<?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-846709731457378825</id><updated>2011-08-02T09:48:22.881+08:00</updated><category term='love doens&apos;t just make the world go round:] it also makes it go curved:]'/><title type='text'>me. my thoughts. my expression.</title><subtitle type='html'>"-'At any given moment in our lives, there are certain things that could've happened but did not'- By the River Piedra I Sat Down and Wept, Paulo Coelho</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>283</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-2212632388243454488</id><published>2009-10-10T21:59:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-10-11T01:59:52.310+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Panahon.</title><content type='html'>Iba ang buhay sa Maynila sa buhay sa probinsya. Hindi ito bagong ideya sa marami. Alam ko ito. Isa ako sa mga pruweba na magkaiba nga sila.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mabilis ang takbo ng oras sa Maynila. Hindi mo na nga namamalayan ang pagtakbo nito. Minsan gusto mo na lang habulin at sabihing, 'Teka lang naman! Di pa ako tapos e!' Pero hindi e. Kailangan sumabay sa agos. Kailangan mo laging maging handa sa bilis ng pagtakbo nito.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tumingin ako ng mga litrato mula nung first year, first week, college. Maraming nang nagbago. Totoo yan. Nabibilib ako sa takbo ng buhay ng tao. Oo, mabilis ang oras pero sadyang maraming nagagawa kahit sa gaano man ito kabilis.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Marami nang nagbago. Sobra. Ang iba ay payat noon at ngayon naman ay may laman na. Meron din namang mga may laman noon na payat na ngayon. May mga nagkakagustuhan noon na ngayon ay wala nang nararamdaman para sa isa't isa. Meron din namang parang ayaw sa isa't isa noon at ngayon ay sila na at nagtatagal pa sila. Ang mga 'di inaakalang mabubuong pagtitinginan noon ay nagaganap na ngayon. Totoo nga. Nagbabago ang mga tao. Tulad ng sabi ng isang kaibigan sa kanyang isinulat, "Sometimes, change happens because it can." Tama. Oo nga.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Marami na ring mga bagay na nangyari. Sa aking pagtingin sa mga litrato, nakita ko ang iba't ibang mga pangyayari. Sa akin pa lang, hindi ko na mabilang ang mga pangyayari. Meron pa nga na hindi ko na maalala kung ano. Nandiyan ang nagkaroon ng boyfriend nung first year at sobrang kilig dahil sakanya at siyempre ang pag-iyak nang mawala ito ng hindi inaasahan. Ang pagdamay ng mga kaibigan mula umpisa hanggang tuluyan ng nakalimot sa naramdaman. Meron ding mga 'first times' tulad ng pag-inom nung first year. Noo'y takot pa kami at hiyang magyaya ng inuman. Ngayon ay tila isang libangan na lamang ito na nagpapasaya at nagpaparelax samin. Meron din siyempreng mga celebrations na tuwing naaalala ay nagpapangiti ng labi. Nandiyan din ang pagkakaroon ulit ng boyfriend nung second year na kung iisipin ko ngayon, nasasayangan ako. Kaya naman kase e. Kaso hindi lang inalagaan ng mas maigi. Bata pa nga kame. Ngunit hindi ko naman pinagsisisihan ito. Dahil sa sumunod na mga litrato, nakita ko na maayos naman ang naging buhay ko. Oo, napasaya ako nung panahong yon. Masaya din naman ako ngayon kahit alam kong may kulang. Ayos lang. Marami pang lugar para sa marami pang susunod na mga litrato.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;At hindi lamang pangyayari ang marami. Marami ding mga bagay na natutunan sa loob ng dalawa't kalahating taon. Merong isang litrato na kung saan putol sa binti ang mga kinukuhanan. Hindi yon tama sa rule ng photography. At natutunan namin iyon sa pagtakbo ng panahon. Natuto na rin ako sa mga naging pagkakamali. Marami akong nagawang pagkakamali. Natuto naman ako. &lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Isa sa mga iyon ay ang pairalin din ang utak kasabay ng puso bago gumawa ng desisyon. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"&gt;Madalas, nakakatulong ito para hindi masaktan, para hindi maagrabyado. Natuto din akong tumayo sa sarili kong paa. Dati'y hindi ako marunong magcommute. Ngayon ay nakakapag-taxi akong mag-isa. Nakakapag-bus na din ako pauwi sa probinsya. At marunong na din akong mag-LRT mag-isa. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Masaya ang buhay dito sa Maynila. Oo, iba ito sa buhay sa probinsya. Pareho namang masaya e. Magkaiba nga lang ng rason. At totoong mabilis ang oras dito. Pero sa totoo lang, hindi naman dapat ito hinahabol e. Hindi naman yata ito kailanman hinabol. Ang mga bagay ay sadyang mangyayari kung dapat silang mangyari.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Marami pa akong lugar para sa mga bagong litrato. Gusto ko na itong punan. At gagawin ko iyon. Masaya ako. Oo, masaya ako. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-2212632388243454488?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/2212632388243454488/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=2212632388243454488' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/2212632388243454488'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/2212632388243454488'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2009/10/panahon.html' title='Panahon.'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-9005916120642985208</id><published>2009-09-24T20:00:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-25T00:00:13.515+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pili ka.</title><content type='html'>Naglakad ako sa may kahabaan ng lugar na hindi ko lubos na alam. May gusto akong puntahan pero bago lang ako rito, hindi pa gaanong sanay.Hindi pa ako pamilyar sa mga pwedeng puntahan o sa mga shortcuts para madali akong makarating sa gusto kong marating.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;May nakita akong likuan. San kaya ito patungo? Hindi ko alam. Maraming tao ang nasa paligid. Pwede akong magtanong pero ayaw ko. Para bang gusto kong bigyan ng leksyon ang sarili ko. Gusto kong matuto sa sarili kong pagsisikap.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oo, isang malaking pagbabakasakali ito. Pwede akong maligaw lalo, pwede akong mapahamak, pwede akong mapalayo sa gusto kong puntahan. Pero kasabay ng mga negatibong ideyang ito ay ang posibilidad ring pwede akong makarating agad sa gusto kong puntahan, okaya ay pwedeng may kaibigan akong makasabay, o pwede ring marami akong matutunan sa pagpunta ko doon.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ganyan ang buhay. Sa bawat desisyon, may laging pwedeng pagpilian. Oo o hinde? Itim o puti? Meron o wala? Lagi yan. Hindi pwedeng wala, nandiyan na agad. Dapat pag-isipan, dapat bigyan ng pansing ang mga pipiliin. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Parang ngayon. Pwede akong tumigil na lang at wag nang tumuloy. Pwede rin akong lumiko dito, okaya doon. Pwede ring bumalik ako sa dating lugar na mas alam ko. Pero ano nga bang gagawin ko? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tulad ng sabi ko, dapat itong pag-isipan. Walang masama kung magpahinga muna sa paglalakad. Isip muna..at marahil pwede ring gumamit ng puso, kahit papaano lang.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-9005916120642985208?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/9005916120642985208/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=9005916120642985208' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/9005916120642985208'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/9005916120642985208'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2009/09/pili-ka.html' title='Pili ka.'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-5841475673453181941</id><published>2009-09-06T21:59:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-07T01:59:19.545+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Some randoms..not?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-style: italic;"&gt;Life is not long, and too much of it must not pass in idle deliberation on how it shall be spent.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;- Samuel Johnson&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br&gt;Lately, I've been thinking too much. I'm psychologically and physically tired.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Well, it's not a surprise that school is killing me. Not just me, but a lot of students! I always have an issue with time. I want more time. You know that half-meant joke where one wishes to have a 25/8 week? I am one of the people who say that now. Geez. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I find it hard to squeeze all the things I need to do in just a short time. And then I &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-style: italic;"&gt;have&lt;/span&gt; to go home at least once a week. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Hindi pwedeng hinde&lt;/span&gt;. Well, I can. It's just that my Mom would be so nagging about it. She's not used to this yet - this me not going home. And of course, I also want to go home. I miss home. So much. But sometimes, I find it hard to leave things behind. I find it hard not to stay connected to the work I left in Manila..which makes me feel frustrated sometimes. I cannot rest, like rest &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;talaga&lt;/span&gt;. Because I have a lot of things in mind..all those things that need to be done. I sometimes become guilty for resting!&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;True enough, how I live my life now is okay. I can see that I am being productive. I am able to finish things. Although I feel super duper exhausted, I'm fine...or at least I try to be. I just keep in mind that it's going to be rest time in a few weeks. O sembreak, I can't wait!&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Despite the fact that I am mega busy with school, I could not deny the fact that there are still idle moments in my life. You know, those times when you're doing your work and suddenly you stop and then think. Well, this idle moment happens to me often when I am in the bus. I tend to think about things..how I'm going to live my life..where I'm going to go..what I'm going to be.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;How am I going to live my life? Where am I going to go? What am I going to be?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I find no answer despite the bugging questions of my thoughts. My heart beats for many things! I love where I am. I love CA. O I love it more than any course I can ever have! But I am so hating this moment in my relationship with my course (okay, I cannot fully grasp what word to use instead of relationship, so just try to understand). I am doubting. I am doubting if I still want to be here, if I still like this to be my life. I hate it. I hate it because I know deep inside my heart and my mind, this is what I want. It bothers me now. I feel frustrated for feeling this. Maybe this was brought by the exhaustion from school works and all. But I hope it fades soon. This is what I want. But I'm really not feeling that now. And this makes me sad. This makes me confuse!&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I feel like there are two paths for me. I have one smooth sailing path - CA. And then I have this rough one too! Both of these do not have a clear end point. Of course, nothing is really definite in this life. However, one thing's for sure. I am going to and I will finish CA before doing something else. This is not a bad decision, and I believe it is right. Well, I just hope I gain my feelings towards it back. Maybe I just need to rest for a while, eh?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-style: italic;"&gt;Life is not long, and too much of it must not pass in idle deliberation on how it shall be spent. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;But I always find myself thinking. I used to be so spontaneous. I do not plan ahead. I do not think too much of the future. I just live life to how I feel will make me happy. I am just a happy-go-lucky little girl. Yes, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-style: italic;"&gt;I used to be just a little girl.&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I've grown up. Haven't I?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;   &lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-5841475673453181941?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/5841475673453181941/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=5841475673453181941' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/5841475673453181941'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/5841475673453181941'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2009/09/some-randomsnot.html' title='Some randoms..not?'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-9036782178903890327</id><published>2009-09-04T18:15:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-04T22:15:19.199+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-style: italic;"&gt;Life is all about making the right choices.&lt;/span&gt; Decision are hard to deal with especially is you have all the very good choice laid in front of you. But at the end, how will you know that you made the right choice?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Is it because it will make you happy, that you have all your heart in it? Or is it because it will gain you fame, or money, or power? Would you know that you made the right choice after you've done it? What if after a while of choosing it and being happy about it, you suddenly realize that you're not happy anymore? What you you realize that you want something else?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Basically, it's a general question. May it be in love, or in career, or in life in general. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;You see, you may have let go of a person that you thought you do not want in your life anymore. While doing it, and at least for the next few months after it, you may have felt satisfied, contented. What if along the way, you realize that you still want the person? What if you realize that you still want to spend the rest of your life with that same person you thought you wanted to let go? What would you do? Would you get him back? Or would you just ignore the feeling and accept the fact that the once right choice you thought is now a wrong one? And then there's the question of, will it make you happy then?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;It may also be a matter of choosing someone. Yes, for that moment and the next couple of months, you will feel happy. You will be joyed. But what if one day, you wake up and realize that you're not happy anymore? What if one day you feel that you want someone else?  What if one day you realize that you want the person you were once with to be with you again? Would you choose the person you are with right now? Or would you choose to go back? But again, will your decision make you happy?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;What will you do when one day, you wake up and you feel tired already. Tired of what used to make you happy? What will you do if the job you once dreamed of now makes you struggle so hard? What will you do if you're not satisfied anymore, not contented of what you have and where you are anymore? What will you do when suddenly you realize, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;YOU DO NOT WANT ANY OF THIS ANYMORE?&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;See, there's always a place for doubt. A place for questioning what you once thought as a firm decision. It is but true that change is the only constant thing in the world. So what would you do if one day, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-style: italic;"&gt;the beat of your heart suddenly changes?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;   &lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-9036782178903890327?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/9036782178903890327/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=9036782178903890327' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/9036782178903890327'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/9036782178903890327'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2009/09/happy.html' title='Happy?'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-3156283609529490302</id><published>2009-08-27T19:44:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-27T23:44:34.404+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Teka lang. Okay? (a rant)</title><content type='html'>Time is running way too fast. Sana pwede kong sabihing 'Teka lang. Okay?' &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I don't know if I should be glad because I can see and I can feel that my life is moving, that it's not stagnant, or should I worry because I seem to forget that this is JUST A PART of my life, that I have other things to pour my attention to.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Minsan, napapaisip ako. Is this a training of what my life would be in the future? Lahat na lang hinahabol kase laging kulang sa oras. Lahat ng lang minamadali kase baka di umabot sa deadline? &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Lahat na lang tumatakbo, kase alam kong hindi titigil ang oras at ang mundo para saken.&lt;/span&gt; Mahirap isipin. Masaya naman kasi ako e. Yun nga lang, nakakainis yung at the end of the day, mapapaisip ako at marerealize ko that I haven't got a hold of my life as a whole.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Sabi ko nga kay Vince kanina, gusto ko ang buhay ko ngayon. Ito ang gusto ko. Pero natatakot ako. Kasi masyado siyang mabilis. Hindi ako makahinto kahit saglit lang. Minsan nakakalimutan ko na nga ang essence kung bakit ko pa ginagawa ang mga ginagawa ko.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;No, I'm not complaining. Alam ko naman kasing mangyayari toh. Nagrarant lang ako. Kase, there's nothing more to do. Buhay ko na toh. Ngayon, at pwedeng bukas din. Mahirap siguro ngayon. Pero masasanay din siguro ako.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Masaya ako sa ginagawa ko. Walang tanong jan. Yun nga lang, pano na yung ibang aspeto ng buhay ko? &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Pano ako gagalaw sa mundong limitado ng oras?&lt;/span&gt; Sana talaga pwede kong sabihing &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Teka lang. Okay?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-3156283609529490302?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/3156283609529490302/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=3156283609529490302' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/3156283609529490302'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/3156283609529490302'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2009/08/teka-lang-okay-rant.html' title='Teka lang. Okay? (a rant)'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-8902010796705416704</id><published>2009-08-16T21:15:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-17T01:15:47.387+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Who is she?</title><content type='html'>He looked at her from afar while she was busy working with her painting. She's beautiful, probably the most beautiful thing in his eyes. An artist of a kind, a great person, a wonderful friend; that's her. Is she perfect? No, she's not. But that's what makes her human, that's what makes her less of a dream and more of a reality. He doesn't need another dream, he doesn't need another doll. He needs her, the imperfect her.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;He went back to what he was reading. He held a book in his hand, with a pen and a paper beside him. He needed all the possible motivations he can have so he can write, so he can create another story to satisfy entertainment demands.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;He opened the book to the last page he was reading. He was halfway through it. It's been months since he started reading the book but he could not possibly give time to just sit and read. He glanced at her again. She's still there. She's so beautiful in his eyes. She looked more like an angel than human. She moved her hands so gracefully and every move of it simply created art. It was as if she heard what he was thinking in his mind, she glanced at his direction and suddenly gave a smile. He smiled back, and then went back to what he was reading.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;He's been there for hours. But wait, why was he there again? Suddenly, he forgot why he needed to be there. O yes, wait a minute. He remembered. He was there so he can write, so he can finally write a story again, and yes, he was there so he can stare at her while she painted, so he can look at her beautiful eyes, and if luck permits, so he can have a share of that wonderful smile that he's always been caught to.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;He started reading the first paragraph of the page which he was reading. He was reading but he could not understand a word. His mind was too preoccupied with matters that issued his heart. Why is he there until that time? Is it not time to go yet?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;He looked at her again. He could not possibly find a reason to get bored or to be tired of what he was looking at. Sweat was all over her body. O if he could just give her a towel, or better, if he could just wipe her sweat. She used her hands to clear her face and her forehead. Is she tired? Of course she is. It's been hours too since she started painting.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;He held his book closer. Wait, will he still continue reading the book? He could not understand what he was reading anymore. Will he still try to comprehend even though he knows that it is just her who will enter his mind freely? &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Another glance, another smile. 'Why can't she just stop doing that?', he said to himself.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;He stood from where he was sitting. He placed the book while he packed her things. But wait, before he packed everything up, he tried to write a story. Maybe a story about? No, maybe about them? He was confused. He doesn't have the ideas he needs. Will he still write?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;He thought for a while. Why was he there again? Was it to write? O yes, of course. And so that he can stare at her, fall under whatever spell she had to him. He got the book from the table. He smiled and he read the last sentence of the paragraph.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;He realized that he did not need any motivation after all. He can write another story. He can write about her, or them. But then again, maybe, he can write about others as well. She's beautiful, she's lovely with a face of an angel. But he can't be like that forever. He needs to do something and not just simply sit there and read a book. He fixed his things and fixed his table. While so, he saw her moving her things as well, packing up too, maybe. This is it, it's his chance. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Just when he was about to offer her a hand, the man behind him stood up and went to her direction. She looked at the man and she smiled. He gave her a peck and a hug, and then he helped her pack her things up.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;It's been months since he started going there. It's been months since he started sitting there for hours. Yes, it's been months since he first saw her. Was she smiling at him a while ago? No, he wasn't. She doesn't even know him. She doesn't even know his name at all. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;He walked towards her and had the courage to finally talk to her and ask what her name is. But the man behind him took her hand and they went away. Missed chance? Maybe. After all, he doesn't need her name.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;He took the book he was holding a little while ago. He looked at it as if it were something precious. 'It's a nice book', he said. But he wanted to start to walk away already.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;So from where he was standing, he gave a final book at what was in his hands and said. He let out a sigh and smiled. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-style: italic;"&gt;He closed it. Finally, he closed it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;   &lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-8902010796705416704?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/8902010796705416704/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=8902010796705416704' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/8902010796705416704'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/8902010796705416704'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2009/08/who-is-she.html' title='Who is she?'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-4795693728222661297</id><published>2009-08-14T19:02:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-14T23:02:28.476+08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's not about the food, it's about the time spent.</title><content type='html'>I'm in Pampanga right now. I just arrived like an hour ago or so. In about 6-7 hours, I'll be leaving for Manila again. So why else did I go home right?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I went home because I miss my dad. Well, if you're my friend, you would know that my dad works in Cebu and he goes home every 2 weeks. And as for me, I go home on Thursdays and Fridays which I do not follow lately because of too much work to do. So I haven't seen my dad for more than a month now. I miss him terribly. I feel like I'm being distant from him. I'm his baby girl and I'm a self-confessed daddy's girl. I do not like the feeling of being distant from my dad.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;So, even though I am so tired, and even though it's already late, I went home today so that at least, we can have dinner together, with the whole family of course. That's what I was expecting. I miss all of them.I haven't been with them for so long now because although I go home every week, I'm still preoccupied. I was hoping we can all sit together and just talk. You know, that simple meal where all of us are there and conversing, updating and all. I miss that. I miss how we can all laugh together. I miss them.