>shit!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;got pissed off by this "&lt;b&gt;HUMBLE&lt;/b&gt;" visitor who signed my tagboard. how dare he/she say that his/her work is better than mine when (s)he didnt even leave a link that i could visit to prove his statement! i made it clear to everyone that im just a new user of photoshop that's why my work is not that good compared to others. but it's still not proper to make such comments especially when you dont even know the person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;here's for &lt;b&gt;YOU&lt;/b&gt;, stupid! thanks to cbox &lt;b&gt;i got your IP. &lt;i&gt;i already banned it so dont you dare try to do that again!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;basta bahala na! kung mangyari pa 'to, binalaan na kita, i love playing with needles and di ako mag-aalangan gamitin yun sayo. if you get what i mean...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;til here, nanonood pa ako ng majika.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8273518-114778335892441616?l=tweendlines.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/feeds/114778335892441616/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2006/05/needles-play.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/114778335892441616'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/114778335892441616'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2006/05/needles-play.html' title='Needles Play'/><author><name>Issa M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08965460158132807720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__SG1WqGVqVs/SPtV-Mdp6XI/AAAAAAAAAA4/esgPCv9KL8I/S220/bioweek.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8273518.post-114762736492686190</id><published>2006-05-15T01:05:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-30T23:14:55.339+08:00</updated><title type='text'>When Watching Isn't Enough</title><content type='html'>yehey!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ive just finished downloading the songs from the movie, &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;"If Only"&lt;/span&gt;, and im playing it right now. god, i love that movie!though ive watched it a thousand times, i still get that "&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;kilig&lt;/span&gt;" feeling after watching it. i watched it kanina sa Star Movies kaya i remembered to download that two songs JLH sang. the songs were: &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Love Will Show You Everything&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Take My Heart Back&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;kakakilig talaga..hay, inggit tuloy ako. hehehe. sana mangyari din sa kin ung part ung graduation ni samantha. ako daw siya, nagplay ng violin sa isang orchestra and sinurprise daw ako nung boyfriend ko at pinakanta sa'kin ung song na gawa ko infront of  so many people...tsktsk..nangangarap ng gising!!!hahaha pero wala namang masamang mangarap ah!sige continue...hehehehehe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;well anyway, here's the video from the movie&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="280" height="230"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/8WwpxzRZNLM"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/8WwpxzRZNLM" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="280" height="230"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;enjoy! :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;btw,i have one favorite line there...that line of Ian in the second day before they enter the cab infront of the Tantra Restaurant...hehehe..here it is:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;"I love you. I wanna to tell you why I love you. I have to tell you this and you need to hear it.&lt;br /&gt;I loved you since I met you but I would'nt allow myself to truly feel it until today&lt;br /&gt;I was always thinking ahead, making decision so i fear. Today, because of you, what I learned from you, every choice I made was different, and my life has completely changed. And I have learned, if you do that then you live your life fully. It doesn't matter if you have five minutes or fifty years... Samantha, if not for today, if not for you, I would never have known love at all... So thank you for being the person who taught me to love and to be loved" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;..that line was so touching.&lt;br /&gt;but am kinda sleepy now so i think that's all for today. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8273518-114762736492686190?l=tweendlines.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/feeds/114762736492686190/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2006/05/movie-freak.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/114762736492686190'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/114762736492686190'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2006/05/movie-freak.html' title='When Watching Isn&apos;t Enough'/><author><name>Issa M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08965460158132807720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__SG1WqGVqVs/SPtV-Mdp6XI/AAAAAAAAAA4/esgPCv9KL8I/S220/bioweek.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8273518.post-114719426385393376</id><published>2006-05-09T23:34:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-30T22:57:38.989+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Night Out</title><content type='html'>i thought...