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I feel sad because it didn't happen. Yes, I am home. All of us are home. But I was late for dinner. I had to eat dinner alone. And I hate being alone. People know that. I hate it when I feel that nobody is with me. I am not angry at them because I understand that they are as tired as I am. But well, I expected. I just wish we had time to sit all together and just talk. I hate eating alone. I hate that feeling. I could not even taste what I eat. I just swallow. I feel so sad. Really sad.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;My life is too busy. While eating, I just kept telling myself that this is what I chose, and this is what I want. It made me go on, but it didn't make me feel better. Life is not good without any companion. And I truly believe in that. I always need someone to be with. I want someone to have by my side. And lately, I've been missing too many people. My dad, my mom, my sibs, the whole family, my best friend. Yes, and speaking of my best friend, we have this Thurday lunch date plan on the start of the sem which we still haven't started until now. I do not have time. And I am really sorry for that. See, it's a meal too that we planned. I miss her. I haven't talked to her like TALK to her for a while. I miss having someone with me in times like this. Yes, I know you know what I mean. Demmet. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;It's not about eating the food, it's not about sitting there and finishing all at the same time. It's about spending time together. That's why I always find it special when I eat with someone. It's like giving him/her a time that we can spend together.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I feel bad.&lt;br&gt;I just wish I did not eat alone at home tonight.&lt;br&gt;   &lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-4795693728222661297?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/4795693728222661297/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=4795693728222661297' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/4795693728222661297'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/4795693728222661297'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2009/08/it-not-about-food-it-about-time-spent.html' title='It&amp;#39;s not about the food, it&amp;#39;s about the time spent.'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-8408713540039691571</id><published>2009-08-04T17:32:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-04T21:32:39.633+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Of the other half and pancakes for midnight snacks.</title><content type='html'>Breath.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;It took me about 20 minutes before I was able to type another word after that. I've been so preoccupied lately. Life gave me so much work to do and I love it. Junior is not easy. Whoever said it is, maybe he or she has not experienced it yet, or at all. However, I like it. I like how I go home everyday with my body wanting to give up already because of too much exhaustion. No, don't get me wrong. I'm not appreciating the body pains and the headaches per se. I am appreciating the fact that they are there, because they are the proof of my labor. I work and I think. I spend my energy well, and I push it to the limit. This is what I want. This is what I love to do. Basically, everything in school now is in my interest. Okay, maybe Spanish and Experimental Psychology and Filipino doesn't really interest me as much as TV Prod and Adver, but still, it's nice to learn some things, isn't? I'm appreciating Experimental Psychology because of Stat. Yes, I love stat. I like how it makes me think. And Spanish? Well, it just feels good to know another language. And Filipino? Well, it's Filipino.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;TV Production is taking all my time for the week, including Sundays. Especially for our Pilot Episode for USTrip. O gosh. We've been working for TV Prod for 3 weeks now and I can say that I've learned much more than any subects for this sem in those 3 weeks. I may hate the fact that Ara, Faye and I haven't got our pedicure because we don't have time but still, it's worth it. I may have lost time for myself, but I surely have all the time to work with RE Prod.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I am very much thankful for my groupmates. Really. We work together so well. It's not perfect, and it's not always laughters for us, but at the end of the day (literally and figuratively), we get to fix whatever problem/s we had. I feel so grateful for them. I feel blessed because I got the chance to work with really nice and intelligent people. I feel so professional when I work with them. Hahaha. Well, it's because they are matured when working and yet, they stay humble. This is the kind of environment where I like to work. Thank you guys. We'll make it all through out, alright? Let's keep working! I'm so proud of us :)&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;And because of TV Prod, I haven't been eating lunch with the whole barkada for 3 weeks now. I miss you guys. I miss us! Haha. I miss heaven's na. Let's sing alone naaa!:)) The group was divided into 2. As in. 4 are in Powerhouse Prod and we're 4 in R.E. Prod. It's nice to have Ara, Alvin and Vince with me since it's been a while the four of us hung out. I mean, no, we don't just chillax. It's just that every lunch break, it's only the four of us. Reminds me of our first year in college. Haha. Those times when no one had a boyfriend and girlfriend. Haha. But of course, our barkada now is very amazing. I love those 7 people so much. And I'm really looking forward to our lunch date. One of these days, guys! One of these days!:)&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;It was not only our barkada that was in half. The class too. TV Prod class has two groups and I miss the other half of the class. We are never complete anymore. Maybe in class for our other subjects (but lately, people are ditching class for some good reasons). And when we're in class, we don't get to talk anymore. Why? Because we are all tired. I'm looking forward to 3CA1's get together! Tara naaa!:)&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I am tired but I am so lucky to have even just a few hours of rest. For the past 3 weeks, we've been relaxing every saturday (my friends and I). Haha. We're not always complete but still, we get to have a few hours break from the real world. Although sometimes, or most of the time, we talk about TV Prod. Haha. O and lovelife too :)) Hahaha. Nice huh? That's why I'm re-energized. Because I get to take a little break, just sitting down, talking, drinking, eating, laughing. It's nice. And I want to have to relax more. But soon, soon. For now, life's treating me good with these works and all. Because no matter how hectic our sched is, how busy we can get, how hard the works can be, I have so many people to be thankful for. 3CA1, of course, my friends, my barkada, and my family (na super namimiss ko na because basically, I haven't been with them for how many weeks now. Yes, I go home but I'm still preoccupied there).&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Anyway, the other half, the pancake? I don't have them yet. But I will, soon. I know, soon. :)&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Other half.&lt;br&gt;Breath.&lt;br&gt;Pancakes for midnight snacks. :)&lt;br&gt;   &lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-8408713540039691571?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/8408713540039691571/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=8408713540039691571' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/8408713540039691571'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/8408713540039691571'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2009/08/of-other-half-and-pancakes-for-midnight.html' title='Of the other half and pancakes for midnight snacks.'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-6299863982854278609</id><published>2009-07-25T05:09:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-07-25T09:09:41.564+08:00</updated><title type='text'>TWO MUTUALLY IN LOVE HEARTS.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img style="width: 350px;height: 263px;" src="http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/cute.jpg"&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;HAPPINESS isn't so easy to achieve. Heartbreaks are everywhere with the vulnerability of hearts. But you see, God is so great that He gave you each other. Happiness like no other can offer, and no heartbreaks that can tear you souls apart. Yes, to be in a relationship is hard. To maintain it is even harder. But look at you now, it's your second year together and still counting. You give your best efforts to remain together. I couldn't see anything that can hinder you from keeping your promise of forever. Life doesn't offer much but you guys know how to make the best out of anything and everything. It always paints a smile on my face whenever I see you both, hugging each other, happily holding hands, and lovingly speaks with each other. I've been with you not just in happy times, I also saw you struggle to remain in there, where both of you are strongly holding on. You love each other more than anything in the world and I'm a very glad witness to that. 2 years is not that long if you look at it, but in this world, to have 2 long years is already a gift. More gifts to go, dearests! Stay as strong as you are, hold on tighter, love even more. I am always here for you. You both know how much I want, as much as you do, your relationship to work. Few more years and we'll all be in a church for your wedding day. I can't wait! I know it's not going to be easy but I know you'll make it. There will be rough roads, hard obstacles, but know that there are a lot of people, and I'm on top of the list, to support you. Keep your hearts beating for each other and no one can take you away from each other.&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img style="width: 350px;height: 261px;" src="http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/marshmallow-at-home.jpg"&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;My heart beats because you guys make me believe so. I am happy whenever I see you both holding on to each other. I love you both oh so much. :) &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-style: italic;color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;HAPPY HAPPY SECONd YEAR ANNIVERSARY! :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img style="width: 350px;height: 261px;" src="http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/PICT0260.jpg"&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mp3glam.com" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://mp3glam.com/images/purple.gif"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mp3glam.com" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;embed allowscriptaccess="never" src="http://mp3glam.com/lib/flash/player.swf" allowfullscreen="true" flashvars="height=20&amp;width=300&amp;file=http://youtube.com/watch?v=jxVZYYc8eyk&amp;backcolor=0x1E0B02&amp;frontcolor=0x49A3FF&amp;lightcolor=0x87B6CD&amp;volume=90&amp;searchbar=false&amp;autostart=true&amp;repeat=false" width="300" height="20"&gt; &lt;br&gt; &lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="width: 250px;text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mp3glam.com" target="_blank"&gt; &lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://mp3glam.com" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 204);"&gt;Mp3 Codes @ mp3glam.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-6299863982854278609?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/6299863982854278609/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=6299863982854278609' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/6299863982854278609'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/6299863982854278609'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2009/07/two-mutually-in-love-hearts.html' title='TWO MUTUALLY IN LOVE HEARTS.'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-4766708323901644373</id><published>2009-04-08T17:26:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-04-08T21:26:12.629+08:00</updated><title type='text'>What now?</title><content type='html'>Happiness is a choice.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Yan ang sabi ng isang kaibigan saken. Although I must admit, medyo nahihirapan akong patunayan yan ngayon. Yet, here I am writing a blog of some things in my mind with a smile on my face. A very special thanks to ER who gave me a link of a video that made my day! &lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;font-weight: bold;"&gt;Watch it: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BhYFRxDeLmc&amp;feature=related&lt;/span&gt; and laugh your heart out!&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-style: italic;"&gt;Life is unfair&lt;/span&gt;. Dad said that to me a couple of nights ago. I believe so. You see, I haven't done anything wrong in this life..no, I'm not a saint or anything like it. It's just that I know, I've been the best person I can be. I've learned from my mistakes, I grew up and matured in a good way, I did the best I can to turn into a fine young lady. But life is simply unfair.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I'm not asking too much from life. In fact, I used to say that I am contented with what I have in my life. I feel blessed with my family, I feel lucky to have my friends from everywhere..and although right now I have no special someone, I know he's just out there.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;All I want from life is happiness.&lt;/span&gt; If you know me too well, you'll agree on this. I don't even want to be super rich! I just want to be super happy...where my family's great, my friends are there, and my other half with me.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;But now that I'm thinking about it, I haven't got everything right all at the same time. It's always one aspect in my life is not right.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I used to be so scared of being so happy because I know, it's always going to be the worst sadness after. And I'm always right. Then I started to ignore that thought. I didn't care if I was being too happy at the time and if I'll be sad for the next days. I did not mind because I started to believe that I should feel the happiness while it's there. It was better, I tell you. Yet here I am again. This may sound so emo but I really am scared to be very happy again. Although I badly want to be happy, I'm scared of what it'll be exchanged with. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Lahat kasi may kapalit eh. Lahat na lang, binabawi rin. &lt;/span&gt;I want to live life with all its happiness. But what's it going to be after?&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;When was the last time that you were truly happy?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-weight: bold;"&gt; Truth is, I really don't know.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/span&gt;   &lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-4766708323901644373?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/4766708323901644373/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=4766708323901644373' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/4766708323901644373'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/4766708323901644373'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2009/04/what-now.html' title='What now?'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-2867626196940876503</id><published>2009-04-06T08:16:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-04-06T12:16:13.923+08:00</updated><title type='text'>GALIT AKO. (rant blog to so dont bother opening)</title><content type='html'>Hindi ako madaling magalit. Pero sa oras na toh, galit ako!!!&lt;br&gt;Hindi lang ako galit, ang bigat din sa pakiramdam..ang sakit.&lt;br&gt;fdalkjfdlkj fioe ue ufdjgk dslakf mei ufcjlkgfhd apirej fdlkjhgd&lt;br&gt;Hindi ako sigurado sa mga bagay bagay pero jdfl kj dslmkfewior832u9875r487yeiur&lt;br&gt;gusto kong sumigaw.&lt;br&gt;sheeeeeeeeet.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;:'(&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;dfja fiewu r3928 r843hf f woeiu dsjflkdsj hfuewoiu;jdfk hgflsuafjwemoruifmlkjsdgywo8eru fn;slkfhkghvnoamfue;s&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;tang inaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa.&lt;br&gt;   &lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-2867626196940876503?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/2867626196940876503/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=2867626196940876503' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/2867626196940876503'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/2867626196940876503'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2009/04/galit-ako-rant-blog-to-so-dont-bother.html' title='GALIT AKO. (rant blog to so dont bother opening)'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-3471627724424406760</id><published>2009-04-06T06:16:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-04-06T10:16:40.952+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Gatas at Keso</title><content type='html'>Hindi maganda ang umpisa ng linggong ito para sakin. Lunes ngayon at sa paniniwala ng nakararami, ito ang unang araw ng linggo. Kaya ayaw ko sanang maging masama ito dahil may paniniwala ako na pag masama ang Lunes, masama na ang buong linggo.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Hindi ko malaman kung anong dahilan ng pagkalungkot ko. Kagabi ay kasama ko pa ang mga kaibigan ko na kelan ko lang nakilala ang ilan. Masaya kagabi. Nagkukwentuhan pa kami, nagtawanan, naglakad lakad at nagbiruan.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Pero bigla na lang, parang tumigil ang mundo ko. Mga bandang alas-10 ng gabi yon. Umupo ako at napahinto sa lahat ng ginagawa. Para akong nawala sa mundo. Para akong nakulong sa isang silid na wala ni isang butas na magpapapasok ng hangin. Nag-isip ako ngunit hindi ko na maalala kung anong mga bagay ang mga naglaro sa utak ko. Basta ang alam ko, nanghina na ako pagkatapos non. Tila lahat ng lakas ko ay nahigop ng kung ano mang elemento. Bumigat ang pakiramdam ko. May kirot na naramdaman sa loob. Pinilit kong maging maayos kagabi. Umuwi ako, nagpahinga at nanood. Akala ko madadaan sa pahinga. Akala ko napagod lang ako. Pero ewan ko, paggising ko mabigat pa rin ang pakiramdam ko. Gusto kong pumunta sa isang lugar na makakasigaw ako. Gusto kong iiyak ang bigat na nasa loob ko. Ngunit ang tanong na naglalaro pa rin sa isip ko hanggang ngayon, 'Bakit ba ako malungkot?'&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Pagkatapos ko dito sa blog na ito, pupunta ako sa kusina at kakain ng agahan. May gatas at keso. Uumpisahan ko nang maging masaya. Ayoko kasi toh eh. Ayokong nalulungkot.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Iinom ako ng gatas at kakain ako ng puto na may keso.&lt;br&gt;   &lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-3471627724424406760?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/3471627724424406760/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=3471627724424406760' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/3471627724424406760'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/3471627724424406760'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2009/04/gatas-at-keso.html' title='Gatas at Keso'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-6208282621212619214</id><published>2009-04-01T20:06:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-04-02T00:06:25.225+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tired but feeling great</title><content type='html'>I'm really really tired. I slept at 4 in the morning a while ago, then woke up at 5:30 to fix myself and prepare so I won't be late for my clearance.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;It's pre-pageant day and I'm so nervous about this. This is my first (and I think my last!) time to join such. I'm tired. I'm really really tired. Hindi pa ako nakakapagpahinga from all the school works of the latter part of the second sem, tapos everyday practice at late night uwi na for mmtp.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Pero you know what's great about this? It's having people with you all through out the fight. Win or lose, I don't really mind. Kasi people with me on this are more than enough for me.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Yung simpleng good luck and hugs from my friends sa Manila.&lt;br&gt;Yung mga text messages na good luck from people who matters to me.&lt;br&gt;Yung mga taong nanood at sumigaw at nagcheer for me, especially my dear best friend,&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Aina&lt;/span&gt;, who watched, took pictures and captured the video, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Benjo &lt;/span&gt;was with her who made sure I had the proper criticisms..and of course, my &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;dear family&lt;/span&gt; who watched and cheered!&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Yes, I am without a doubt tired but I am also definitely feeling great :)&lt;br&gt;Eto yung feeling na gustung gusto kong nararamdaman.&lt;br&gt;Feeling ko super special na ako.&lt;br&gt;Hehehe.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;La la la la la la la la :)&lt;br&gt;   &lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-6208282621212619214?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/6208282621212619214/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=6208282621212619214' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/6208282621212619214'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/6208282621212619214'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2009/04/tired-but-feeling-great.html' title='Tired but feeling great'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-5505560895507653528</id><published>2009-03-25T21:42:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-03-26T01:42:48.091+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I have a bruise.</title><content type='html'>I walked pass the trees and bushes at the park nearby our house. I made a way for myself to reach the high ladder of the public slide. I was excited about it. I wanted to try it since it was placed there.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I held the bars tightly, but not too much. I reached for the next as I climbed one step higher in each movement. My hands are sweaty, and add that I'm nervous. I'm alone. No one is at the end to catch me if I fell. I'm scared. Nevertheless, I continued.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;There were other people in the park. I paused my climbing and stared at some other kids. They were with their Mom's and/or Dad's. A few seconds of staring and then I went back to my business. '&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I wish Mom was here&lt;/span&gt;', was all I said to myself.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Then the scene of the earlier conversation I had with Mom that day, I kept bugging Mom to let me play in the park. She was hesitant, of course. But I persuaded her and she gave me her doubtful '&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;yes&lt;/span&gt;'.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I continued my steps and I was about to reach the top when my fingers slipped. I tried to hold the bars but my hands panicked and I felt like the world was in total darkness. I fell too fast, like all my efforts of the past 3 minutes to reach where I was suddenly disappeared in a snap. Before I know it, I was on the ground, with my foot broke, I guess, and my head spinning. I tried to stand up but I was too weak. I feel like my body is glued on the grassy but hard soil.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Kids started to surround me. I saw a hand that offered to me to lift me up. I gladly reached for it and I was able to sit down. I looked at the face of the person who helped me, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;a little boy, probably my age, whose got those tiny little eyes, maybe a little more closer than mine, with a shoulder-length black hair, which is a little shorter than mine, and whose smile simply made me feel better.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;'&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;What's your name?&lt;/span&gt;', the boy asked.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;'&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Sab&lt;/span&gt;', I said in my shaky voice.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;'&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Are you hurt?&lt;/span&gt;', he said as he tried to lift me to help me stand up.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;'&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I'm fine&lt;/span&gt;', I said as I tried to clear my throat.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;'&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I just want to go home.&lt;/span&gt;', I continued.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I started walking my way back to our house. I was teary-eyed. I know Mom will get angry with me. I should've been extra careful. Yes, just extra careful. I do not regret going to the park and trying to climb the big slide. I just wished I was extra careful. She would be angry. Of course, she's my mom.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I went inside the house. I wanted to go to dad first but he was watching tv. I did not want to disturb him because I know he loves watching tv too much. I was about to go to Mom when she suddenly approached me. She saw the bruise I had in my arm, which I did not really see when I was in the park.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;'&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;What happened?&lt;/span&gt;', mom said in her high toned voice.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I was on the verge of crying. I wanted to cry out loud but I was scared of Mom. She would just be angrier if I cried hard. '&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I fell while climbing the slide&lt;/span&gt;', I said in a very soft manner.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Mom started telling me the usual, '&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I told you this blah blah blah..&lt;/span&gt;' and her '&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;You should have blah blah blah...&lt;/span&gt;' I was listening, really. But I cannot control the tears anymore so they bursted out. I hate how she makes me feel so wrong when in truth, I did not do anything wrong. It was an accident. Yes, I could've done something better, like be extra more careful but I wanted to climb the slide. I wanted to play. I wanted to feel the feeling of going up there and going down with all the adrenaline rush I can have. I don't want to know that I made a mistake. I just wanted to experience something...on my own.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I rushed to my dad and I made him see my bruise. He held it and brushed it a little with his fingers. he held my arm, like he was trying to cast a spell on it to make it heal. But my daddy's not a magician, a fairy god father, or not anything like it. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-style: italic;"&gt;He was plainly and amazingly my dad.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;'&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;It's okay, sweetheart. It's going to heal.&lt;/span&gt;', he said in the tone I loved hearing. It was as if it carried a spell on it, like it can remove any pain I felt, physically and emotionally.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;'&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Next time you go there, be sure you know what to do okay? You should learn your lesson.&lt;/span&gt;', my dad added after maybe a minute of trying to calm me down. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I nodded to him and said my sincerest sorry. He smiled at me as he said in a soft voice, '&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Don't say sorry. It was no one's fault. You just wanted to play, sweetheart. But please careful next time okay?&lt;/span&gt;'&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I went to my room to put some medication in my bruise. It will heal, just like what my dad said. I trust his words. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;But then, would my other bruise heal? The one that I got with Mom?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;*******&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I remembered all of these while I was cleaning my room. I'm about to move out. That incident happened when I was 7 or 8. I would not forget about that because that was the very first time that I went to the park alone. And that was the exact day when I started telling myself that for every bruise or every wound, like what my dad said, '&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;it will heal.&lt;/span&gt;' After that day, I became more confident and I became a little braver as each day passed. I did not mind getting bruises. They'll surely heal anyway.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I haven't seen the little boy in the park after my accident. Up until this moment, I still wonder what his name is, where he lives, and if I'll see him again, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;t&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;hat little boy who's probably my age, whose got those tiny little eyes, maybe a little more closer than mine, with a shoulder-length black hair, just an inch or two shorter than mine, and whose smile simply made me feel better.&lt;/span&gt;. I just hope that wherever he is, he knows that someone like me, someone he helped in standing up, exists. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;And if love at first sight is true at all, I guess I'm one of the witnesses.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;**not a true story&lt;br&gt;   &lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-5505560895507653528?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/5505560895507653528/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=5505560895507653528' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/5505560895507653528'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/5505560895507653528'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2009/03/i-have-bruise.html' title='I have a bruise.'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-4454000636735567343</id><published>2009-03-24T22:03:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-03-25T02:03:48.097+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Because i'm still wide awake!</title><content type='html'>&lt;font size="2"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;So here comes my midnight-staying-up habit. I want to sleep pero I can't sleep eh. I don't know why. Probably because my grades are bothering me. Demmet. Whatever.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;I'm not really sure if i've done this before but I'm doing it, anyway.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Haha.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family: Verdana;"&gt;A HUNDRED THINGS ABOUT ME&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;font style="font-family: Verdana;" size="2"&gt;001. Real name → MARIA CARMELA CAYANAN YUMUL&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font style="font-family: Verdana;" size="2"&gt;002. Nickname(s) → MEL, MELA, MELAI..&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font style="font-family: Verdana;" size="2"&gt;003. Status → I AM SINGLE.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font style="font-family: Verdana;" size="2"&gt;004. Zodiac sign → GEMINI&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font style="font-family: Verdana;" size="2"&gt;005. Male or female → FEMALE&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font style="font-family: Verdana;" size="2"&gt;006. Elementary → Holy Family Academy&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font style="font-family: Verdana;" size="2"&gt;007. Middle School → WHAT?!&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font style="font-family: Verdana;" size="2"&gt;008. High School → Holy Family Academy&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font style="font-family: Verdana;" size="2"&gt;010. Hair color → BLACK&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font style="font-family: Verdana;" size="2"&gt;011. Long or short → I THINK I CAN SAY IT'S LONG.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font style="font-family: Verdana;" size="2"&gt;012. Loud or Quiet → LOUD. HAHAHA&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font style="font-family: Verdana;" size="2"&gt;013. Sweats or Jeans → JEANS.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font style="font-family: Verdana;" size="2"&gt;014. Phone or Camera → BOTH!HAHA.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font style="font-family: Verdana;" size="2"&gt;015. Health freak -&gt; NOOOOO. NEVER WAS AND NEVER WILL!&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font style="font-family: Verdana;" size="2"&gt;017. Do you have a crush on someone? YEAH, I DEFINITELY DO :)&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font style="font-family: Verdana;" size="2"&gt;018. Eat or Drink → BOTH. KAINIS TOH AH. HAHAHA&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font style="font-family: Verdana;" size="2"&gt;019. Piercings → ONE ON EACH EAR.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font style="font-family: Verdana;" size="2"&gt;020. Tattoos → NONE.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font style="font-family: Verdana;" size="2"&gt;021. Water or Fire → WATER!&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font style="font-family: Verdana;" size="2"&gt;022. Love of your life or 4 Billion Dollars → DAHIL CHEESY AKO, SIYEMPRE LOVE OF MY LIFE. AT AYOKO KAYA NG SOBRANG YAMAN. DUH. HAHAHA.&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font style="font-family: Verdana;" size="2"&gt;023. First fear → EWAN? HAHA. SABI NI LOLA YUNG MATANDANG BABAENG FAITH HEALER. LOL.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font style="font-family: Verdana;" size="2"&gt;024. First best friends → CAN'T REMEMBER. SI ADIER, FIRST REAL FRIEND KO :D&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font style="font-family: Verdana;" size="2"&gt;025. First award → WITH HONORS, GRADE 1.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font style="font-family: Verdana;" size="2"&gt;026. First crush → MELVIN ALDRIN B. PAMINTUAN. PREP KAMI NON. SEATMATES KAMI :)) HAHAHA. MISS YOU, DHOI! (ok so mababasa niya toh eh noh? haha.)&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font style="font-family: Verdana;" size="2"&gt;027. First pet → PACHI, MY CUTE LITTLE DOG.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font style="font-family: Verdana;" size="2"&gt;028. First big vacation → EWAN. BAGUIO? OR PANGASINAN? I CANT REMEMBER, MAN. HAHA.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font style="font-family: Verdana;" size="2"&gt;030. First big birthday → MY FIRST BIRTHDAY :)&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font style="font-family: Verdana;" size="2"&gt;THIS OR THAT:&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font style="font-family: Verdana;" size="2"&gt;031. Orange or Apple Juice? → I'M LIKING THE NESTEA FIT, APPLE YUN EH. SO APPLE. HAHA.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font style="font-family: Verdana;" size="2"&gt;032. Rock or Rap? → ROCK OVER RAP.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font style="font-family: Verdana;" size="2"&gt;033. Country or Screamo? → COUNTRY&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font style="font-family: Verdana;" size="2"&gt;034. N'Sync or Backsteet Boys? → NSYNC :)&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font style="font-family: Verdana;" size="2"&gt;035. Britney Spears or Christina Aguliera? → EITHER.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font style="font-family: Verdana;" size="2"&gt;037. Sun or Moon? → MOON.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font style="font-family: Verdana;" size="2"&gt;038. TV or Internet? → I NEED BOTH. HAHA.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font style="font-family: Verdana;" size="2"&gt;039. PlayStation or Xbox? → PLAYSTATION.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font style="font-family: Verdana;" size="2"&gt;040. Kiss or Hug? → MORE OF HUGS AKO EH :)&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font style="font-family: Verdana;" size="2"&gt;041. Iguana or Turtle? → WALA? HAHA.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font style="font-family: Verdana;" size="2"&gt;042. Spider or Bee? → UGH, WALA DIN?&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font style="font-family: Verdana;" size="2"&gt;043. Fall or Spring? → FALL..KUNG MERON MAN DITO SA PINAS:))&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font style="font-family: Verdana;" size="2"&gt;044. Limewire or iTunes? →  iTUNES.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font style="font-family: Verdana;" size="2"&gt;046. Soccer or Baseball? - HAHAHA. BASKETBALL PWEDE?&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font style="font-family: Verdana;" size="2"&gt;CURRENTLY:&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font style="font-family: Verdana;" size="2"&gt;049. Eating → IT'S ALMOST 2 AM. YOU EXPECT ME TO EAT?HAHA.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font style="font-family: Verdana;" size="2"&gt;050. Drinking → NO.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font style="font-family: Verdana;" size="2"&gt;052. I'm about to → GO TO SLEEP. I HAVE TO NA EH.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font style="font-family: Verdana;" size="2"&gt;053. Listening to → SILENCE. HAHA.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font style="font-family: Verdana;" size="2"&gt;054. Plans for today → PRACTICE.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font style="font-family: Verdana;" size="2"&gt;055. Waiting for → LA LA LA LA LA. EWAN? WALA. HAHA. WAIT, GRADES PALA!&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font style="font-family: Verdana;" size="2"&gt;YOUR FUTURE:&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font style="font-family: Verdana;" size="2"&gt;058. Want kids? → YEAH. DEFINITELY :)&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font style="font-family: Verdana;" size="2"&gt;059. Want to get married? → SABI KO NGA, MAYAMAN MAN AKO O MAHIRAP, IKAKASAL AKO NG 25 YEARS OLD!&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font style="font-family: Verdana;" size="2"&gt;060. Careers in mind → ADVER OR MASS MEDIA.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font style="font-family: Verdana;" size="2"&gt;WHICH IS BETTER WITH A GIRL/BOY:&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font style="font-family: Verdana;" size="2"&gt;068. Lips or eyes → EYES..LIPS. BOTH :)&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font style="font-family: Verdana;" size="2"&gt;070. Shorter or taller? → TALLER, MAN!&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font style="font-family: Verdana;" size="2"&gt;072. Romantic or spontaneous → BOTH. PERO DAHIL CHEESY AKO, SANA ROMANTIC :))&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font style="font-family: Verdana;" size="2"&gt;073. Nice stomach or nice arms → I DONT REALLY CARE.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font style="font-family: Verdana;" size="2"&gt;074. Sensitive or loud → BOTH. HAHA.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font style="font-family: Verdana;" size="2"&gt;075. Hook-up or relationship → RELATIONSHIP.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font style="font-family: Verdana;" size="2"&gt;077. Trouble-maker or hesitant → SOMEWHERE IN THE MIDDLE.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font style="font-family: Verdana;" size="2"&gt;HAVE YOU EVER:&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font style="font-family: Verdana;" size="2"&gt;080. Lost glasses/contacts → NOPE.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font style="font-family: Verdana;" size="2"&gt;081. Ran away from home → I THOUGHT ABOUT IT. HAHA.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font style="font-family: Verdana;" size="2"&gt;082. Held a gun/knife for self defense → NOPE.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font style="font-family: Verdana;" size="2"&gt;083. Killed somebody → NOPE.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font style="font-family: Verdana;" size="2"&gt;084. Been Heart-broken → A COUPLE OF TIMES.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font style="font-family: Verdana;" size="2"&gt;085. Been arrested → NOOOO. HAHA.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font style="font-family: Verdana;" size="2"&gt;087. Cried when someone died → YEAH.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font style="font-family: Verdana;" size="2"&gt;DO YOU BELIEVE IN:&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font style="font-family: Verdana;" size="2"&gt;089. Yourself → I HAVE TO. HAHA.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font style="font-family: Verdana;" size="2"&gt;090. Miracles →  I HAVE FAITH :)&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font style="font-family: Verdana;" size="2"&gt;091. Love at first sight → NOT REALLY.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font style="font-family: Verdana;" size="2"&gt;092. Heaven → YES.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font style="font-family: Verdana;" size="2"&gt;093. Santa Claus → HAHAHAHA. I THINK SO?&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font style="font-family: Verdana;" size="2"&gt;094. Sex on the first date → NOPE.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font style="font-family: Verdana;" size="2"&gt;095. Kiss on the first date → HMM. DEPENDS I GUESS. PERO MAS OKAY KUNG NO :)&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font style="font-family: Verdana;" size="2"&gt;ANSWER TRUTHFULLY:&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font style="font-family: Verdana;" size="2"&gt;097. Is there one person you want to be with right now → I'D BE LYING IF I'LL SAY NO.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font style="font-family: Verdana;" size="2"&gt;098. Are you seriously happy with where you are in life → YES, BUT I'M STRIVING FOR MORE.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font style="font-family: Verdana;" size="2"&gt;099. Do you believe in God → YUUUUUP!&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font style="font-family: Verdana;" size="2"&gt;100. Post as 100 truths and tag 25 people - post na lang noh? hehe.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;   &lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-4454000636735567343?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/4454000636735567343/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=4454000636735567343' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/4454000636735567343'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/4454000636735567343'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2009/03/because-i-still-wide-awake.html' title='Because i&amp;#39;m still wide awake!'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-4698995888048350141</id><published>2009-03-24T08:59:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-03-24T12:59:10.384+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Of waking up on a summer day</title><content type='html'>I slept late, as I have always done every summer of my given life. I sleep late, or I can say early as it is early morning, I wake up late in the range of 11am-1 pm, I eat a lot, I play games..yes, in short, I am a full time bum.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I woke up with my usual 11 o'clock waking time. Yes, it's just the third day of summer vacation and I already wake up this late. What happened to my 7o'clock body clock? It got lost somewhere, I guess. Oh well.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I was texting a friend and we were talking about summer and all and then, there! I realized this is &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;my last bum summer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br&gt;Yes everyone, last bum summer! &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Third year comes, I'd have to get an OJT. And of course, fourth year comes, I'd have to get a real job.&lt;/span&gt; Come on!&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I am excited about this. I want it to come. But a part of me will miss this bum summers. I want to make the most out of this bum summer. So might as well be bum for the rest of the summer. Haha. Kidding, of course. Yeah, I'll try to make the most out of this summer. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I will try.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;So friends, are you happy or kind of sad about this last bum summer? :))&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-4698995888048350141?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/4698995888048350141/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=4698995888048350141' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/4698995888048350141'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/4698995888048350141'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2009/03/of-waking-up-on-summer-day.html' title='Of waking up on a summer day'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-5430206565348247457</id><published>2009-03-22T17:10:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-03-22T21:10:25.366+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Nakakaiyak maghugas ng pinggan</title><content type='html'>Unang araw ng bakasyon. Siyempre, balik na sa buhay bahay. Pagod pa ako mula sa maraming mga pangyayari -ang term paper sa ratpsych, ang mga deadlines na natapos, ang mga reports na pinaghandaan, ang finals, at marami pang mga bagay na ang iba eh wala naman talagang kinalaman sa pag-aaral.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Unang araw ng bakasyon, hindi ko masasabing maayos. Masakit ang loob ko. Napaisip nanaman ako tungkol sa buhay ko.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Pagod ako ngayong araw. May mga bagay na ginawa. Pero hindi naman dapat ganito kabigat ang pakiramdam ko eh. Kaso may nangyari na nakapagpabigat.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Alam ko independent ako. Alam din yan ng mga magulang ko. Sabi nga ng nanay ko, ako yung anak niya na kayang gawin kahit ako na ako lang mag-isa. Kaya ko daw sumali sa contest ng akong mag-isa, kaya kong magpunta ng Manila na akong mag-isa, kaya kong mabuhay na akong mag-isa. Kaya ko daw kahit ako lang mag-isa.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Pero lagi kong sinasabi, hindi ko nagagawa lahat ng gusto ko. Masakit para saken toh. Ang dami kong 'frustrations' sa buhay. Ang dami kong gustong magawa pero hindi ko nagawa at malamang lamang, hindi ko na magagawa. Nung bata ako, gusto kong maging dancer. Oo, frustration ko yan. Gusto kong sumayaw pero hindi talaga ako nabigyan ng pagkakataon, at siguro di rin talaga nabigyan ng talento. Gusto ko rin maging magaling sa isang instrumento. Pero hindi rin ako nabigyan ng pagkakataon. Lagi kong sinasabi nun kina mama, gusto kong maglesson ng ganito, ng ganyan. Sasabihin oo pero hindi naman matutuloy. Laging nangyayari yon, lalo na pag summer.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Ngayong summer na toh, gusto kong matuto ng mga bagay bagay tulad ng pagmamaneho. Gusto ko ring sumama sa mga kaibigan ko sa isang workshop na a-atendan nila. Gusto kong may magawa ngayong summer na ito. Pero malakas ang pakiramdam ko, hindi ko magagawa ang mga toh.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Tulad ng sabi ko kanina, masakit ang loob ko. Bakit? Kasi iniisip ng magulang ko, independent ako. Siguro tama siya pero hindi naman kasi ibig sabihing independent ako, hindi ko na kailangan ng suporta.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;At masakit din ang loob ko kasi iniisip ng mga magulang ko independent ako. Pero hindi ko naman ito lubusang maramdaman. May mga bagay akong gustong gawin pero hindi ko magawa kasi alam kong hindi sila papayag. Gusto kong magkaroon ng kalayaang tuklasin ang mundo. Gusto kong magkaroon ng kalayaang gawin ang mga gusto kong gawin. Pero anak lang kasi ako kaya wala akong magagawa.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Bilib ako sa kapatid ko eh. Kaya niyang hindi sundin ang nanay ko. Kaya niyang maghingi ng permiso nang paulit-ulit kahit paulit-ulit siyang sinasabihan ng hindi. Ako kasi hindi ganon eh. Takot ako. Yung tipong kahit alam kong may chance na papayagan naman ako, takot pa rin akong magpaalam kasi ayokong napapagalitan. Ayoko ding nag-aaway kami ng mga magulang ko. At higit sa lahat, ayokong nasasaktan kasi sa tuwing hihingi ako ng permiso, hinahangad ko na sabihin nila 'oo'.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Tapos sa isang kapatid ko naman, naiinggit ako. Hindi kasi siya independent para sa mga magulang ko eh. Para sakanila, hindi kaya ng kapatid kong mag-isa. Para sakanila, kailangan siyang tutukan kasi kailangan talaga niya. Sabi kanina, magvovoice lesson siya. Tapos maggui-guitar lessons din. Gusto yun ng kapatid ko. Natutuwa ako para sakanya.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Pero sa loob ko, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;nalulungkot ako para sa sarili ko.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Summer? Bahala na kung ano ang mangyayari.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;   &lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-5430206565348247457?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/5430206565348247457/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=5430206565348247457' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/5430206565348247457'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/5430206565348247457'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2009/03/nakakaiyak-maghugas-ng-pinggan.html' title='Nakakaiyak maghugas ng pinggan'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-6917161231822647046</id><published>2009-03-13T14:21:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-03-13T18:21:51.812+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm up!</title><content type='html'>Life is a constant roller coaster ride. There are adrenaline-rushing moments where you just have to shout to the top of your lungs to survive the thrill..and there are those moments when things are kind of slowing down a bit to let you give space to your breathing.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;You can go have your own interpretation for that. Mine is not constant either. But as for now, I can say that the adrenaline-rush is all over me again. I'm up! A lot of things are happening..school, friends, and other things. Academically, I'm pressured. I have to meet a certain grade. I need, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;as in badly need&lt;/span&gt; to get good grades. I don't want to disappoint my parents, especially my dad. But even though things are like this. It's fine. I like what I do so I'm ok with it. Although I complain a lot...hahahahaha. Yeah I complain a lot but like I always say, I need pressure to survive. It can be satisfying, especially when you gain something..achievements and all. It's wonderful.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;And then I have my friends. Come on! I'm so glad we're finally back to how we were before. We've been through hell and yup, I still have my &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;text-decoration: underline;"&gt;ArAlVince&lt;/span&gt;! Plus the added friends I have now. I don't need to name names. You guys know who you are. I'm happy I'm part of the group :) Love you!&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;And my &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Brezh,Joan, ER and Margo&lt;/span&gt;. I have not been spending time with you lately but I hope we can still catch up. I miss you and I love you guys. Always! :)&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-weight: bold;"&gt;Space here :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I'm enjoying the feeling of being here. I'm enjoying the thrill. I like this. Really. I want to prolong it. More, more, more! :))&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;I've been so busy lately..and I just thought I'd sit down and think for a while. So here I am.