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i spoiled the whole morning,sleeping. woke up past ten and noticed my sis looking at me as if she was going to eat me. she always tell me every morning that i should stop sleeping late and start waking up early. so i got up and went downstairs. i faced the mirror near the kitchen and scratched my head with my hand as a sign of annoyance as i saw her approaching. she made a slight move towards the kitchen and said after gaining back her balance that i should mop the kitchen floor. i declined to what she said and told her that i already mopped it the day before. She then pushed me and said it was mother who wants me to mop it again. quickly, i managed to go through her to the CR.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;as i was washing my face, i got my mind running and thought of the answers why i resist to get up early every morning. some of my lame excuses just popped up my head. &lt;b&gt;i am just so dumb to get up early and too lazy to make my daily chores&lt;/b&gt;. that's all the best i can think of. so what i did was go to the kitchen and took the mop from the sink and start mopping. i finished it faster than yesterday so i got the time to go back to my room and lay on my bed with exhaustion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;after some time, i went downstairs and opened the monitor of my computer. i checked out some of my mails and visited my blog for no reason. just as i was turning the computer off, my sis called me and told me that it was time for lunch. i went directly to the kitchen to check out the food mother prepared for us. after the eating, i collected the plates we used and washed them(it was my turn to wash). again, i went directly to my room after i finished washing. i sleeped the whole afternoon and thought my day would end just like that. sooooo boring. it's always the same everyday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i opened my phone as i was sitting down to watch the tv and saw there was a message from &lt;b&gt;charisse&lt;/b&gt;&lt;i&gt;(my classmate in high school)&lt;/i&gt;. i thought it was her regular text, GOOD AFTERNOON. but it wasnt. here's how it goes:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span &gt;&lt;i&gt;oi, kadi kam yana ha munisipyo kirigta kita, pagabi, sagot ni &lt;b&gt;marianne&lt;/b&gt;..iya in celebration han iya bday! dalia na!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i wont translate it. or should i say, &lt;b&gt;i cant&lt;/b&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i went to meet them and was so happy to see them all. not all of my hyskul classmates were present coz many of them have summer classes. we stayed infront of the municipal building for quite some time and decided to go to the seawall. we just walked and talked about the latest news and chikas of everyone til we finally arrived there. we arranged some tables and ate pizza, some barbeque and &lt;i&gt;pusso&lt;/i&gt;. we talked alot. it was really obvious that everyone was looking at us, we were soooo noisy. everyone was talking. &lt;b&gt;julius&lt;/b&gt; was even shouting. &lt;b&gt;hanzelle&lt;/b&gt; and &lt;b&gt;tope&lt;/b&gt;, too. i heared &lt;b&gt;jesse&lt;/b&gt; said that nothing has changed. everyone was still the same. it's true, nothing has changed YET!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;im so happy to see everyone talking and telling stories about their own experiences, how they cope with their lives in manila, cebu, or wherever they go. it seemed that everyone was contented of their life now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i forgot who suggested we go to pantalan but we went their. again, we just walked. it was kinda far but didnt noticed it coz we were all busy talking.hehehe when we arrived there, &lt;b&gt;amiel&lt;/b&gt; saw a &lt;b&gt;firefly&lt;/b&gt; and tried to catch it. i like seeing fireflies at night so amiel and i went near the bushes to find other fireflies and put it on a container. it was so nice to see many fireflies in the container glowing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;julius, hanzelle, &lt;b&gt;jelyn&lt;/b&gt;, tope, and cha played &lt;i&gt;patentero&lt;/i&gt;(a game we used to play when we were still in elem and hs). we enjoyed watching them running from one base to another(whatever you call it). after the game, they joined us and were still hyper. we continued our talk for an hour and decided to walk home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it ended so fast but it's still the best thing i did this summer.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8273518-114719426385393376?l=tweendlines.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/feeds/114719426385393376/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2006/05/finally-got-out.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/114719426385393376'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/114719426385393376'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2006/05/finally-got-out.html' title='Night Out'/><author><name>Issa M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08965460158132807720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__SG1WqGVqVs/SPtV-Mdp6XI/AAAAAAAAAA4/esgPCv9KL8I/S220/bioweek.