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Summer vacation is almost here. So I'll be having some..uhm, stagnant kind of life again? Hopefully not. Oh well. I'll try not to have that. Hahahah.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;That's my roller coaster ride story. What's yours?:)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;   &lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-6917161231822647046?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/6917161231822647046/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=6917161231822647046' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/6917161231822647046'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/6917161231822647046'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2009/03/i-up.html' title='I&amp;#39;m up!'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-592841592436865121</id><published>2009-03-07T16:01:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-03-07T21:02:00.324+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I am just ranting.</title><content type='html'>I'm tired.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;So yeah, that's the gist of this. For the past month, I have been so busy with school works and blaaah. No really, they're just school works. You see, I am a communication arts major and my major subject for this sem is &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-style: italic;"&gt;Broadcast Media&lt;/span&gt;..not &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;RATIONAL PSYCHOLOGY&lt;/span&gt;. Although I'm partly to blame about this situation. I did not start early that's why here I am, tired and cramming. I have my reasons. Well, yeah they may be lame but hell, it's rational psych!I'm just really required to take it. Although yeah, it's an interesting subject. I like listening to philosophies and wisdom..but gosh, it's just really a burden to write &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;two&lt;/span&gt;, yes two, not one, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;term papers&lt;/span&gt; for this subject! Funny, it's not my major but it pressures me the most. And I think, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Maam Faye&lt;/span&gt; felt how tired we are this sem and she did not give us a really heavy requirement for our finals(Thanks, Ma!Love you!).&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I had breakfast with Alvin awhile ago and we were talking about this. He's tired. We are all tired. He said this thing about,"&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;naglalakad ako at hindi ko namamalayan, pabigat na nang pabigat yung dala ko..hindi ko na alam ano ang iiwan ko at dadalhin ko pa rin.&lt;/span&gt;"&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;It's just really frustrating. Nakakainis na. Seriously. Everyone's on the verge of crying..and dropping this subject! Hindi naman talaga kami super stressed kung wala 'toh eh. Yeah, we have deadlines in line..requirements and all that but hey, it's fine because we know it's our field.But this? What the hell, di ba?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;But yeah, it's life.&lt;br&gt;Nakakapagod lang talaga.&lt;br&gt;Sobrang nakakapagod na.&lt;br&gt;At nakakaiyak na.&lt;br&gt;Nakakasakit na sa feeling yung pagod.&lt;br&gt;Noon naman napapagod din ako eh. Pero iba 'toh.&lt;br&gt;Hay.&lt;br&gt;   &lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-592841592436865121?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/592841592436865121/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=592841592436865121' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/592841592436865121'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/592841592436865121'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2009/03/i-am-just-ranting.html' title='I am just ranting.'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-2364093621818608207</id><published>2009-02-28T05:42:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-02-28T10:42:28.271+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Would I not?</title><content type='html'>I formed a smile on my lips when I flipped the last page of the book I was reading for a while now to close it. I sighed in relief. ‘&lt;i style=""&gt;Finally, I’m done with it.&lt;/i&gt;’, I said to myself. All the happenings in the books, the adventures, the conflicts and everything else, rushed back in my thoughts as I walked to the shelf to put the book back to its place. It was a good read, indeed. Although it quite made me feel bad, it still had this impact in me; a good impact, that is. I don’t regret having to read it and finishing it. It made me smile, it made me cry, it made me feel better at times I thought I was not feeling that well, it made me imagine the things I never imagined before. It was creatively done and I can say, the author worked hard for it.&lt;font size="2"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/font&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;Thoughts of this book banished when I opened the shelf and saw another book. It looked interesting; the cover, the title, and the summary it had at the back. It quite impressed me and had me curious on the spot. I surveyed its cover and I read the author’s name. I smiled and then I remembered I know him. I’ve read his last book and true, it was a good one. I held the book in my hand and I stopped moving for a while. I had to think if I want to read it now. And then I thought, ‘No that is not the question.’ I want to read the book. Really, I do. I have this feeling that the book is trying to shout at me and say, ‘&lt;i style=""&gt;Hey, I’m a good book. Read me.&lt;/i&gt;’ But I had lots of things to finish. I had a term paper due, I had a requirement in line for finishing, I had appointments and meetings. I paused and stared at the book. I held it tightly in my hands. I looked back at its place in the shelf. I tried to think about the perfect question that I had to ask myself before I decide. After a few seconds, or maybe it was already a minute, I got the question in my head and it was playing back over and over and over. I had to let out a sigh, a sign that I’m coming up with an answer.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;'&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Would I not?&lt;/span&gt;'&lt;br&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;I went back to my seat and fixed my things. I have decided what to do with the book. I smiled to myself and just said, ‘&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;God, I hope this would be a good one.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;’&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-2364093621818608207?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/2364093621818608207/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=2364093621818608207' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/2364093621818608207'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/2364093621818608207'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2009/02/would-i-not.html' title='Would I not?'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-7655054667696657682</id><published>2009-02-27T17:30:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-02-27T22:31:01.443+08:00</updated><title type='text'>May mga bagay na nakakapagod talaga.</title><content type='html'>Minsan may mga bagay na sadyang pinapagod ka na lang. Minsan kahit gaano mo pa kagusto ito, nakakapagod na lang kapag nasosobrahan ka na lang.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Ngayon namin napagkasunduan na gumawa ng RC project namin na El Fili Film. Nagising ako ng maaga, umabot sa call time, nagbiyahe papuntang Pampanga (dahil dito ang location namin), naghanda para magshoot, nag-ayos ng mga dapat ayusin, tumawa, nag-isip, kumain, umupo, tumayo..lahat na. Nakakapagod, nakakapanlata. Ang hirap kasi hindi kami masyadong natutuwa sa RC. Hindi naman kasi major 'toh eh, feeling major lang. Anyway, eto, pagkatapos ng napakahabang araw, ako, pati na ang iba kong kagrupo, ay nakakaramdam ng sobrang pagod.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Pero hindi dahil pagod kami, wala ng ibang naramadaman. Ako, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;masaya ako&lt;/span&gt;. Na-enjoy ko ang araw na ito kahit pagod kami, kahit maraming ginawa, at kahit alam kong bukas ay marami pa akong gagawin. Masaya ako sa bawat halakhak, sa bawat tawanan, sa bawat shot, sa bawat kain, sa bawat pag-inom..sa lahat. Mula pagkagising ko, natutuwa na ako sa araw na ito. Kahit na sa pagpunta namin sa Pampanga eh maraming mga "&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;stop overs&lt;/span&gt;", natutuwa pa rin ako sa araw na ito.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Minsan kasi, may mga bagay na nakakapagod, lalo na kung ayaw mo naman ang dahilan mo ng paggawa mo nito. Pero dahil gusto mo naman ang paraan ng paggawa nito, matutuwa ka na rin..minsan, hindi mo namamalayan, sobra pa pala.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Pero hindi lahat ng bagay nagbibigay ng tuwa. May mga bagay na sadyang nakakapagod na at alam mong kailangan nang itigil. Kung ipagpapatuloy mo pa ang pagpapagod mo, wala ka nang mapapala. Kaya mas maiging tumigil ka na. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Yan ang napag-isip-isip ko sa nagdaang linggo. Hindi lahat ng bagay kaya mong habaan ang pagkabuhay. May mga bagay na &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;text-decoration: underline;"&gt;sadyang hanggang doon na lang&lt;/span&gt;. May bagay akong na-&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;realize&lt;/span&gt; kong pagod na pala ako. Ilang pag-ulit din ang ginawa ko bago ko tuluyang naitatak sa isip ko na ayoko na ngang mapagod pa.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Ngayon, masaya ako. Ngumingiti ako, humahalakhak..marami mang ginagawa at pagod na..&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-style: italic;"&gt;ang mga bagay na meron ako ngayon ay higit pa sa sapat na nagbibigay sakin ng saya :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Move on, because I already did. I'm proud of that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;   &lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-7655054667696657682?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/7655054667696657682/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=7655054667696657682' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/7655054667696657682'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/7655054667696657682'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2009/02/may-mga-bagay-na-nakakapagod-talaga.html' title='May mga bagay na nakakapagod talaga.'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-1484741946330031853</id><published>2009-02-20T19:29:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-02-21T00:29:44.895+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I want a cupcake with honey syrup on top.</title><content type='html'>“&lt;span style="font-style: italic;color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Have you ever been in love? Horrible isn't it? &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;It makes you so vulnerable.&lt;/span&gt; It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up&lt;/span&gt;. You build up all these defenses, you build up a whole suit of armor, so that nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;wanders into your stupid life&lt;/span&gt;...You give them a piece of you. They didn't ask for it. T&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;hey did something dumb one day, like kiss you or smile at you&lt;/span&gt;, and then your l&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;ife isn't your own anymore&lt;/span&gt;. Love takes hostages. It gets inside you. It eats you out and leaves you crying in the darkness, so simple a phrase like 'maybe we should be just friends' turns into a glass splinter working its way into your heart. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;It hurts. Not just in the imagination.&lt;/span&gt; Not just in the mind. It's a soul-hurt, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain&lt;/span&gt;. I hate love.&lt;/span&gt;"&lt;br&gt;&lt;br style="text-decoration: underline;font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;---&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;font-weight: bold;"&gt;Neil Gaiman&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/span&gt;He's right. Love can blind us to it's first form, the happiness, the joy, the euphoric feeling. And then in one snap, it will leave you wounded, shattered in a cliff, hanging, hurt, scarred.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;But have you ever wondered why we give love another try whenever it knocks? Because no wounded, shattered in a cliff, hanging, hurt, scarred feeling can ever dominate over the happiness of finding someone to be there for you,someone who will be there to stay with you in your darkest times, to stay with you in your highest moments, to love you despite your imperfections, to fight for you when you can't just stand up anymore. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Nothing, not a single thing can be compared to the feeling of finding and having the person you want to and you will spend the rest of &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;forever &lt;/span&gt;with.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Life is too complex to it's simplicities(Gabe Bondoc), but when love is there, you simply find everything in its right place, in its proper order, no matter how chaotic your world is.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;So if you're wondering why people still go back to people who hurt them, or why people still give love another try, or why people simply fall in love..I'm sorry but you just can't answer that with words. You have to feel it, you have to have it. Find the answers on your own. Feel the joy of falling in love, feel the pain of having to let go of someone you thought you'd have forever. Only then will you be able to understand the complexities of life..and of love.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Love will always be one of the two ingredients that make my chaotic world worth living.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br&gt;The other one is you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-1484741946330031853?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/1484741946330031853/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=1484741946330031853' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/1484741946330031853'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/1484741946330031853'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2009/02/i-want-cupcake-with-honey-syrup-on-top.html' title='I want a cupcake with honey syrup on top.'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-7158442076375305763</id><published>2009-02-20T16:33:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-02-20T21:33:18.366+08:00</updated><title type='text'>When is enough, enough?</title><content type='html'>I took a bite of the sweet looking, delicious cupcake which I saw on top of my desk. I just woke up and I grabbed the cupcake from the fridge and placed it there for a while. I washed my face first and fixed my bed before I took my first bite. It was the taste that I've been craving for. The cheese on top, the creaminess of the bread, the sweetness of the sugar. Before I knew it, I was already done eating. Gosh, I had to get another one when I finished it. But isn't one enough?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;But when do you say it's enough? When do you know you have to stop? Is it when you can't have something anymore because there's no more left? Or is it when you can't have something anymore because it's already in the hands of someone?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I still wanted another cupcake. I was still in the mood to eat and I was not full yet. I was still enthusiastic about the taste. I walked to the kitchen to get another one. I opened the fridge and got the box of cupcake out. I opened it only to find out, there's no more left. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Should I say I convince myself I already had enough? Or should I go on and buy another box of cupcakes to satisfy my cravings? Should I just be glad that at least I had a taste of it than nothing at all? Or should I insist on buying more to enjoy it more?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Well, I really don't know when is enough enough. There are things better left as already enough. But there are things that can go beyond what you know is enough. You can get another box of cupcake. What harm would it give, right? But what if when you go to the store and have another box, there's no more left? Or what if they're still baking it? Will you be willing to wait? Will you be patient enough to buy that cupcake in that store? Or will you just try to buy from another store?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;You see, when you say it's not yet enough, you have to take note of the risks you'll have to make just to get the enough you want. Sometimes it's easy. But at times, it can be hard. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I want more cupcakes from the same store. There's only a few left. But I think they're still baking more. I'll buy the cupcakes and I guess I'll be waiting 'til the other cupcakes are prepared. I'll be walking for a while, take slow bites of the cupcakes I have, enjoy the air and breathe in the open space. When I come back to the store, I hope the cupcakes are ready to be sold...and I hope they aren't sold out yet. But if they're not available anymore, I guess I'll just go back home. I'll just be glad I had a share of the delicious cupcakes.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;It's not about the cupcake, it's not about the store. It's about me...and when I say it's not enough yet.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;And so that was my &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;emo-ish &lt;/span&gt;craving:)) Hey! I seriously want some cupcakes:))&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div style="width: 300px;"&gt;&lt;object width="300" height="110"&gt;&lt;param name="allowScriptAccess" value="never"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://media.imeem.com/m/3b6TYmhh1R"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed allowscriptaccess="never" src="http://media.imeem.com/m/3b6TYmhh1R" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="300" height="110"&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div style="padding: 1px;background-color: rgb(230, 230, 230);"&gt;&lt;div style="padding: 4px 4px 0pt 0pt;float: left;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imeem.com/"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.imeem.com/embedsearch/E6E6E6/"  ="" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;form method="post" action="http://www.imeem.com/embedsearch/" style="margin: 0pt;padding: 0pt;"&gt;&lt;input name="EmbedSearchBox" type="text"&gt;&lt;input value="Search" style="font-size: 12px;" type="submit"&gt;&lt;div style="padding-top: 3px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imeem.com/ads/banneradclick.ashx?ep=0&amp;ek=3b6TYmhh1R" rel="nofollow"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.imeem.com/ads/bannerad/152/10/" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imeem.com/ads/banneradclick.ashx?ep=1&amp;ek=3b6TYmhh1R" rel="nofollow"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.imeem.com/ads/bannerad/153/10/" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imeem.com/ads/banneradclick.ashx?ep=2&amp;ek=3b6TYmhh1R" rel="nofollow"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.imeem.com/ads/bannerad/154/10/" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imeem.com/ads/banneradclick.ashx?ep=3&amp;ek=3b6TYmhh1R" rel="nofollow"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.imeem.com/ads/bannerad/155/10/3b6TYmhh1R/" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/form&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imeem.com/people/IIbh_9z/music/uuT_5QK4/ashley_tisdale_time_after_time/"&gt;Time After Time - Ashley Tisdale&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-7158442076375305763?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/7158442076375305763/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=7158442076375305763' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/7158442076375305763'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/7158442076375305763'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2009/02/when-is-enough-enough.html' title='When is enough, enough?'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-3119118071422852773</id><published>2009-02-14T21:46:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-02-15T02:46:44.770+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Valentine's Day isn't as ordinary as everyday</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="font-family: Verdana;text-align: center;"&gt;They say love can make a person, even the most intelligent one, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;stupid and foolish&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br&gt;Okay, and so I agree.&lt;br&gt;I don't mind.&lt;br&gt;Because for today, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;stupidity and foolishness&lt;/span&gt; just made me &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;very happy&lt;/span&gt; :)&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;text-decoration: underline;color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;I LOVE YOU.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;Three words can say more than anything else could.&lt;br&gt;Not even lines from movies or in books.&lt;br&gt;Not even the lyrics of any song.&lt;br&gt;Not even words of learned people.&lt;br&gt;Not even the speech of the most intelligent man.&lt;br&gt;Not even words of the most heartfelt poem.&lt;br&gt;Nothing..not even my own words can say more.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div style="width: 300px;"&gt;&lt;object width="300" height="110"&gt;&lt;param name="allowScriptAccess" value="never"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://media.imeem.com/m/A0ZNshn90c"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed allowscriptaccess="never" src="http://media.imeem.com/m/A0ZNshn90c" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="300" height="110"&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div style="padding: 1px;background-color: rgb(230, 230, 230);"&gt;&lt;div style="padding: 4px 4px 0pt 0pt;float: left;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imeem.com/"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.imeem.com/embedsearch/E6E6E6/"  ="" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;form method="post" action="http://www.imeem.com/embedsearch/" style="margin: 0pt;padding: 0pt;"&gt;&lt;input name="EmbedSearchBox" type="text"&gt;&lt;input value="Search" style="font-size: 12px;" type="submit"&gt;&lt;div style="padding-top: 3px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imeem.com/ads/banneradclick.ashx?ep=0&amp;ek=A0ZNshn90c" rel="nofollow"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.imeem.com/ads/bannerad/152/10/" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imeem.com/ads/banneradclick.ashx?ep=1&amp;ek=A0ZNshn90c" rel="nofollow"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.imeem.com/ads/bannerad/153/10/" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imeem.com/ads/banneradclick.ashx?ep=2&amp;ek=A0ZNshn90c" rel="nofollow"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.imeem.com/ads/bannerad/154/10/" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imeem.com/ads/banneradclick.ashx?ep=3&amp;ek=A0ZNshn90c" rel="nofollow"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.imeem.com/ads/bannerad/155/10/A0ZNshn90c/" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/form&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imeem.com/people/LhyWITc/music/mrpy815f/rick_price_heaven_knows_instrumental/"&gt;Heaven Knows (Instrumental) - Rick Price&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br&gt;   &lt;/div&gt;&lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-3119118071422852773?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/3119118071422852773/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=3119118071422852773' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/3119118071422852773'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/3119118071422852773'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2009/02/valentine-day-isn-as-ordinary-as_14.html' title='Valentine&amp;#39;s Day isn&amp;#39;t as ordinary as everyday'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-5762076611385652186</id><published>2009-02-14T21:40:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-02-15T02:40:49.971+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Valentine's Day isn't as ordinary as everyday</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="font-family: Verdana;text-align: center;"&gt;They say love can make a person, even the most intelligent one, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;stupid and foolish&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br&gt;Okay, and so I agree.&lt;br&gt;I don't mind.&lt;br&gt;Because for today, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;stupidity and foolishness&lt;/span&gt; just made me &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;very happy&lt;/span&gt; :)&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;text-decoration: underline;color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;I LOVE YOU.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;Three words can say more than anything else could.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;   &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="width: 300px;text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;object width="300" height="110"&gt;&lt;param name="allowScriptAccess" value="never"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://media.imeem.com/m/0xISNoMXrc"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed allowscriptaccess="never" src="http://media.imeem.com/m/0xISNoMXrc" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="300" height="110"&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div style="padding: 1px;background-color: rgb(230, 230, 230);"&gt;&lt;div style="padding: 4px 4px 0pt 0pt;float: left;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imeem.com/"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.imeem.com/embedsearch/E6E6E6/"  ="" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;form method="post" action="http://www.imeem.com/embedsearch/" style="margin: 0pt;padding: 0pt;"&gt;&lt;input name="EmbedSearchBox" type="text"&gt;&lt;input value="Search" style="font-size: 12px;" type="submit"&gt;&lt;div style="padding-top: 3px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imeem.com/ads/banneradclick.ashx?ep=0&amp;ek=0xISNoMXrc" rel="nofollow"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.imeem.com/ads/bannerad/152/10/" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imeem.com/ads/banneradclick.ashx?ep=1&amp;ek=0xISNoMXrc" rel="nofollow"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.imeem.com/ads/bannerad/153/10/" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imeem.com/ads/banneradclick.ashx?ep=2&amp;ek=0xISNoMXrc" rel="nofollow"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.imeem.com/ads/bannerad/154/10/" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imeem.com/ads/banneradclick.ashx?ep=3&amp;ek=0xISNoMXrc" rel="nofollow"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.imeem.com/ads/bannerad/155/10/0xISNoMXrc/" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/form&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imeem.com/cherrygummy6/music/dY83ikX-/rick_price_heaven_knows_accoustic/"&gt;Heaven Knows (Accoustic) - RICK PRICE&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-5762076611385652186?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/5762076611385652186/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=5762076611385652186' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/5762076611385652186'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/5762076611385652186'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2009/02/valentine-day-isn-as-ordinary-as.html' title='Valentine&amp;#39;s Day isn&amp;#39;t as ordinary as everyday'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-3552222810709593714</id><published>2009-02-13T19:16:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-02-14T00:16:24.279+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm a hopeless romantic, I know.</title><content type='html'>I've always loved Valentine's Day regardless of my status; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;single, waiting, heartbroken, numb&lt;/span&gt;. I guess I've only been bitter, or whatever you call that, about it once. And as I put it into a song, hit Vanessa Carlton's Ordinary Day's first two lines, "&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Just a day, just an ordinary day. Just trying to get by.&lt;/span&gt;" That was in second year high school I guess and I don't remember why I was not affected or I was bitter about it.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;For last year and this year, I'm celebrating the Heart's Day with a broken heart. Oh shoot. I hate saying that. Haha. But that's the truth. No matter how hard I try to hide it, it will always show in ways I can't control. Oh well, I did not blog to rant about this heartache or whatever feeling I have.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Actually, I believe in that quote by Henry David Thoreau, "&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;There is no remedy for love but to love more.&lt;/span&gt;" That's why, I've got plenty of love to give away now. I'm giving love to my family, my friends, people I don't know, anyone who's willing to accept, and even to people who broke my heart. Yes, it's for real.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Love is something that makes people happy. Imagine the feeling of not being loved by anyone in the world, not your parents, family, friends..no one. Ugh, I don't even want to imagine it. It makes me sick. You see, I'm the person who loves to be loved and who's in love with falling in love. I'm very emotional, mushy, cheesy, and yeah, I'm a hopeless romantic lady. I can live in a world where love is everything there is to give and have. I can live in a world where I can be with people I love and who loves me.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;My heart's not in its perfect condition right now. Thanks to that recently agreed upon break up. Crap. Hahaha. No, I'm not bitter about this. Really. Hahaha. Kidding aside, I guess even though I have no special someone for this Valentine's Day, I'm happy. Oh yeah, I AM HAPPY. who wouldn't be happy with the friends I have in Manila? Man, you guys rock!:) The group we have in class, the lunches we have, the jokes and all, thank you guys! And then I still have my dear barkada and I'm loving each and everyone even more...no matter what. Thanks for everything my loves. Plus, I have my friends here in Pampanga. I have Aina, my bestfriend, and of course, Benjo, her boyfriend and now my bestfriend too. How lucky can you get on a Friday the 13th? I am lucky because I got early dates. Hehe. See that? I have lots of love to give and I have lots of recipients.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;But although I have lots of recipients, come on, how cheesy, hopeless romanticn, and mushy can I get? My Valentine's won't be complete without this. Haha. I want flowers, I want skittles (alternative for chocolates), I want a real date, I want a a boyfriend who will do the sweetest things for me on this day . Gosh, I wish I can get what I want. Oh but no. I can't have these wants..not just yet. I know, one day, I'll get these. One day, someone will knock on my door at 7 in the morning of Feb 14, holding a bouquet of flowers and balloons and singing for me. And then of course, I'm in my ugliest state. I just woke up! And then he'll kiss my on my forehead, look me in the eye and tell me how much he loves me, that I mean his everything and his happiness and that he's glad he's spending the Valentine's day with a lady like me, and that he's lucky because he doesn't just have me for Valentine's but for the rest of our lives. Oh gosh. See how hopeless romantic I am? Oh well. That's what Valentine's do to me:)&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Life won't move on without love. And with that, I'd like to voice out my feelings.&lt;br&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;I LOVE YOU.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;I'm saying this to everyone who feels the love I give.&lt;br&gt;My family, friends, classmates, relatives, teachers, professors, etc.&lt;br&gt;I'm saying this to everyone who wants to feel the love I give.&lt;br&gt;Those who feel unloved, have no friends, are not cared.&lt;br&gt;And most especially, I'm saying this to the person I wish I could spend tomorrow with.&lt;br&gt;HIM.&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);font-weight: bold;"&gt;HAPPY HEART'S DAY EVERYONE.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;Give all the love you can. It's always worth it :)&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/ainabenjo092.jpg"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;   &lt;center&gt;&lt;div style="width: 300px;"&gt;&lt;object width="300" height="110"&gt;&lt;param name="allowScriptAccess" value="never"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://media.imeem.com/m/qc71lHOcA1"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed allowscriptaccess="never" src="http://media.imeem.com/m/qc71lHOcA1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="300" height="110"&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div style="padding: 1px;background-color: rgb(230, 230, 230);"&gt;&lt;div style="padding: 4px 4px 0pt 0pt;float: left;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imeem.com/"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.imeem.com/embedsearch/E6E6E6/"  ="" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;form method="post" action="http://www.imeem.com/embedsearch/" style="margin: 0pt;padding: 0pt;"&gt;&lt;input name="EmbedSearchBox" type="text"&gt;&lt;input value="Search" style="font-size: 12px;" type="submit"&gt;&lt;div style="padding-top: 3px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imeem.com/ads/banneradclick.ashx?ep=0&amp;ek=qc71lHOcA1" rel="nofollow"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.imeem.com/ads/bannerad/152/10/" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imeem.com/ads/banneradclick.ashx?ep=1&amp;ek=qc71lHOcA1" rel="nofollow"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.imeem.com/ads/bannerad/153/10/" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imeem.com/ads/banneradclick.ashx?ep=2&amp;ek=qc71lHOcA1" rel="nofollow"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.imeem.com/ads/bannerad/154/10/" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imeem.com/ads/banneradclick.ashx?ep=3&amp;ek=qc71lHOcA1" rel="nofollow"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.imeem.com/ads/bannerad/155/10/qc71lHOcA1/" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/form&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imeem.com/people/TdK18Q4/music/87cetYSt/jon_mclaughlin_so_close/"&gt;So Close - Jon Mclaughlin&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-3552222810709593714?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/3552222810709593714/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=3552222810709593714' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/3552222810709593714'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/3552222810709593714'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2009/02/i-hopeless-romantic-i-know.html' title='I&amp;#39;m a hopeless romantic, I know.'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-1397700516228146318</id><published>2009-02-07T18:36:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-02-07T23:36:53.235+08:00</updated><title type='text'>My true love is a pisces..?</title><content type='html'>Okay so I found this &lt;a href="http://www.blogthings.com/whatsignisyourtruelovequiz/outcome.php"&gt;site&lt;/a&gt; with these random quizzes. I took one quiz and here's the result.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;table style="width: 320px;height: 346px;" align="center" border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0"&gt; &lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="center" bgcolor="#eeeeee"&gt;&lt;font style="color: black;font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Your True Love Is a Pisces &lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/font&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;/tr&gt;     &lt;tr&gt;       &lt;td style="vertical-align: top;"&gt;&lt;br&gt;       &lt;/td&gt;     &lt;/tr&gt; &lt;tr&gt; &lt;td bgcolor="#ffffff"&gt; &lt;center&gt; &lt;img src="http://blogthings.cachefly.net/whatsignisyourtruelovequiz/pisces.jpg" width="100" height="100"&gt; &lt;/center&gt; &lt;font color="#000000"&gt;       &lt;br&gt;       &lt;br&gt; Why you'll love a Pisces:&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; Selfless and intuitive, you are perfect for a Pisces that lives to love you.&lt;br&gt; You're sensitive enough to appreciate and explore the deep emotions of a Pisces.&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; Why a Pisces will love you:&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; You're generous and totally giving in relationships, something Pisces demands.&lt;br&gt; You are also dreamy enough to get lost in fantasy with Pisces, but realistic enough to stay grounded.&lt;br&gt;       &lt;br&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt; &lt;/table&gt;    &lt;br&gt;&lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-1397700516228146318?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/1397700516228146318/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=1397700516228146318' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/1397700516228146318'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/1397700516228146318'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2009/02/my-true-love-is-pisces.html' title='My true love is a pisces..?'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-4463130134240483733</id><published>2009-02-07T12:41:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-02-07T17:41:22.551+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I dreamt of my baby girl :)</title><content type='html'>Wala lang. Natuwa lang ako because last night, I dreamt that I gave birth to this cute little baby girl. Weird I know, but I really felt giving birth. Haha. Hindi ko man alam ang totoong feeling pero eeeeh, basta, I felt it. The doctor was a woman. I don't know her. Lol.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;The dream was dark but I saw my baby girl's little face. Her little pair of eyes were still closed but I can say that they were chinky, her little lips, her nose, and her cheeks, I think she got them from me. Although, she doesn't have a round face like mine, she's so cute..no, she's so pretty. Her hair was black..and malabong talaga. She's so little. So vulnerable. I held her in my dream and when I did, I cried. I felt her soft skin. I hear her little cry.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;When I woke up, I didn't know what to feel. Gosh. It felt good to see her. As if she's trying to tell me something. Oh well. She made me smile. She's my angel now, I know that.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Ayun.Nashare ko lang:)&lt;br&gt;And then, weird na yung dream ko after that. I gave birth ulit but this time, twins sila. Hahaha. I said the names I wanted. Basta, weird na tong part na toh. The first part, where I saw my baby girl's face, it was..I don't know actually..but I guess realistic. Hahaha.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Weird ko :)) Lol.&lt;br&gt;&lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-4463130134240483733?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/4463130134240483733/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=4463130134240483733' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/4463130134240483733'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/4463130134240483733'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2009/02/i-dreamt-of-my-baby-girl.html' title='I dreamt of my baby girl :)'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-8910660340832463211</id><published>2009-02-06T15:36:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-02-06T20:36:06.336+08:00</updated><title type='text'>UNO :)</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Febuary 05, 2009.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img style="width: 223px;height: 169px;" src="http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/DSC09799.jpg"&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;First and foremost, I am so proud of us!:) We made it!&lt;br&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Uno Production&lt;/span&gt; deserves each and every applaud there was in that room. All the efforts, all the concepts, all the ideas, all the shoots, all the edits, everything..really everything paid off.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img style="width: 362px;height: 263px;" src="http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/invitation-backcopy.jpg"&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br&gt;Yes. So I don't really care if anyone would say that I am very proud and that I'm bragging about this. Well, yeah, I really am!:) I'm just really overwhelmed with everything we got. I saw the efforts of everyone, I saw how each contributed..but I didn't see the winning coming. True enough, I, or should I say we, prayed and wished and hoped to win it this time, but those were everything we had.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-weight: bold;color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Uno Production, you're the best :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I thing these two statements made our BROADQUEST the best we can ever have!:)&lt;br&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Ma'am Faye: (in her blog)&lt;/span&gt;: &lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-style: italic;color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Goed zo! Proud of my CA1 right there!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-weight: bold;color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br&gt;**I remember Bianca, our president, telling us, "&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;iiyak pag natalo pero mas iiyak pag sinabi ni Ma'am Faye na she's proud of us&lt;/span&gt;"&lt;br&gt;&lt;br style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Mr. Benedict Mique&lt;/span&gt;: &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-style: italic;"&gt;"&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;I think your programming is better than ours."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;The shows we presented were simple. But they were extravagant in their own ways :)&lt;br&gt;Our collective title:&lt;br&gt;&lt;font size="3"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;SAYATURDAY NIGHT&lt;br&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;font size="3"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;img style="width: 330px;height: 248px;" src="http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/sayaturday_3-draft.jpg"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;blocktime: 6:00 - 9:00 PM&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;font style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);" size="3"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;What the fact (Wow Ah)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);" size="3"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;font style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);" size="3"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;May i-uuwi ka pa ba?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;font style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);" size="3"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Payashow&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;font style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);" size="3"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Love Lots, Beb Ang&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br&gt;We got these awards :)&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img style="width: 333px;height: 191px;" src="http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/DSC09964-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;BEST MALE PRESENTER&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;- our very own, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Mon Argel Gualvez&lt;/span&gt; (&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;FELLOW AB STUDENTS, PLEASE VOTE FOR HIM AS THE VP-INTERNAL THIS COMING ELECTION!THANKS=] &lt;/span&gt;)&lt;br&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;BEST MARKETING PLAN&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-weight: bold;color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;BEST PROGRAMMING PLAN&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-weight: bold;color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;BEST BROADCASTING PLAN&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-weight: bold;color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;BEST PROGRAM CONCEPT&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;(plaque to follow)&lt;br&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;PRODUCTION HOUSE OF THE YEAR&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;And our Master Teaser&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="allowScriptAccess" value="never"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/EWtXtQcakyo&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;embed allowscriptaccess="never" src="http://www.youtube.com/v/EWtXtQcakyo&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;&lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-8910660340832463211?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/8910660340832463211/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=8910660340832463211' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/8910660340832463211'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/8910660340832463211'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2009/02/uno.html' title='UNO :)'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-6045388827836883374</id><published>2009-01-31T14:49:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-01-31T19:49:30.016+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sorry, flat eh.</title><content type='html'>&lt;font style="font-family: Verdana;" size="2"&gt;Sa init ng panahon, sa tindi ng traffic, sa sobrang dami ng tao, medyo mahirap ng humanap ng matinong masasakyan na jeep. Minsan puno kaya masikip, minsan hindi mo kilala yung pwede mong makatabi kaya nakakatakot, minsan naman walang dumadaan na jeep papunta dun sa gusto mong puntahan.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Kailan lang, sumakay ako sa jeep. Ang luwag pa, maayos yung upuan, mukhang mabait yung driver, sakto papunta dun sa pupunta dun sa pupuntahan ko. Maayos yung biyahe, hindi gaanong mainit yung hangin kaya hindi ako masyadong pinawisan.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Pero siyempre, kahit gaano kaayos yung jeep na sinakyan ko, habang papunta sa pupuntahan ko eh hindi ko maiiwasan ang mga baku-bakong daan, ang maduming polusyon, ang mga taong tumatabi sa akin, at yung mga namumuong traffic. Kung pwede lang, gagawan ko ng sariling routa yung jeep eh. Yung walang sagabal sa biyahe. Yung tipong komportable lahat. Kaso, ano nga bang magagawa ko di ba? &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;At kung kelan ka nga naman siswertehen,nasira ang jeep. Tumingin ako sa driver na nainis na rin. Sabi na lang niya, "&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Sorry, flat eh.&lt;/span&gt;" Gusto kong tumulong sa pag-aayos pero wala naman akong alam sa ganung bagay. Sabi ko sa sarili ko habang nag-iisip ng susunod na gagawin, "&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;baba ka na lang, hanap ng ibang masasakyang jeep para wag ka ng mahirapan sa paghihintay.&lt;/span&gt;" Tinanong ko yung driver kung matatagalan ba yung paggawa niya ng gulong. Sumagot siya, "&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Teka lang miss, sinusubukan ko ng ayusin&lt;/span&gt;." Umupo na lang ako. Mainit na. Pinapawisan na ako ng sobra. Nauubos na ang pasensya ko pero ayoko pang umalis. Alam ko naman kasi na maayos siya ng driver. Nagtiwala ako sakanya. Sabi naman kasi niya inaayos na niya. Pagkalipas ng ilang minuto pa, tinanong ko ulit yung driver kung matatagalan pa. Tumingin siya sakin at binigyan niya ako ng naiinis at nalulungkot na mukha, sabay sabi, "&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Pasensiya na miss, baka hindi ko na magawa 'toh. Nabutas kasi eh. Ipapagawa ko pa sa iba. Baba ka na lang.&lt;/span&gt;"&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Ayoko pang bumaba noon. Ayos lang ako na nakaupo habang inaayos yung gulong ng jeep. Kaso sabi na nung driver na bumaba ako. Pinapaalis na niya ako eh. Nahihirapan na rin siguro siya sa pag-aayos kaya ipapagawa na niya sa iba. Siguro naaawa na rin siya sa akin kasi nakikita niya na nahihirapan na ako. Napaisip ako, "&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Ayos lang kaya sakanya na mawalan ng pasahero?&lt;/span&gt;" Tapos napailing na lang ako, habang naglalakad pababa ng jeep. Nabulong ko na lang sa sarili ko, "&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Sabagay, makakahanap din yan ng ibang pasahero. Yung hindi mangungulit sakanya kapag nasira ulit yung jeep niya.&lt;/span&gt;"&lt;br&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-6045388827836883374?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/6045388827836883374/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=6045388827836883374' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/6045388827836883374'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/6045388827836883374'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2009/01/sorry-flat-eh.html' title='Sorry, flat eh.'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-8809457409603437540</id><published>2009-01-30T16:55:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-01-30T21:55:03.340+08:00</updated><title type='text'>because Gabe can say what I can't</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;font-style: italic;font-weight: bold;font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;font size="3"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Gabe will always be my favorite artist :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br&gt;Well I wrote you a song, on a napkin today&lt;br&gt; It didn't take me that long already knew what to say.&lt;br&gt; But it would've clearly been wrong cause it begged you to stay.&lt;br&gt; So I threw it away, threw it away.&lt;br&gt; Because, &lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; Even though I like to keep you mine, &lt;br&gt; My plan is not to change your mind&lt;br&gt; I lock the feelings deep inside, &lt;br&gt; For another time, For another time, &lt;br&gt; (Repeat x2)&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; Don't get me twisted&lt;br&gt; Cause I admire everything that you're doing&lt;br&gt; You have my best wishes&lt;br&gt; And, and I know that you're gonna get through it&lt;br&gt; So girl if this is something that you're needing, &lt;br&gt; To those feelings be true, &lt;br&gt; You can only love me, As much as you love you&lt;br&gt; But girl I know you know that it's the truth, yeah.&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; Even though I like to keep you mine, &lt;br&gt; My plan is not to change your mind&lt;br&gt; I lock the feelings deep inside, &lt;br&gt; For another time, For another time, &lt;br&gt; (Repeat x2)&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; I'm suppressing my fight&lt;br&gt; Cause I know that you're right&lt;br&gt; Girl you gotta do what you gotta do&lt;br&gt; So you could be a better you&lt;br&gt; I put my questions on hold&lt;br&gt; And even though I feel cold&lt;br&gt; I'll be bold for you&lt;br&gt; And trust that I know My Plan&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; Yeah, Don't you change your mind for me, Baby yeah&lt;br&gt; Even though I like to keep you mine, &lt;br&gt; My plan is not to change your mind&lt;br&gt; Don't Change your mind.