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8273518.post-114692824215221799</id><published>2006-05-06T22:52:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-08T16:03:04.510+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pictures On The Move</title><content type='html'>success!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hai, got busy this afternoon after my driving lessons coz i tried to use my image ready. after an hour infront of the computer, i got the idea how to make a gif so tried to make a sample. and yeah, i was able to make my first gif!hahaha after two hours of clicking and dragging, timing and cutting,&amp; writing and erasing, i was able to make &lt;font color="#c7b299"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;my very first gif&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;! it was not as good as other gifs out there but for me, it was the best!hehehe i also made another one which looks the same as the first one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;here they are:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b84/krizah/1_2edit.gif"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b84/krizah/icon.gif"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hehehe..hope you like them! :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8273518-114692824215221799?l=tweendlines.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/feeds/114692824215221799/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2006/05/pictures-on-move.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/114692824215221799'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/114692824215221799'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2006/05/pictures-on-move.html' title='Pictures On The Move'/><author><name>Issa M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08965460158132807720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__SG1WqGVqVs/SPtV-Mdp6XI/AAAAAAAAAA4/esgPCv9KL8I/S220/bioweek.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8273518.post-114676687069005198</id><published>2006-05-05T02:02:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-08T16:01:58.520+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fanatic Wannabe</title><content type='html'>new BG!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hay, i've made another bg while playing with the brushes of photoshop yesterday afternoon. it's a lil bit messy but that's why i love it! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ive also made a bg of "Return of the Condor Hereos" the day before yesterday. I used it as my bg for a day then used the new one. i made it as a theme coz im watching it every night in GMA. it's called the "&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Love of the Condor Heroes&lt;/span&gt;" but when i searched it through the net, i found out that it was "&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Return of the Condor Heroes&lt;/span&gt;". I know the story coz ive already watch the anime version. it's a japanese love story. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;here's a shot of the other bg i made:&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://usera.imagecave.com/lastlyf/2top3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px;" src="http://usera.imagecave.com/lastlyf/2top3.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;............................&lt;br /&gt;kinda asking why "&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;amber&lt;/span&gt;" when all you can see is brown? well, i just like to use amber as the title. that's it. brown is not very far from amber, anyway. ayt?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8273518-114676687069005198?l=tweendlines.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/feeds/114676687069005198/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2006/05/fanatic-wannabe.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/114676687069005198'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/114676687069005198'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2006/05/fanatic-wannabe.html' title='Fanatic Wannabe'/><author><name>Issa M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08965460158132807720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__SG1WqGVqVs/SPtV-Mdp6XI/AAAAAAAAAA4/esgPCv9KL8I/S220/bioweek.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8273518.post-114633011755588747</id><published>2006-04-30T00:19:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-08T15:59:22.150+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sum It All Up</title><content type='html'>three(3) days...or four?hehehe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Haven't made any updates for the past few days. I've been busy attending my driving class. It started last thursday. &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;[recap:thursday-saturday]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;(wed &amp; thur)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My trip from tacloban was so wonderful. I saw this guy in the van station(whatever u call it). He was also going to borongan. I observed him while he was paying for his ticket and thought of any chances that i've already met him in borongan. But i cant remember seeing him here. He's face wasn't familiar. He's good-looking, chinito, has broad shoulders and is only an inch or two higher than me(think so). Damn!he has all the traits im looking for a guy. And yeah, before i forget!!!makatabi ko siya sa van!!!  we talked(bout the travel to borongan) but di ko pa rin nalaman name niya..huhuhuh sana makita ko ulit siya...