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div style="width: 300px;"&gt;&lt;object height="110" width="300"&gt;&lt;param name="allowScriptAccess" value="never"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://media.imeem.com/m/8DgHQWMbTJ"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed allowscriptaccess="never" src="http://media.imeem.com/m/8DgHQWMbTJ" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="110" width="300"&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div style="padding: 1px;background-color: rgb(230, 230, 230);"&gt;&lt;div style="padding: 4px 4px 0pt 0pt;float: left;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imeem.com/"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.imeem.com/embedsearch/E6E6E6/"  ="" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;form method="post" action="http://www.imeem.com/embedsearch/" style="margin: 0pt;padding: 0pt;"&gt;&lt;input name="EmbedSearchBox" type="text"&gt;&lt;input value="Search" style="font-size: 12px;" type="submit"&gt;&lt;div style="padding-top: 3px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://ads.imeem.com/ads/banneradclick.ashx?ep=0&amp;ek=8DgHQWMbTJ"&gt;&lt;img src="http://ads.imeem.com/ads/bannerad/152/10/" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://ads.imeem.com/ads/banneradclick.ashx?ep=1&amp;ek=8DgHQWMbTJ"&gt;&lt;img src="http://ads.imeem.com/ads/bannerad/153/10/" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://ads.imeem.com/ads/banneradclick.ashx?ep=2&amp;ek=8DgHQWMbTJ"&gt;&lt;img src="http://ads.imeem.com/ads/bannerad/154/10/" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://ads.imeem.com/ads/banneradclick.ashx?ep=3&amp;ek=8DgHQWMbTJ"&gt;&lt;img src="http://ads.imeem.com/ads/bannerad/155/10/8DgHQWMbTJ/" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/form&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imeem.com/duyle/music/8c6nbb4t/gabe_bondoc_my_plan/"&gt;My Plan - Gabe Bondoc&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-8809457409603437540?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/8809457409603437540/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=8809457409603437540' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/8809457409603437540'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/8809457409603437540'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2009/01/because-gabe-can-say-what-i-can.html' title='because Gabe can say what I can&amp;#39;t'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-7790084146226469513</id><published>2009-01-27T16:14:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T21:14:28.004+08:00</updated><title type='text'>trial</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="width: 300px;"&gt;&lt;object width="300" height="110"&gt;&lt;param name="allowScriptAccess" value="never"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://media.imeem.com/m/8Rvq7YYQOB"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed allowscriptaccess="never" src="http://media.imeem.com/m/8Rvq7YYQOB" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="300" height="110"&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div style="padding: 1px;background-color: rgb(230, 230, 230);"&gt;&lt;div style="padding: 4px 4px 0pt 0pt;float: left;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imeem.com/"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.imeem.com/embedsearch/E6E6E6/"  ="" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;form method="post" action="http://www.imeem.com/embedsearch/" style="margin: 0pt;padding: 0pt;"&gt;&lt;input name="EmbedSearchBox" type="text"&gt;&lt;input value="Search" style="font-size: 12px;" type="submit"&gt;&lt;div style="padding-top: 3px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://ads.imeem.com/ads/banneradclick.ashx?ep=0&amp;ek=8Rvq7YYQOB"&gt;&lt;img src="http://ads.imeem.com/ads/bannerad/152/10/" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://ads.imeem.com/ads/banneradclick.ashx?ep=1&amp;ek=8Rvq7YYQOB"&gt;&lt;img src="http://ads.imeem.com/ads/bannerad/153/10/" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://ads.imeem.com/ads/banneradclick.ashx?ep=2&amp;ek=8Rvq7YYQOB"&gt;&lt;img src="http://ads.imeem.com/ads/bannerad/154/10/" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://ads.imeem.com/ads/banneradclick.ashx?ep=3&amp;ek=8Rvq7YYQOB"&gt;&lt;img src="http://ads.imeem.com/ads/bannerad/155/10/8Rvq7YYQOB/" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/form&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imeem.com/people/toDHkg/music/Qglvqx_E/aj_rafael_starlit_nights/"&gt;Starlit Nights - AJ Rafael&lt;/a&gt;   &lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-7790084146226469513?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/7790084146226469513/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=7790084146226469513' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/7790084146226469513'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/7790084146226469513'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2009/01/trial.html' title='trial'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-5012860292495314553</id><published>2009-01-25T12:04:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-01-25T17:04:45.758+08:00</updated><title type='text'>RC report</title><content type='html'>      &lt;br&gt;Kilala mo na ba si Rizal? Sino nga ba talaga siya?&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;Si Jose Protacio Rizal Mercado y Alonso Realonda, o mas kilala bilang Dr. Jose Rizal, ay isang henyo ng kanyang panahon. Marami siyang naibigay sa mga Pilipino at sa Pilipinas. Ang kanyang dalawang nobela, Noli Me Tangere at El Filibusterismo, ay nagbukas ng mata ng maraming henerasyon sa tunay na lagay ng Pilipinas noong panahon ng mga Kastila. Ibinuwis niya ang kanyang buhay para sa kalayaan ng bansa. Alam ng nakararami na si Jose Rizal ang Pambansang Bayani ng Pilipinas. Hanggan saan ang alam natin sakanya? Hanggang sa petsa lang ba ng kanyang kapanganakan? O hanggang sa kanyang ninuno? O hanggang sa kanyang mga nasabi at naisulat? &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial;"&gt;Bilang mag-aaral at bilang isang Pilipino, aming kinilala ng husto ang ating&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Pambansang Bayani, si Dr. Jose Rizal. Kami ay naatasan sa kursong Rizal na puntahan ang mga mahahalagang lugar na naging parte ng buhay ng Pambansang Bayani. Sa pamamagitan ng mga ito, marami kaming natuklasan tungkol kay Dr. Jose Rizal. At dahil dito, siya ay lubusan pa naming nakilala.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial;" lang="EN-CA"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;/span&gt;        Sa aming ginawang lakbay-aral para sa kursong Rizal, pinuntahan naming ang ilan sa mga makasaysayang&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;pook at establisimiyento na may kinalaman at kaugnayan sa ating Pambansang Bayani na si Jose Rizal. &lt;st1:place w:st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:city w:st="on"&gt;Lima&lt;/st1:city&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt; ang lugar na aming pinuntahan at una na rito ang &lt;b style=""&gt;Unibersidad na Santo Tomas&lt;/b&gt;. Sa paaralang&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;ito kinuha ni Rizal ang kanyang unang kurso na Pilosopiya Y Letra at ang pangalawa ay ang kursong&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;medisina&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;sa kadahilanang gusto niyang magamot ang kanyang ina. Isang karangalan para sa aming magaaral na ang eskwelehang aming kinabibilangan&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;ngayon ay minsang naging parte ng buhay estudyante&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;ng ating Pambansang Bayani.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Ang sumunod naming pinuntahan ay ang &lt;b style=""&gt;Colegio&lt;/b&gt; &lt;b style=""&gt;de San Juan de Letran &lt;/b&gt;kung saan sinsabing kumuha ang entrance exam si Rizal ngunit pinayuhan siya ni----- na mas maganda ang Ateneo kaysa dito. Naitatag ang paaralang ito siyam na taon matapos maitayo ang Unibersidad ng Santo Tomas.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Sumunod ay ang &lt;b style=""&gt;Fort Santiago&lt;/b&gt; kung saan matatagpuan rin ang Rizal Shrine at ang mga exhibit na may kinalaman sa naging buhay ni Rizal.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Sa aming pagapasok ay may nakita kaming&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;mga bakas ng paa, sinasabing ito ay ang mga footsteps ni Rizal nung siya ay naglalakad patungo sa Bagumbayan, kung saan siya binaril. Kumuha kami ng litrato dito at kapag matagal ka palang nakatapak dito ay parang dumidikit ang iyong paa na para bang may magnet. Sa matagal na panahon, karamihan sa amin ay kailan lang muling nakapunta ng &lt;st1:place w:st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:placetype w:st="on"&gt;Fort&lt;/st1:placetype&gt; &lt;st1:placename w:st="on"&gt;Santiago&lt;/st1:placename&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;, kaya naman talagang namangha kami ng mapasok naming ang Rizal Shrine. Sa loob ng Shrine ay marami kaming natuklasan na bago sa ating Pambansang Bayani.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Likas pala talagang mahilig magsulat si Rizal sapagkat sa halos lahat ng bahagi ng museo ay&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;makikita mo sa mga dingding o sa lapag ang kanyang mga likha. Hindi namin nilalait ang sulat ni Rizal ngunit ito ay may kapangitan, tanda na rin siguro na talagang mabilis siyang magisip kaya hindi na niya napagtutuunan pansin ang kanyang sulat kamay.Si Rizal ay maituturing din na isang iskulptor sapagkat&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;marami na siyang naukit kabilang na rito ang “Triumph Over Death” at “Prometheus Bound” . Marami ring mga larawan na ipininta ng mga sikat na pintor ang nakadisplay&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;rito. Isa na rito ang mga larawan ni O-Sei-San at Josephine Bracken. May napansin lang kami ng ipinagkumpara namin ang dalawa at talaga namang sinangayunan namin lhat: na mas maganda si O-Sei-San kaysa kay Josephine Bracken. Ayon nga kay Rizal, halos nasa kanya na lahat ngunit mas pinili ni Rizal ang bayan kaysa sa kanya. Sa loob rin ay nakadisplay ang ilan sa mga damit ni Rizal na ginamit nya nung siya ay bata pa,mga damit niya kapag siya ay nasa malamig na bansa at ang damit niya pangaraw-araw&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;na tinatahi ng kanyang kapatid. Ayon na rin sa sukat ng kanyang damit, masasabi namin na si Rizal nga ay may kaliitan,na katangian na rin ng isang tunay na Pilipino. Napagalaman rin namin na ang buto na tinamaan ng bala ng baril ay nasa &lt;st1:place w:st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:placetype w:st="on"&gt;Fort&lt;/st1:placetype&gt;  &lt;st1:placename w:st="on"&gt;Santiago&lt;/st1:placename&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;. At bago matapos ang aming pagiikot sa museo ay nakita namin na maraming translation&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;na nakadisplay ang “Mi Ultimo Adios”, mayroong Filipino, English, Spanish,&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Japanese, Korean, at&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Chinese para sa mga turistang nagpupunta roon ng sa gayon, labis nilang maintindihan ang huling liham ni Rizal. Nakakatuwa ng makita namin na talagang binabasa nila sa kanilang lengguwahe ang “Mi Ultimo Adios”. Narito rin pala ang lampara na pinagtaguan ni Rizal ng kayang huling liham at mapapansin niyo na ito ay hindi isang tipikal na lampara na madalas natin makita. Matapos ang aming pagpunta ng &lt;st1:place w:st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:placetype w:st="on"&gt;Fort&lt;/st1:placetype&gt; &lt;st1:placename w:st="on"&gt;Santiago&lt;/st1:placename&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt; ay tumungo kami sa &lt;b style=""&gt;Luneta&lt;/b&gt;, dito sinasabing inilagay ang nacremate na bangkay na Rizal. Hindi na rin kami nagtagal rito sapagkat mataas ang sikat ng araw at hindi rin naman kami makakalapit kaya kumuha na lang kami ng mga larawan. Sa pagpunta naman naming sa &lt;b style=""&gt;Paco Park&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;kung saan sinsabi na inilibing ang bangkay ni Rizal ay natagpuan rin naming ang puntod ng tatlong pari na pinag-alayan niya ng kanyang librong El Filibusterismo, ang paring GOMBURZA. Maraming bangkay din dito ang inilibing ng tinamaan ng sakit na ---- na kumalat noon.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Marami pa rin ang nakalibing doon sa matagal na panahon, may isa pa nga kaming nakita na mag100 taon na. Sa loob ng &lt;st1:place w:st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:placename w:st="on"&gt;Paco&lt;/st1:placename&gt; &lt;st1:placetype w:st="on"&gt;Park&lt;/st1:placetype&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt; ay may&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;hiwalay na libingan para sa mga sanngol at batang maagang namatay noon.&lt;span style=""&gt;     &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial;" lang="EN-CA"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial;" lang="EN-CA"&gt;Realization:&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial;" lang="EN-CA"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial;" lang="EN-CA"&gt;Sa aming mga nalaman kay Rizal, nagkaroon kami ng realisasyon sa aming mga isip. Si Dr. Jose Rizal ay hindi lamang isang bayani na nagbuwis ng buhay para makalaya ang matagal niyang ipinaglaban na bansa. Siya rin ay isang &lt;b style=""&gt;huwarang anak at kapatid&lt;/b&gt; na minahal ng kanyang mga magulang at mga kapatid. Makikita ang pagmamahal sa mga damit na tinatahi para sakanya ng mga nakakatandang kapatid na babae, at sa pagtuturo sa kanya ng kanyang ina. Ang kanyang pagmamahal sa pamilya ay makikita sa mga sulat sa mga kapatid at magulang. Siya rin ay isang &lt;b style=""&gt;estudyante&lt;/b&gt; sapagkat siya ay namasukan sa mga unibersidad at kolehiyo. Dalawa rito ay ang Letran at and Unibersidad ng Santo Tomas. Si Rizal ay isang &lt;b style=""&gt;doktor&lt;/b&gt; na ang unang ginamot ay ang butihing ina. Isa siyang &lt;b style=""&gt;guro&lt;/b&gt; na nagturo ng kanyang mga kaalaman sa ibang tao sa pamamagitan ng mga akda. Siya ay isang artist na nakagawa ng mga &lt;i style=""&gt;sculpture&lt;/i&gt; na nasa museo ngayon ng &lt;st1:place w:st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:placetype w:st="on"&gt;Fort&lt;/st1:placetype&gt; &lt;st1:placename w:st="on"&gt;Bonifacio&lt;/st1:placename&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;. Siya ay isang &lt;b style=""&gt;nobyo&lt;/b&gt; na nagmahal at nasaktan ng pag-ibig. May mga babaeng nakahuli sa mga mata ni Rizal at mayroong nakahuli sa kanyang puso. At higit sa lahat, si Dr. Jose Rizal ay isang &lt;b style=""&gt;ordinaryong tao&lt;/b&gt; lamang na nagmahal sa kanyang bayan at ipinaglaban ito. Siya ay napagod, nagalit, nagmahal, nagulat, nagkamali, nagkasala, at higit sa lahat, namatay. Ibinigay niya ang kanyang buhay para sa mga Pilipino. Maliit man siyang tao kung titignan, isa siyang napakatapang at napakalaking inspirasyon sa mga Pilipino noon at hanggang ngayon. Ang kanyang &lt;i style=""&gt;legacy &lt;/i&gt;ay mabubuhay hanggang sa mga susunod na henerasyon sa bansa ng mga Indios, sa bansang Pilipinas.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;        &lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-5012860292495314553?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/5012860292495314553/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=5012860292495314553' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/5012860292495314553'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/5012860292495314553'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2009/01/rc-report.html' title='RC report'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-7100954954817859826</id><published>2009-01-25T09:44:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-01-25T14:44:52.644+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I said, " 'Lemme give you."</title><content type='html'>Life is always a give and take process. You give things and you receive things as well. Although as a Catholic, I believe that everything we have here are just borrowed from God.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Lately, I've been trying so hard to give people around me what I think and I feel they deserve. I try to make other people happy. I try to give them what they deserve. And so I kept trying..and I still do.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I've done my 3 LTS trips and I can say, I've learned more than I taught. I had fun and I don't know if the fun I gave those kids was as much as they fun they gave me. I gave them some things and they gave me a lot of things. At the end of the trip, all I thought about was, "&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I said I'll give them but they've given me more.&lt;/span&gt;"&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I talked with a friend just when, and we talked about this. My friend said, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-weight: bold;"&gt;in this world, no matter what you do, no matter how hard you struggle, you can never give others what you don't have in yourself.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;My friend has a point.But I'm always the hard-headed one so yeah. You can see what I'll do. I'm still here, trying to give people what I think they deserve although I know, I lack some of these. Happiness, maybe, is something I can give..I can make. And my friend added too that things are better if they start in one's self. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Build something in yourself first, before you give it away.&lt;/span&gt;Great for happiness eh? And I remember just now, my friend told me too that &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;above anyone else, you have to prioritize yourself. If you know this thing will make you happy, then go. Even if it means not giving other people what they deserve.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Well, these are just some of the things I thought about after the LTS trip and some things. Not bad for a little reflection, right? Thanks to my friend who's just so great with words. Thank you!:)&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Oh well, I still try to give and give and give.Karma goes back a hundred times, right?:) Good karma is just around the corner!&lt;br style="font-weight: bold;font-style: italic;"&gt;   &lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-7100954954817859826?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/7100954954817859826/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=7100954954817859826' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/7100954954817859826'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/7100954954817859826'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2009/01/i-said-give-you.html' title='I said, &amp;quot; &amp;#39;Lemme give you.&amp;quot;'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-8428987480184714858</id><published>2009-01-18T19:34:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T00:34:40.402+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Jack 'n Jill tag.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Wala lang. Gabi na. I mean umaga na. And I've been thinking about some things and you know, those blahs about life, the world, and yeah how hard life is. And then *pop* ayun, I remembered the Jack 'n Jill commercial. Pretzels yata yun..or whatever. Basta. Yun na yun :))hehehe.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;font-weight: bold;font-style: italic;color: rgb(255, 0, 0);font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;font size="6"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);"&gt;L&lt;/span&gt;i&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153);"&gt;f&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;e&lt;/span&gt;'&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 255);"&gt;s&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 0);"&gt;F&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 255);"&gt;u&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 0);"&gt;n&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 153);"&gt;!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;So why not enjoy it di ba? Life's hard. But it's fun too, after all :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Ang galing talaga ng mga taglines and slogans.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;They seem nothing at first pero on the deeper thought, may sense di ba?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Ayun. So umaga na nga. Anu-ano na naiisip ko:)) Haha.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Tulog na si Chito. Wala lang. Kahit tulog na siya naiisip ko din siya. Weeeeh :))&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Pasensya. I'm in lalalalaloooove eh.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Whooooooot :D&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Tutulog na rin ako. Hahaha.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Good night!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Waiiiit. Before going to sleep. I'd like to share this song with you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;I've been listening to Gabe again lately. Mejo nakalimutan ko na siya the past months pero ayun, naalala ko ulit siya.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Chito and I are addicted to him.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;He sings and plays the guitar so well!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Two thumbs up, a standing ovation and round of applause for him!!:)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;div style="width: 300px;"&gt;&lt;object width="300" height="110"&gt;&lt;param name="allowScriptAccess" value="never"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://media.imeem.com/m/tWAo833knC"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed allowscriptaccess="never" src="http://media.imeem.com/m/tWAo833knC" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="300" height="110"&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div style="padding: 1px;background-color: rgb(230, 230, 230);"&gt;&lt;div style="padding: 4px 4px 0pt 0pt;float: left;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imeem.com/"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.imeem.com/embedsearch/E6E6E6/"  ="" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;form method="post" action="http://www.imeem.com/embedsearch/" style="margin: 0pt;padding: 0pt;"&gt;&lt;input name="EmbedSearchBox" type="text"&gt;&lt;input value="Search" style="font-size: 12px;" type="submit"&gt;&lt;div style="padding-top: 3px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://ads.imeem.com/ads/banneradclick.ashx?ep=0&amp;ek=tWAo833knC"&gt;&lt;img src="http://ads.imeem.com/ads/bannerad/152/10/" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://ads.imeem.com/ads/banneradclick.ashx?ep=1&amp;ek=tWAo833knC"&gt;&lt;img src="http://ads.imeem.com/ads/bannerad/153/10/" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://ads.imeem.com/ads/banneradclick.ashx?ep=2&amp;ek=tWAo833knC"&gt;&lt;img src="http://ads.imeem.com/ads/bannerad/154/10/" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://ads.imeem.com/ads/banneradclick.ashx?ep=3&amp;ek=tWAo833knC"&gt;&lt;img src="http://ads.imeem.com/ads/bannerad/155/10/tWAo833knC/" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/form&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-8428987480184714858?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/8428987480184714858/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=8428987480184714858' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/8428987480184714858'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/8428987480184714858'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2009/01/jack-jill-tag.html' title='The Jack &amp;#39;n Jill tag.'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-542819000722416788</id><published>2009-01-18T05:06:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-01-18T10:06:57.183+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Things I think we, ladies, need to know about guys.</title><content type='html'>    I remember a conversation I had with Chito when I posted the &lt;a href="http://mscarmela.multiply.com/journal/item/256/Because_Aleli_and_I_are_in_love_"&gt;FORTY FIVE THINGS A GIRL WANTS BUT WONT ASK FOR&lt;/a&gt;   he said, wala ba daw ng 45 things a guy wants. Sabi ko pa nun maghahanap ako sa internet. Pero sabi niya wag na lang. Haha. Hindi ko hinanap toh sa net. Nakita ko lang sa multiply ni Ate Ice and I grabbed it na. I hope Chito likes this :)&lt;br&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);font-family: Verdana;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: Verdana;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;I kind of...haha..okay I really agree with this.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;**************************************&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: Verdana;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;We don't care if you're friends with other guys.&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; But when you're sitting next to us, and some random guy walks into the room and you jump up and tackle him, without even introducing us, yeah, it pisses us off.&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; It doesn't help if you sit there and talk to him for ten minutes without even acknowledging the fact that we're still there.&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; We don't care if a guy calls OR TEXTS you, but at 2 in the morning we do get a little concerned.&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; Nothing is that important at 2 a.m. that it can't wait till the morning.&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; Also, when we tell you you're pretty/ beautiful/ gorgeous/cute/ stunning, we freaking mean it.&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; Don't tell us we're wrong.&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; We'll stop trying to convince you.&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; The sexiest thing about a girl is confidence.