*winks*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;(friday)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nag-end na nga pala ung encantadia last friday night. di gaanong maganda ung ending pero ok na din di naman ako fanatic ng enca. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;(saturday)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;umuwi na mga classmates ko sa high school kaya nakaalis na ako ng bahay..hehehe...ang saya nga namin kanina. talked about the latest chika pati na news and bagong mga rebelasyon...bwahahaha&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8273518-114633011755588747?l=tweendlines.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/feeds/114633011755588747/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2006/04/sum-it-all-up.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/114633011755588747'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/114633011755588747'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2006/04/sum-it-all-up.html' title='Sum It All Up'/><author><name>Issa M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08965460158132807720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__SG1WqGVqVs/SPtV-Mdp6XI/AAAAAAAAAA4/esgPCv9KL8I/S220/bioweek.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8273518.post-114596308436713986</id><published>2006-04-25T18:49:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-08T16:00:12.180+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Another Senseless Post</title><content type='html'>.........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;huhuhu..ang sama nman ng araw ko ngayon. di ko nakita ung prof ko tapos napagalitan pa ako ng mga magulang ko kasi nalaman na nila na INC ako sa Comm2 ko. kaasar naman kasi ung prof ko. di nlang niya ako pinasa(heheheh...madaya!).&lt;br /&gt;andito pla ako ngayon sa tacloban. ng-iisa lang. naglibot ako ng buong tacloban ng mag-isa. napakalungkot nga eh. but sabi nga nila, alone is not necessarily lonely! dba?hehehe&lt;br /&gt;kaya ko 'to!total uuwi na nman bukas eh.. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8273518-114596308436713986?l=tweendlines.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/feeds/114596308436713986/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2006/04/another-senseless-post.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/114596308436713986'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/114596308436713986'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2006/04/another-senseless-post.html' title='Another Senseless Post'/><author><name>Issa M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08965460158132807720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__SG1WqGVqVs/SPtV-Mdp6XI/AAAAAAAAAA4/esgPCv9KL8I/S220/bioweek.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8273518.post-114590565380217080</id><published>2006-04-25T02:54:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-08T16:00:49.496+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Damn!</title><content type='html'>damn!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i cant think of a good title right now. the only word that i said yesterday was damn so i used it as the title. &lt;br /&gt;im a bit disappointed right now coz i just read my professor's email stating that i didnt pass my comm2!damn!i need my grade in comm2 tomorrow!yeah, i need it that's why im going to tacloban tomorrow. i just hope i can see him there. i went there once, i think that was the week before the holy week. i went to see if my prof was around, but he wasn't. they said he was onleave! i tried to call his office yesterday but there was no answer. hate to say this but whether he's there in tacloban or not, im still going there tomorrow. i dont know what to do now. i hope he's there. my parents would kill me if they learn that i didnt pass my comm2 again! i badly need my grades.huhuhuh&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8273518-114590565380217080?l=tweendlines.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/feeds/114590565380217080/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2006/04/damn.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/114590565380217080'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/114590565380217080'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2006/04/damn.html' title='Damn!'/><author><name>Issa M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08965460158132807720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__SG1WqGVqVs/SPtV-Mdp6XI/AAAAAAAAAA4/esgPCv9KL8I/S220/bioweek.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8273518.post-114524880989448256</id><published>2006-04-17T11:30:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-04-17T12:40:09.933+08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Break!</title><content type='html'>yesterday was a break..