&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; Yeah, you can quote me.&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; Don't be mad when we hold the door open. Take Advantage of the mood im in.&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; Let us pay for you!&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; Don’t "feel bad"&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; We enjoy doing it.&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; It's expected.&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; Smile and say "thank you."&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; Kiss us when no one's watching.&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; If you kiss us when you know somebody's looking, we'll be more impressed.&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; You don't have to get dressed up for us.&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; If we're going out with you in the first place, you don't have to feel the need to&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; wear the shortest skirt you have or put on every kind of makeup you own.&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; We like you for who you are and not what you are.&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; honestly, I think a girl looks more beautiful when she's just in her pj's. or my&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; shirt and boxers, not all dolled up&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; Don't take everything we say seriously.&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; Sarcasm is a beautiful thing. See the beauty in it.&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; Don't get angry easily.&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; Stop using magazines/media as your bible.&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; "Don't talk about how hott Chuck Bass, Robert Pattinson, or Jesse McCartney is in front of us".&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; It's boring, and we don't care. You have friends for that.&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; Whatever happened to the word "handsome"/"beautiful"?&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; I’d be utterly stunned by a girl who greeted me&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; with "Hey handsome!" instead of "Hey baby/ stud/ cutie/ sexy" or whatever else you can think of.&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; on the other hand I’m not saying I wouldn't like it ether&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; &lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;Girls, I cannot stress this enough: if you aren't being treated right by a guy, don’t wait for him to change. Ditch his sorry ASS, he's a disgrace to the male population and find someone who will treat you with utter respect.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: Verdana;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: none;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Someone who will honor your morals.&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; Someone who will make you smile when you're at your lowest.&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; Someone who will care for you even when you make mistakes.&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; Someone who will love you, no matter how bad you make them feel.&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; Someone who will stop what they're doing just to look you in the eyes....and say "i love you" ..and actually mean it.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;br style=""&gt; &lt;!-- [if !supportLineBreakNewLine] --&gt;&lt;br style=""&gt; &lt;!-- [endif] --&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 16pt;font-family: Verdana;color: rgb(153, 51, 0);"&gt;**Well, I’m glad I have someone who knows my worth! He has always been there for me no matter what. He has done these things here and he never failed to make me feel very much loved!:)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; Every Guy who isn't a jerk will agree with this, so we hope that all the girls that read this will repost this&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; *Holding Hands&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; Girls :If you want to hold his hand, gently bump into it a couple of  times.&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; Guys : Grab it if it happens more than once.&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; &lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;*Cuddling&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; Girls : When you want to cuddle with him, tell him you're cold&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; Guys : Automatically move closer to her.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;color: red;"&gt;--I am so guilty of this! Hahah!:))&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; *Movies&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; Girls : During a movie, if he puts his arm around you, tilt your head on his shoulder&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; Guys : Lift her chin up and kiss her.&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; &lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;*Loving each other&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; Guys : When she tells you she loves you, look deep into her eyes, give her a peck on the lips, and tell her you love her&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; too... And mean it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;color: red;"&gt;--Hun!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Wingdings;color: red;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;:) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;color: red;"&gt;ala mu &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Wingdings;color: red;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;:))&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;color: red;"&gt; hehe.&lt;br&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;br&gt; *Laying below the stars&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; Girls : When you're both laying under the stars, put your head on his chest and close your eyes as you listen to his steady heart beat&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; Guys : Whisper in her ear and link your hands with hers.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;****************************************&lt;br&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;font-family: Verdana;color: rgb(153, 51, 0);"&gt;I’m so in love with a guy who has seen the best and worst of me and yet, he’s still there hanging on, who has stayed with me thru the thick and thin of my life and never complained, who loves me more than anything and shows it in every single possible way. I love you so much, hunnie &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;font-family: Wingdings;color: rgb(153, 51, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;:) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;font-family: Verdana;color: rgb(153, 51, 0);"&gt;I’m always here for you :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;font-family: Wingdings;color: rgb(153, 51, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;font-family: Verdana;color: rgb(153, 51, 0);"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;       &lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-542819000722416788?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/542819000722416788/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=542819000722416788' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/542819000722416788'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/542819000722416788'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2009/01/things-i-think-we-ladies-need-to-know.html' title='Things I think we, ladies, need to know about guys.'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-1608119006033460865</id><published>2009-01-09T08:39:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-01-09T13:39:25.890+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I live two lives.</title><content type='html'>There's a really big difference between my life at home and my life away from home.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;People around me knows how extrovert I am, how I want to always go out, how I hate being boxed in a place, how I always want to have fun, how active I can get. I'm trying to satisfy this personality I have. Yeah, I TRY, when I'm not home.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;You see, when I'm home, I always get this lazy feeling. I just stay home, bum around, read, watch tv, surf the net. Well, partly I like that too but for most part, I'm compelled to do JUST that. I so want to go out and have fun especially at my age. I used to understand that my parents didn't want me going out before because I was young. But god. How old am I now? I want to believe that I had a good teenage life. Well, I did. Thanks to my friends and you know, the few times I went out. But really? Oh no.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I never went out late with my friends because my Mom won't allow me. I never stayed for an overnight to have a party because my Dad won't allow me. I never went out of town to have fun with my friends because my parents won't allow me. When my friends invite me to go out, I always say, "I'll try. I'll ask my parents.".sometimes I add, "I don't think they'll allow me." I've missed a lot during my teenage years. I could've played the guitar but my mom never enrolled me to a class. I could've enjoyed basketball more but my mom said no. I could've played oher sports but I never had the chance to. I could've learned other things, given my enthusiasm, but I didn't have any opportunities. On summers I only stay at home, being bum and all. I tell my parents what I want to do but then they won't speak up to give me the permission. You see, there's this thing that always wants to be free,go out and enjoy the open space. But it can't. My parents won't give me a way to let it out.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;My parents are protective and strict. I guess all parents are. But I think my parents are a little overboard. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Or not? I don't know. I can't really tell. God I wish I could tell them what I want and what I need. My parents think that if they give us everything - tv, internet, playstations, gameboys, etc - we'll be having fun. I think that's the problem..or no, not really a problem. It's my point. My parents think that HOME is enough. They think, especially my MOM, thinks that everything we need is inside the house. I wish I can tell them there's more beyond the house. The experiences, seeing daily lives, acting true..well,there's just really more outside. My parents are always scared of the world. I guess that where I differ. I always take risks. No, let me rephrase that, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I already learned how to take risks&lt;/span&gt;. I've learned that for one to surivive this world, one should take the risk of facing it. That's what I want my parents to see. That's what I want them to learn. But I guess, since they are parents and since they always say that they know more than any of us do, they'll always stick to the idea that the world is not a safe place. Which, I admit, I agree. But then again, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;you won't learn how to ride a bicycle without getting even just a scratch.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I just finished reading Luna (by Julie Anne Peters) and it just coincidentally matched my thoughts. I need a life..my life. I've always wanted to have it. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;That is why I live two lives. When I'm in Manila, I go out..but with a limit too. Damn that friggin curfew. And when I'm home, I stay home and just bum myself. I'm 18 years and 7 months old. God. Can't I get a life?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;ps. I don't hate my parents, alright? I love them so much. It's just that..well, I hope you understand what I feel. I just want to enjoy the life I have.&lt;br&gt;&lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-1608119006033460865?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/1608119006033460865/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=1608119006033460865' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/1608119006033460865'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/1608119006033460865'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2009/01/i-live-two-lives.html' title='I live two lives.'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-7690795832715399457</id><published>2008-12-31T14:02:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-31T19:02:02.191+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Passing on the positive vibe :)</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;It's 09, my dear. And although we all felt the not-so-good things of 08, I'd like to not just greet you a Happy New Year but pass this positive vibe I have of 09 as well.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;font-weight: bold;color: rgb(255, 0, 0);font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;font size="3"&gt;I'm in love.&lt;br&gt;I'm happy with my family.&lt;br&gt;I have my good friends.&lt;br&gt;I'm loved by my best friends.&lt;br&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;What else could I ask?:)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;The start of my 08 was not good. Some people know that, right? I had problems. I faced obstacles. But see? I still got the hold of 08. I'm here, typing this, with a smile on my face. Thanks to everyone who took part in completing my 08!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;So to everyone, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;smile&lt;/span&gt;. Keep your heads up. A new year is coming. New memories, new people, new experiences, and more are yet to come!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;font style="font-weight: bold;color: rgb(255, 0, 0);font-family: Verdana;" size="3"&gt;Welcome, 2009!&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Let's all be happy!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;God bless us all!:)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;   &lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-7690795832715399457?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/7690795832715399457/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=7690795832715399457' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/7690795832715399457'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/7690795832715399457'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2008/12/passing-on-positive-vibe.html' title='Passing on the positive vibe :)'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-5371358044617735219</id><published>2008-12-30T12:07:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-30T17:07:47.110+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Okay lang kasi magmura, wag lang direct at addressed.</title><content type='html'>WTF.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Oh see? Ako mismo nagmumura eh. Pero tipong expression lang. Hindi DIRECT. Hindi ADDRESSED. Wala yung salitang KA. Yung tipong %^$%^%&amp; KA. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Tae lang eh. Nakakainis. Nakakairita.&lt;br&gt;Next time naman kasi alam din na nakakasakit yon.&lt;br&gt;Poteeek.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Whoooo. Kalma, Mela. Kalma.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;WHAT THE FFFFFF.&lt;br&gt;   &lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-5371358044617735219?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/5371358044617735219/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=5371358044617735219' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/5371358044617735219'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/5371358044617735219'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2008/12/okay-lang-kasi-magmura-wag-lang-direct_30.html' title='Okay lang kasi magmura, wag lang direct at addressed.'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-7254739364356651545</id><published>2008-12-30T12:04:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-30T17:04:56.780+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Okay lang kasi magmura, wag lang direct at addressed.</title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;   &lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-7254739364356651545?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/7254739364356651545/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=7254739364356651545' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/7254739364356651545'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/7254739364356651545'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2008/12/okay-lang-kasi-magmura-wag-lang-direct.html' title='Okay lang kasi magmura, wag lang direct at addressed.'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-3197649944329967877</id><published>2008-12-27T07:00:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-27T12:00:20.616+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Because Aleli and I are in love :)</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;font-size: 10pt;font-family: Arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;FORTY FIVE THINGS A GIRL WANTS BUT WONT ASK FOR.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;font-family: Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;font-family: Arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1. Touch her waist * I like it when he touches my waist. He knows that &lt;3&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br&gt;2. Actually talk to her. * We always TALK.&lt;br&gt;3. Share secrets with her * He's my best friend and lover in one!:)&lt;br&gt;4. Give her your jacket * I have two jackets from him. One was his and the other, he bought it for me :)&lt;br&gt;&lt;strong&gt;5. Kiss her slowly * Hahaha. I think I won't comment on this, hun :))&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;font-family: Arial;"&gt;Are you remembering this?.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;font-family: Arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;6. Hug her - he always does :)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br&gt;7. Hold her.&lt;br&gt;8. Laugh with her. &lt;br&gt;9. Invite her somewhere.&lt;br&gt;10. Hangout with her and your friends together.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;font-family: Arial;"&gt;Keep reading..&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;font-family: Arial;"&gt;11. Smile with her. &lt;br&gt;12. Take pictures with her. &lt;br&gt;&lt;strong&gt;13. Pull her onto your lap - I like this! *ehem ehem*&lt;br&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;14. When she says she loves you more, deny it. Fight back.&lt;br&gt;15. When her friends say "i love her more than you", deny it. Fight back and hug her tight so she can't get to her friends, it makes her feel loved.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;font-family: Arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;16. Always hug her and say I love you whenever you see her.&lt;/strong&gt; Chito never failed to do this :)&lt;br&gt;&lt;strong&gt;17. Kiss her unexpectedly&lt;/strong&gt; - haha. stolen kisses are one of the best :)&lt;v:shapetype id="_x0000_t75" stroked="f" filled="f" path="m@4@5l@4@11@9@11@9@5xe" o:preferrelative="t" o:spt="75" coordsize="21600,21600"&gt; &lt;v:stroke joinstyle="miter"&gt;&lt;/v:stroke&gt;&lt;v:formulas&gt;&lt;v:f eqn="if lineDrawn pixelLineWidth 0"&gt;&lt;/v:f&gt;&lt;v:f eqn="sum @0 1 0"&gt;&lt;/v:f&gt;&lt;v:f eqn="sum 0 0 @1"&gt;&lt;/v:f&gt;&lt;v:f eqn="prod @2 1 2"&gt;&lt;/v:f&gt;&lt;v:f eqn="prod @3 21600 pixelWidth"&gt;&lt;/v:f&gt;&lt;v:f eqn="prod @3 21600 pixelHeight"&gt;&lt;/v:f&gt;&lt;v:f eqn="sum @0 0 1"&gt;&lt;/v:f&gt;&lt;v:f eqn="prod @6 1 2"&gt;&lt;/v:f&gt;&lt;v:f eqn="prod @7 21600 pixelWidth"&gt;&lt;/v:f&gt;&lt;v:f eqn="sum @8 21600 0"&gt;&lt;/v:f&gt;&lt;v:f eqn="prod @7 21600 pixelHeight"&gt;&lt;/v:f&gt;&lt;v:f eqn="sum @10 21600 0"&gt;&lt;/v:f&gt;&lt;/v:formulas&gt;&lt;v:path o:connecttype="rect" gradientshapeok="t" o:extrusionok="f"&gt;&lt;/v:path&gt;&lt;o:lock aspectratio="t" v:ext="edit"&gt;&lt;/o:lock&gt;&lt;/v:shapetype&gt;&lt;v:shape id="_x0000_i1025" style="width: 21.75pt;height: 21.75pt;" type="#_x0000_t75" alt=""&gt;&lt;v:imagedata o:href="http://images.multiply.com/common/smiles/kiss.png" src="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CPrez%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_image001.png"&gt;&lt;/v:imagedata&gt;&lt;/v:shape&gt;&lt;v:shape id="_x0000_i1026" style="width: 21.75pt;height: 21.75pt;" type="#_x0000_t75" alt=""&gt;&lt;/v:shape&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;strong&gt;18. Hug her from behind around the waist.&lt;/strong&gt; i like this too!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;font-family: Arial;"&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;strong&gt;19. Tell her she's beautiful. &lt;/strong&gt;He always does :)&lt;br&gt;20. Tell her the way you feel about her.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;font-family: Arial;"&gt;One last thing you need to do to show her you actually do mean it..&lt;v:shape id="_x0000_i1028" style="width: 16.5pt;height: 16.5pt;" type="#_x0000_t75" alt=""&gt; &lt;v:imagedata o:href="http://images.multiply.com/common/smiles/rose.png" src="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CPrez%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_image007.png"&gt;&lt;/v:imagedata&gt;&lt;/v:shape&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;font-family: Arial;"&gt;21. &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial;"&gt;Open doors for her, walk her to her car&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;- it makes her feel protected, plus it never hurts to act like a gentleman.&lt;br&gt;22. &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial;"&gt;Tell her she's your everything&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; - only if you mean it.&lt;br&gt;&lt;strong&gt;23. &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial;"&gt;If it seems like there is something wrong, ask her&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;- if she denies something being wrong, it means &lt;span style="font-weight: normal;font-family: Arial;"&gt;&lt;font size="3"&gt;SHE DOESN'T WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/span&gt;- so just hug her. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br&gt;24. Make her feel loved.&lt;br&gt;&lt;strong&gt;25. Kiss her in front of &lt;span style="font-weight: normal;font-family: Arial;"&gt;OTHER&lt;/span&gt; girls you know - hahaha. ang possessive ko talaga. gusto ko toh eh :))&lt;br&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;font-family: Arial;"&gt;We might deny it, but we actually like and kinda want you to tickle us (hmmm. mejo?:) but not too much!)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;font-family: Arial;"&gt;26. Don't lie to &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;font-family: Arial;"&gt;HER&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;v:shape id="_x0000_i1030" style="width: 16.5pt;height: 16.5pt;" type="#_x0000_t75" alt=""&gt; &lt;v:imagedata o:href="http://images.multiply.com/common/smiles/thumbs_down.png" src="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CPrez%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_image009.png"&gt;&lt;/v:imagedata&gt;&lt;/v:shape&gt;&lt;br&gt;27. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;font-family: Arial;"&gt;DON'T&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; cheat on her.&lt;v:shape id="_x0000_i1031" style="width: 16.5pt;height: 16.5pt;" type="#_x0000_t75" alt=""&gt;&lt;v:imagedata o:href="http://images.multiply.com/common/smiles/unlove.png" src="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CPrez%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_image011.png"&gt;&lt;/v:imagedata&gt;&lt;/v:shape&gt;&lt;br&gt;28. Take her &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;font-family: Arial;"&gt;ANYWHERE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; she wants.&lt;br&gt;29. Text messege or call her in the morning and tell her have a good day at work {or school}, and how much you &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;font-family: Arial;"&gt;MISS&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; her.&lt;br&gt;30. Be there for her when ever she needs you, &amp; even when she doesn't need you, just be there so she'll know that she can &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;font-family: Arial;"&gt;ALWAYS&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; count on you.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;font-family: Arial;"&gt;Are you still reading this?. You better, because, it's IMPORTANT!.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;font-family: Arial;"&gt;31. Hold her close when she's cold so she can hold &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;font-family: Arial;"&gt;YOU&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; too.&lt;br&gt;&lt;strong&gt;32. When you are &lt;span style="font-weight: normal;font-family: Arial;"&gt;ALONE&lt;/span&gt; hold her close and kiss her.&lt;br&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;33. Kiss her on the &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;font-family: Arial;"&gt;CHEEK&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; (it will give her the hint that you want to kiss her).&lt;br&gt;34. While in the movies, put your arm around her and then she will automatically put her head on your shoulder, then lean in and tilt her chin up and kiss her &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;font-family: Arial;"&gt;LIGHTLY&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;br&gt;35. Dont &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;font-family: Arial;"&gt;EVER&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; tell her to leave even jokingly or act like you're mad. If shes upset, comfort her.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;font-family: Arial;"&gt;Remember all this things when you are with her next time..