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;since i went home from tacloban, i stayed inside the house. i didnt go out. it was really, really boring during the time my computer wasnt still fixed. the only thing i do was wake up, eat breakfast, take a bath, watch tv, open the computer for updates then  go to sleep again. i did the same thing for a week. but yesterday, i didnt. i went out to the beach with my family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the beach felt hot and the water so cold. though the beach was full of people because it was easter sunday, i still felt really happy. i usually dont want seeing many people in the beach. it makes me think that the water is too dirty to bathe. but not yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;after eating, i went to find a nice place to bathe where no person other than me and my family can swim. i failed. i searched everywhere but there was none. there were so many people in the water. but just the same, me and kuya ton went to the place we usually swim. the water was deep. i was satified thinking that my swimming class has a use at all. it never failed me until i hit a rock. my feet started bleeding so i decided to go back to the cottage. the bleed hasnt stop til i arrived home. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;after what happened, i still felt happy because i had a nice time with my sister and my kuya ton. after more than a week in this house of boredom(hehehe) i felt happy again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8273518-114524880989448256?l=tweendlines.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/feeds/114524880989448256/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2006/04/break.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/114524880989448256'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/114524880989448256'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2006/04/break.html' title='A Break!'/><author><name>Issa M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08965460158132807720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__SG1WqGVqVs/SPtV-Mdp6XI/AAAAAAAAAA4/esgPCv9KL8I/S220/bioweek.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8273518.post-114198550144371259</id><published>2006-03-10T17:35:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-03-10T18:24:50.400+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Amandaraga Falls</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/8190/552/1600/IMGP1449.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/8190/552/200/IMGP1449.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;center&gt;Amandaraga Falls in Lawa-an, Eastern Samar&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Amandaraga Fall&lt;/span&gt;s in &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Lawa-an, Eastern Samar&lt;/span&gt;. We visited it last month during our eco-tourism trip. It was very beautiful. It is more beautiful in reality than on picture. Yes, I saw alot of pictures of it in posters when I was still in Eastern Samar but I never imagined it to be very beautiful.&lt;br&gt; &lt;br /&gt;The trip going to Amandaraga falls is very long. I think it took us almost three hours walking on a very rocky road. We even crossed a hanging bridge which almost crashed down because of its age. The experience was very scary but it was fun! After reaching the falls, we wanted to have take a bath but the current was so strong that's why we can't go swimming. So what we did is we walked on the water to get near the falls. It was so beatiful and the water was so refreshing. Even though the trip going there was so tough and tiery, you can say that it was worth it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8273518-114198550144371259?l=tweendlines.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/feeds/114198550144371259/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2006/03/amandaraga-falls.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/114198550144371259'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/114198550144371259'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2006/03/amandaraga-falls.html' title='Amandaraga Falls'/><author><name>Issa M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08965460158132807720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__SG1WqGVqVs/SPtV-Mdp6XI/AAAAAAAAAA4/esgPCv9KL8I/S220/bioweek.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8273518.post-113936936805308684</id><published>2006-02-08T11:04:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-04-12T18:03:59.930+08:00</updated><title type='text'>ALIPIN</title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;Alipin&lt;br /&gt;by Shamrock&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.spcnet.tv/korea2003/jewelinpalace/jewel02.jpg" height="125" width="250"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;"ako'y alipin mo kahit hindi batid. &lt;br /&gt;aaminin ko minsan ako'y manhid. &lt;br /&gt;sana ay, iyong naririnig. &lt;br /&gt;sayong yakap ako'y nasasabik."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this is the new theme song of &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Jewel in the Palace&lt;/span&gt;. It's really nice. ang ganda nung thought, bagay lang talaga kay Kapitan. About their love story in Jang Geum. It's really, really nice. Kadadownload ko nga lang ngayon eh. Narinig ko nung monday sa Jewel and dun sa SOP noong Sunday. This song was performed by &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Shamrock&lt;/span&gt;. Ganda talaga.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;"pagkat ikaw lang ang nais makatabi.&lt;br /&gt;malamig man o mainit ang gabi. &lt;br /&gt;nais ko sana iparating,&lt;br /&gt;na ikaw lamang ang syang aking iibigin." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8273518-113936936805308684?l=tweendlines.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/feeds/113936936805308684/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2006/02/alipin.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/113936936805308684'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/113936936805308684'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2006/02/alipin.html' title='ALIPIN'/><author><name>Issa M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08965460158132807720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__SG1WqGVqVs/SPtV-Mdp6XI/AAAAAAAAAA4/esgPCv9KL8I/S220/bioweek.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8273518.post-113691282005401197</id><published>2006-01-11T00:26:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-30T23:07:37.958+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mr. Close-up Smile</title><content type='html'>mownin everyone!&lt;br /&gt;yesterday was fine except i didnt thought of a periodical test would happen.&lt;br /&gt;i went to school bout 12:50pm. i had my comm2 at exactly 1pm. my prof. entered the room and told us he's giving us our &lt;b&gt;first periodical test&lt;/b&gt;. whoooaaa!i thought it was ok to have the test because it's just a multiple choice. what was really bad is when he gave us back our &lt;b&gt;essay&lt;/b&gt;. my friend recah got 1.25 and mine was &lt;b&gt;1.75&lt;/b&gt;. it really didnt mattered to me the score i got. it's just that of what he wrote on the comment portion -- &lt;b&gt;"must fix your use of prepositions"&lt;/b&gt;. i really hate making essays. i find it hard to put my thoughts into words and i cant even make a simple paragraph to be error free. hay, how will i pass kaya my comm2?huhuhu&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;after my comm2, i went directly to our audio-visual room. it was time for my envisci. our prof. was supposed to show us some ppf to serve as a guide for our report on environmental problems. hay, what happened was, we just watched a &lt;b&gt;movie&lt;/b&gt; concerning environmental problems and how to deal with them. it was really, really boring!!buti nlang katabi ko si &lt;b&gt;clint&lt;/b&gt;. we talked nlang instead of watching. muntik na nga makatulog ung isa kong katabi kc boring talaga.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well, syempre, di mawawala ung magandang nangyari sakin today. i was in my math14 nung dumaan si &lt;b&gt;kuya ___&lt;/b&gt; . sheeettt, ang cute nya tlga! ung maganda pa is nung nakita nya ako nung dumadaan na siya sa door nmin. nung lumampas na siya bumalik siya and nag&lt;b&gt;"hi"&lt;/b&gt; pa sakin. syempre lam ko na ako un kc ako lang kakilala nya dun sa room kaya ngwave ako n return..hehehe..hay, ang ganda tlga ng &lt;b&gt;smile&lt;/b&gt; nya. tanggal ung pgkaboring ng subject..buti nlang tlga dumaan ung taong un!yehey!=)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8273518-113691282005401197?l=tweendlines.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/feeds/113691282005401197/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2006/01/his-smile.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/113691282005401197'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/113691282005401197'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2006/01/his-smile.html' title='Mr. Close-up Smile'/><author><name>Issa M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08965460158132807720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__SG1WqGVqVs/SPtV-Mdp6XI/AAAAAAAAAA4/esgPCv9KL8I/S220/bioweek.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8273518.post-113682687816905845</id><published>2006-01-10T00:41:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-30T23:11:30.006+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Crazy Day</title><content type='html'>hay, kakaloka today..&lt;br /&gt;di ako nakatulog last nyt kc i was so damn busy pg-internet.&lt;br /&gt;i think that was already 2:30 in the morning nung nakatulog ako and i woke up mga 4:30am kaya mejo kakapagod tlga.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;di nga me ng-open kahit anong notes sa botany. &lt;b&gt;first long exam&lt;/b&gt; ko kanina pero di tlga me nakapag-aral. inatupag ko lang kc ung net kaya ewan ko kung ano naisagot ko dun kanina sa exam. hay, hirap tlga. nung lumabas na kami ng lab, pinag-uusapan ng mga klasmyts ko kung ano answers nila and syempre, para akong &lt;b&gt;tanga&lt;/b&gt; na wala akong maintindihan sa pinagsasabi nila. mga terms na di ko pa narinig...hay, ung isa nga eh, tinanong pa ako nung spelling.hmm, i think that word was &lt;b&gt;distichous&lt;/b&gt;. pano ko nman kaya un maispell kung first time kong marinig ung word. hay, ewan ko!mababaliw tlga ako dun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;buti nlang meron magandang nangyari sakin kanina. i just got my &lt;b&gt;own USB flash drive&lt;/b&gt; 256mb! thank you tlga &lt;b&gt;ate yvonne&lt;/b&gt; sa binigay mong USB...palagi ko nlang kcng prob ung pgtransfer ng data. matagal ko ng plan ung bumili kaso ala akong pambili..thank you tlga..binilhan niya ko sa cebu kahapon nd nagkita kami kanina before sya umuwi ng borongan..promise niya kc un sakin ung christmas..kaya ganun.*-*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ngstart na pla ung &lt;b&gt;forbidden love&lt;/b&gt; kanina. nanood ako pero ewan, mejo naguguluhan ako sa story. siguro di ko lang magets ung mga background ng mga grupo dun. mejo di ko rin feel kasi ayoko ng maraming ng-aaway..hehehe..pero sige, try ko magwatch every night para maintindihan ko. masyado na kasing late ung sched niya kaya ewan ko lang..hehehe.*-*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8273518-113682687816905845?l=tweendlines.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/feeds/113682687816905845/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2006/01/whatta-day.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/113682687816905845'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/113682687816905845'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2006/01/whatta-day.html' title='Crazy Day'/><author><name>Issa M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08965460158132807720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__SG1WqGVqVs/SPtV-Mdp6XI/AAAAAAAAAA4/esgPCv9KL8I/S220/bioweek.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8273518.post-113661075693288219</id><published>2006-01-07T12:52:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-04-12T18:06:26.893+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Only You</title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://koreandvdmovies.com/images%2Fproducts%2FDefault%2Fkorean-tv-drama%2Fonly_you.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ang ganda talaga&lt;br /&gt;kakainlove&lt;br /&gt;ang saya tlga pag nag-aaway si gillian at tj&lt;br /&gt;sayang nga lang at malapit nang matapos&lt;br /&gt;masaya tlga 'to&lt;br /&gt;maganda story kc nagkaanak sila&lt;br /&gt;ang cute pa nman...joshua ang pangalan&lt;br /&gt;di alam ni tj na nagkaanak sila ni gillian nung me nangyari sa kanila nung nandun pa sila sa italy. nagkita sila after 6 years. Nagtrabo c gillian sa itallian resturant na pagmamay-ari ni tj and ngayon close na sina tj at joshua kahit di niya alam na anak niya 'to. &lt;br /&gt;hay, syempre, nainlove si tj kay gillian pero galit pa rin si gillian sa kanya! &lt;br /&gt;nice tlga ang story!!!&lt;br /&gt;nood nalang kayo...&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8273518-113661075693288219?l=tweendlines.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/feeds/113661075693288219/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2006/01/only-you.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/113661075693288219'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/113661075693288219'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2006/01/only-you.html' title='Only You'/><author><name>Issa M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08965460158132807720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__SG1WqGVqVs/SPtV-Mdp6XI/AAAAAAAAAA4/esgPCv9KL8I/S220/bioweek.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8273518.post-113654326262560400</id><published>2006-01-06T18:04:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-30T23:10:32.951+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Blogger Returns</title><content type='html'>music: mojofly - tumatakbo, craig david - im sorry&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a year, I showed up. I haven't updated this blog since high school. I've been college for more than seven months and it is just now that i've given time to check it out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never missed to go to internet cafes and check my friendster account if i have a new message or a testimonial. I always have the time to type www.blogger.com just to update my blog, but I didn't. I don't know, but for some reasons i cant write what's been happenin to me these past few months. Hmm, it's just so different now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can't think what's been stoppin me to write here. So, I decided to check it and make some changes in my blog. Yeah, I did a perfect job in changing my layout but i still cant post anything on it that is worth reading. Now, i'm pushing myself to publish something that's good. I just dont know if i can...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ohh, by the way, thanks to joyce and julius for reminding me to update my blog. Both of them are competing in making their blog layout bueautiful. They just told me to edit mine, too.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8273518-113654326262560400?l=tweendlines.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/feeds/113654326262560400/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2006/01/im-back.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/113654326262560400'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/113654326262560400'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2006/01/im-back.html' title='The Blogger Returns'/><author><name>Issa M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08965460158132807720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__SG1WqGVqVs/SPtV-Mdp6XI/AAAAAAAAAA4/esgPCv9KL8I/S220/bioweek.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8273518.post-110786895334727112</id><published>2005-02-09T13:30:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-30T23:09:39.657+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Words of the Therapist</title><content type='html'>when you feel you're incapable of doing things, just think about all the things you can do! Better if you could write them on a piece of paper. Read it many times until you realize that there are other things that you can do!...This doesnt give much but i know it would make you feel better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;now, when you feel incomplete, remember that no one is perfect and that others are also feeling the same way sometimes. There may be times when you ask yourself why you cant have things others have. And even how hard you try to get them, you still cant. Bear in mind that you cant have everything. Not all of your wishes come true for it was never meant to be yours. Learn how to treasure all the things you possess. And you will feel how happy it is to be complete!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8273518-110786895334727112?l=tweendlines.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/feeds/110786895334727112/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2005/02/arianes-words.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/110786895334727112'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/110786895334727112'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2005/02/arianes-words.html' title='Words of the Therapist'/><author><name>Issa M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08965460158132807720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__SG1WqGVqVs/SPtV-Mdp6XI/AAAAAAAAAA4/esgPCv9KL8I/S220/bioweek.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8273518.post-110709299923113615</id><published>2005-01-30T21:46:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-30T23:12:50.763+08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Pile of Nonsense</title><content type='html'>It’s cold&lt;br /&gt;It’s lonely&lt;br /&gt;I’m alone&lt;br /&gt;I want to cry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s hard&lt;br /&gt;It’s dark&lt;br /&gt;I’m afraid&lt;br /&gt;I want to hide.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To be brave&lt;br /&gt;To be strong&lt;br /&gt;To stand up&lt;br /&gt;And learn how to fight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To be good&lt;br /&gt;To be humble&lt;br /&gt;To love&lt;br /&gt;And live a happy life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’ll try&lt;br /&gt;I’ll do it&lt;br /&gt;‘til the day I can say&lt;br /&gt;I’m a better person now!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8273518-110709299923113615?l=tweendlines.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/feeds/110709299923113615/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2005/01/better.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/110709299923113615'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/110709299923113615'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2005/01/better.html' title='A Pile of Nonsense'/><author><name>Issa M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08965460158132807720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__SG1WqGVqVs/SPtV-Mdp6XI/AAAAAAAAAA4/esgPCv9KL8I/S220/bioweek.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8273518.post-109481951667316867</id><published>2004-09-10T19:57:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-30T23:13:21.582+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Second Chance</title><content type='html'>i dont know anything. all i was trying was to be good at my friends but they always tell everyone that im not. i tried to prove it wrong and just finding myself out of the circle. they humiliate me everytime i join them and even sometimes they do it infront of many people. they're always making fun of me that it makes me feel so up set causing the too much pain. they never tried to understand me. i felt so alone. no one cared for me for a very long time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;time had passed..many years after those unhappy moments, i found myself watching the sun rise near the sea. watching it as it slowly lights the sky. that morning i saw my friends coming near me also watching the glowing sun as it shines leaving the horizon. now i know that i was wrong. i did not changed for the good, but for the the bad...i never realized that until one of my friends told me so. i had no second thoughts about changing for the better..all i want is to have my friends back. so i tried my best. and now i find myself happy for my decision in life. it changed me a lot better than before. thanks for those who really cared for me...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8273518-109481951667316867?l=tweendlines.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/feeds/109481951667316867/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2004/09/second-chance.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/109481951667316867'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8273518/posts/default/109481951667316867'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tweendlines.blogspot.com/2004/09/second-chance.html' title='Second Chance'/><author><name>Issa M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08965460158132807720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__SG1WqGVqVs/SPtV-Mdp6XI/AAAAAAAAAA4/esgPCv9KL8I/S220/bioweek.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