&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;font-family: Arial;"&gt;36. When people &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;font-family: Arial;"&gt;TEASE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; her, stand up for her.&lt;br&gt;37. Look deep into her &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;font-family: Arial;"&gt;EYES&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; and tell her you love her.&lt;br&gt;38. Lay down under the &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;font-family: Arial;"&gt;STARS&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; and put her head on your chest so she can listen to the steady beat of your heart. Link your fingers together while you whisper to her as she rests her eyes and listens to you.&lt;br&gt;39. When walking next to each other grab her &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;font-family: Arial;"&gt;HAND&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;br&gt;40. When you hug her &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;font-family: Arial;"&gt;HOLD&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; her in your arms &lt;strong&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;font-family: Arial;"&gt;as long as possible&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;font-family: Arial;"&gt;Remember to show her that she's LOVED..&lt;v:shape id="_x0000_i1035" style="width: 21.75pt;height: 21.75pt;" type="#_x0000_t75" alt=""&gt; &lt;v:imagedata o:href="http://images.multiply.com/common/smiles/love.png" src="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CPrez%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_image003.png"&gt;&lt;/v:imagedata&gt;&lt;/v:shape&gt; &lt;v:shape id="_x0000_i1036" style="width: 21.75pt;height: 21.75pt;" type="#_x0000_t75" alt=""&gt; &lt;v:imagedata o:href="http://images.multiply.com/common/smiles/love.png" src="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CPrez%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_image003.png"&gt;&lt;/v:imagedata&gt;&lt;/v:shape&gt; &lt;v:shape id="_x0000_i1037" style="width: 21.75pt;height: 21.75pt;" type="#_x0000_t75" alt=""&gt; &lt;v:imagedata o:href="http://images.multiply.com/common/smiles/love.png" src="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CPrez%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_image003.png"&gt;&lt;/v:imagedata&gt;&lt;/v:shape&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;font-family: Arial;"&gt;41. Call or text her at night to wish her &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;font-family: Arial;"&gt;SWEET DREAMS&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;v:shape id="_x0000_i1038" style="width: 16.5pt;height: 16.5pt;" type="#_x0000_t75" alt=""&gt; &lt;v:imagedata o:href="http://images.multiply.com/common/smiles/phone.png" src="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CPrez%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_image017.png"&gt;&lt;/v:imagedata&gt;&lt;/v:shape&gt; &lt;v:shape id="_x0000_i1039" style="width: 16.5pt;height: 16.5pt;" type="#_x0000_t75" alt=""&gt; &lt;v:imagedata o:href="http://images.multiply.com/common/smiles/star.png" src="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CPrez%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_image013.png"&gt;&lt;/v:imagedata&gt;&lt;/v:shape&gt;&lt;br&gt;42. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;font-family: Arial;"&gt;COMFORT&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; her when she cries and wipe away her tears.&lt;br&gt;43. Take her for &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;font-family: Arial;"&gt;LONG&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; walks at night.&lt;br&gt;44. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;font-family: Arial;"&gt;ALWAYS&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; Remind her how much you love her.&lt;br&gt;45. Sit on top of her and tell her how much u love her and then bend down to her face and kiss her while sitting on her.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;font-family: Arial;"&gt;You'll never know when she needs just a little bit more love.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;ang galing :) majority ng nandito ginawa at ginagawa ni Chito :) whhhhooooot! &lt;3&lt;br&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;font-family: Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-3197649944329967877?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/3197649944329967877/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=3197649944329967877' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/3197649944329967877'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/3197649944329967877'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2008/12/because-aleli-and-i-are-in-love.html' title='Because Aleli and I are in love :)'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-2807453082003494192</id><published>2008-12-27T05:49:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-27T10:49:13.338+08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's just like driving a car..for the first time.</title><content type='html'>There are a lot of things to be remembered when you are driving a car. How to hold the steering wheel right, how to use the pedals, how to sit properly, how to focus your eyes, how to start the engine, how to use the signals, etc. These things are basically easy..except when they are all mixed up. No, not that I am so expert in driving. In fact, I myself am not learned of driving yet. But I want to learn. I want to drive.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;There are two kinds of cars, the manual and the automatic. Which is harder? Of course, the automatic. I've heard people say that it's better if you learn how to drive first by using a manual car, and then the automatic won't be that hard to understand anymore. I think the logic in here is that one must learn the harder one first, and then the easy one won't be that difficult anymore.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Of course, you can't avoid accidents. There are no perfect first times, right? There will be the uncontrollable halts, the bumps that will hurt your body, the trash cans that you'll break, and more. You can't avoid the major accident as well, like bumping on a hard wall, or bumping on another car. A lot of things can happen. You need to have courage to have the strength you need to try driving a car for the first time.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Driving a car for the first time can really make you nervous..but it is, with out a doubt, exciting. When you hold that steering wheel for the first time, you feel like you can take control of the rest. Only to find out that holding it is the easiest part. The harder part is holding it, at the same time, manipulating the other functions of the car. It's quite complicated, if you'll look at it, but in time, when your body finally memorizes each and every function of the car, you will finally sigh a relief.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;So why am I blogging about this? You see, driving a car is just like handling a relationship. Although you know the parts and you know how they function, it gets complicated when things are getting mixed up. You can't avoid accidents, no matter how big or how small it may be. But it takes time to learn. And when you get used to it, you'll see that it wasn't as hard after all. It takes a lot of courage to take the risk of bumping, of getting hurt, of losing the the car, the one you love. And yet, you know that everything will be worth it, for as long as you have someone beside you, on the passenger seat, holding your hand when you need to know that you have someone with you, looking for cars to avoid bumping, checking the other side of the road to avoid accidents. It's going to hard at first, but as you go along, you'll realize how the simple ride can change your life.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;He and I had &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;that&lt;/span&gt; accident. I thought I lost him. He thought he lost me too. But no, we hung on. And now, we're on the road again, willing to take another chance to learn how to drive. Although we hit a hard wall, we survived. We're still together. He's driving and I'm riding. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;He said something to me that touched my heart while we were talking about this. He said, "&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I'M GLAD YOU WORE YOUR SEATBELT&lt;/span&gt;." Sweet :) He's being extra careful now. We're taking things slow. We're enjoying the ride, like how we're supposed to. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-weight: bold;"&gt;Thank you for this another ride, hun. No matter how bumpy the road may be, how dark the streets will be, I'll be with you. This trip is ours. It's our ride :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div style="width: 300px;"&gt;&lt;object width="300" height="110"&gt;&lt;param name="allowScriptAccess" value="never"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://media.imeem.com/m/rEFQbahhKS"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed allowscriptaccess="never" src="http://media.imeem.com/m/rEFQbahhKS" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="300" height="110"&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div style="padding: 1px;background-color: rgb(230, 230, 230);"&gt;&lt;div style="padding: 4px 4px 0pt 0pt;float: left;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imeem.com/"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.imeem.com/embedsearch/E6E6E6/"  ="" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;form method="post" action="http://www.imeem.com/embedsearch/" style="margin: 0pt;padding: 0pt;"&gt;&lt;input name="EmbedSearchBox" type="text"&gt;&lt;input value="Search" style="font-size: 12px;" type="submit"&gt;&lt;div style="padding-top: 3px;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/form&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-2807453082003494192?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/2807453082003494192/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=2807453082003494192' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/2807453082003494192'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/2807453082003494192'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2008/12/it-just-like-driving-carfor-first-time.html' title='It&amp;#39;s just like driving a car..for the first time.'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-4736038561556208201</id><published>2008-12-24T09:30:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-24T14:30:43.762+08:00</updated><title type='text'>A little of a lot.</title><content type='html'>It's the time of the year again when people do not remove the wonderful smile on their lips, the goodness in their thoughts, and the love in their heart.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;The 08 year was not that good. Everyone, globally, felt the crisis of the world not just socially, but also environmentally. A lot of stories were added in history. A lot of people rose up. A lot of things, in every person's life, happened.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;My life was not rather different from the rest. I've had my usual up's and down's, joys and sorrows, problems and solution. It's life, isn't? Although, somehow, I can say that 08 was a struggle for me. I've been through a lot and I've grown up because of that struggle. It was horrible. I guess, it took a while before I realized that I was old enough to handle things.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Despite that struggle, 08 is one of my happiest years. You see, I've lost people but I regained them. I've met someone that I want to spend the rest of my life with. I've been attached to my emotions and it was hard to untangle myself. I've learned a lot in this year.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I thought I lost my friends..only to find out, I haven't&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;Things were rough for us in the middle of 08. We've said words that hurt each other, we've done things that were misunderstood. It was our dark period. But then, we proved that no matter what happens, a friendship built in rocks will always stand firm. I'm glad that the wrongs were made right and the sad times were dominated by the lovely ones. I thought I lost them. I'm glad I didn't. I've loved them too much before, and I still love them as much now.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I met someone who painted my world with beautiful colors&lt;br&gt;&lt;/span&gt;This is known to almost all my friends. Everyone knows how thankful I am to have met Chito. The first half of my 08 was quite bad. But I'm just glad that on the second half (literally), I met him..no, actually, I'm glad because I had him. He was the best birthday gift I've received. He's my Christmas gift too!:) I want him to be with me for God knows how long. But I hope, it's as long as the life He would give me. I love him, and I'm proud to tell everyone how much! :)&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;My best friend and  new-found best friend..my favorite couple in the world&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;Aina and  Benjo :) How can I repay them for everything they've done for me? I wish I know how. I love them both. Chito and I would not be where we are with out their efforts. My best friend, Aina, has always been there for me, with or with out a boyfriend for us. I'm so happy to have her. I want to let her feel that. I want her to know that I love her, always and forever :) And Benjo, my new-found best friend, Chito's best friend, has always been nice to me ever since. I'm so glad we're friends. And 08 let us become closer. Of all the things that had happened, I can say that we're closer than ever. Right Me?:)&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;My 18th&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;Need I say more? I've changed, I know. I told myself I'd have a new life after my 18th. And so I did. I tried to become better, and I hope I did become better. I'm not perfect, of course. I've had mistakes. I've had flaws. But then, since I'm old enough, I know how to make things right. My 18th is a significant turning point in my life. I never thought it would be that big. I am thankful. Definitely :)&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;These are just 3 of the many things I'd like to acknowledge on my 08. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;This is just a little of a lot&lt;/span&gt;. I have to thank a lot of people, I have to remember a lot of memories. A lot of people believe that 08 wasn't so good. But as for me, I think 08 had a fair share of good and bad. And no matter what, I'm so glad for all the things I've had and I didn't have for 08.&lt;br&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;   &lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-4736038561556208201?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/4736038561556208201/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=4736038561556208201' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/4736038561556208201'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/4736038561556208201'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2008/12/little-of-lot.html' title='A little of a lot.'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-2664290078820629624</id><published>2008-12-18T18:13:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-18T23:13:35.591+08:00</updated><title type='text'>What I want for Christmas</title><content type='html'>Okay. So this may seem so contradicting to my previous blog but I think it's okay. Haha. I have  list of the THINGS I want for Christmas eh:)) Oh well. I think I've got the non-material things I want this Christmas. Yeaaah. That's for my next blooooog :)&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;HERE ARE THE THINGS I WANT FOR CHRISTMAS :) ANYONE NICE AND ANYONE WHO LOVES ME SO MUCH THAT YOU'LL GIVE ME ANY OF THESE?:) THANK YOOOOU!&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;1. Sanuk sandals - Plain Jane&lt;br&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img style="width: 162px;height: 95px;" src="http://www.katinsurf.com/d_images/SWF1014_black-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;2. ODM SPIN!&lt;br&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.redfingerprint.com/image/watches/ODM_00/ODMDD100-2_small.jpg"&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;3. Canon EOS 1000D&lt;br&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img style="width: 154px;height: 144px;" src="http://www.letsgodigital.org/html/review/canon/eos1000d/camera/canon-eos-1000d.jpg"&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;4. MACBOOK 13" - Greenest Macbook Ever&lt;br&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img style="width: 168px;height: 121px;" src="http://images.apple.com/macbook/images/enviro-hero20081014.jpg"&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;5. SONY ERICSON C902&lt;br&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img style="width: 135px;height: 149px;" src="http://www.mobilegazette.com/handsets/sony-ericsson/sony-ericsson-c902/sony-ericsson-c902-combo.jpg"&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;6. MONEY FOR D'CATCH THAILAND :) - 30,000 php lang oh. bigyan nio na ako :))&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;7. Cute dress that I can wear casually sa mall or kapag umaalis.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;8. Jacket with a cute print and side pockets.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;9. Any book of Sidney Sheoldon (except for Stars Shine Down)&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;10. Blue checkered shorts - you can buy it at human :)&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;11. Cute statement shirt.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;12. That sleeveless at FnH with blue horizontal stripes.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;13. A cute newsboy cap.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;marami pa akong gusto actually:)) haha. pero yeah. yan ang mga gusto ko as of the moment :))&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;TO BE HONEST, I ALREADY HAVE THE NUMBER ULTIMATE NUMBER ONE ON MY WISHLIST. IT'S NOT A MATERIAL THING. I ASKED GOD TO GIVE ME MY ULTIMATE NUMBER ONE WISH THIS CHRISTMAS. AND HE DID. HE GAVE ME :)&lt;br&gt;   &lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-2664290078820629624?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/2664290078820629624/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=2664290078820629624' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/2664290078820629624'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/2664290078820629624'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2008/12/what-i-want-for-christmas.html' title='What I want for Christmas'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-6987135443777171148</id><published>2008-12-12T19:35:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-13T00:35:46.637+08:00</updated><title type='text'>LOVE.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="font-family: Verdana;" id="item_body" class="bodytext" author="rizhu" author_possessive="rizhu's"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;LOVE QUESTIONS GRABBED FROM &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;CATH :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1. ARE YOU CURRENTLY IN A RELATIONSHIP? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;- YUP :) &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;2. HAVE YOU EVER BEEN GIVEN A ROSE?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"&gt;- YEAH.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;3. WHAT IS YOUR ALL-TIME FAVORITE LOVE STORY MOVIE?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"&gt;- WINDSTRUCK PERO MEJO TRAGIC. ANOTHER IS THE NOTEBOOK :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;4. ARE YOU IN-LOVE RIGHT NOW?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"&gt;- VERY MUCH, MY DEAR :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;5. DO YOU BELIEVE THAT EVERYONE HAS A SOULMATE?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"&gt;- I BELIEVE THAT  GOD CREATED SOMEONE TO BE OUR PERFECT OTHER HALF. IF YOU CALL THAT A SOULMATE, THEN I BELIEVE :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;6. WHAT'S YOUR CURRENT PROBLEM?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"&gt;- ON LOVE? WELL, IT JUST GOT BETTER TODAY. WALA PANG PROBLEM :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;7. HAVE YOU EVER HAD YOUR HEART BROKEN?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"&gt;- A COUPLE OF TIMES.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;8. WHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT ON-LINE OR LONG DISTANCE RELATIONSHIPS?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"&gt;- LDR : SOMETHING HE AND I CAN HANDLE :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;9. HAVE YOU EVER SEEN A FRIEND MORE THAN A FRIEND?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;- HMMMM.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;10.  THE PERSON YOU ARE WITH RIGHT NOW, DO YOU WANT TO SPEND YOUR LIFE WIT HIM?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"&gt;- YEAAAAAH :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;11.  HOW MANY KIDS DO YOU WANT TO HAVE?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"&gt;- 2. A BABY GIRL AND A BABY BOY.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;12. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE COLOR?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"&gt;- BLUE :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;13. WHO IS YOUR CELEBRITY CRUSH?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"&gt;- I HAVE A LOT :))&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;14. DO YOU BELIEVE YOU TRULY LOVE ONCE?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"&gt;- I GUESS SO..?:)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;15. IMAGINE YOU'RE 40 AND YOUR SPOUSE JUST DIED, DO YOU WANT TO GET RE-MARRIED?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"&gt;- NO. I'D SPEND THE REST OF MY LIFE TAKING CARE OF OUR FAMILY.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;16. DO YOU BELIEVE IN LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"&gt;- WELL, NO ACTUALLY. LOVE IS SOMETHING DEEP. SOMETHING THAT NEEDS TIME TO LET IT GROW :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;17. WHAT SONG DO YOU WANT TO BE PLAYED ON YOUR WEDDING?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"&gt;- WELL, I HAVE NOTHING DEFINITE YET :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;18. DO YOU LIKE ANYONE?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"&gt;- I'M IN LOVE!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;   &lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-6987135443777171148?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/6987135443777171148/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=6987135443777171148' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/6987135443777171148'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/6987135443777171148'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2008/12/love.html' title='LOVE.'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-5129352202196843564</id><published>2008-12-11T15:05:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T20:05:22.895+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Of a grown up Christmas.</title><content type='html'>It's almost halfway December and it's just usual to see Christmas lights and Christmas decors everywhere. It's just commom to feel the cold air every night. It's just ordinary to see little kids going to every home in the neighborhood to sing songs. It's the holiday season. It's Christmas. And it's just fair that it be celebrated in every kind of way.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;It's my 18th Christmas.I have always wondered what difference it would make when I turn 18. How will my Christmas be like now that I'm 18? Will I still be the kid who'd wish to Santa and pray to God that her wish be granted? Will I still be waiting for Santa outside our house? Will I still be excited to open my gifts under the Christmas tree? Will I still wake up early to go to my grandparents house to ask for Christmas gifts?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I guess it's a lot different now. There are things in this world that make me see the realities. It's different, that's for sure. But just like the what's written in the Starbuck Planner '09 (well, I can't remember the exact words),it said that we should accept that there are things that should not change...and that there are things that should.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I used to wish for toys, clothes, bicylces..those things that,well, those &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-style: italic;"&gt;things&lt;/span&gt;. I still wish though. But I don't wish for material things anymore. You see, I find myself very lucky for having more immaterial things rather than the material things. Well, yes of course, I &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;want some things.&lt;/span&gt; But these are not the ones I ask Santa for. I learned that in this world, if you wish for something, it's better if you work to get them. It feels even better when you know you got them because you worked hard for them. Plus, if you got them through your efforts, you'll surely take care of them because you don't want your efforts to be just thrown away.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Christmas season makes me excited not just because of the gifts I'll receive, new clothes I'll buy, money that I'll get. I'm excited because Christmas is the time of the year when I feel like our family is care free, like we don't care about tomorrow, like it's &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;our&lt;/span&gt; holiday. I feel the love more than anything else. I see my parents smile because they can see us, their kids, playing together, laughing with each other, and appreciating their gifts to us. I think they smile, too,because they can see us growing up. You know, that feeling of nostalgia that happy moments bring to parents? I think my parents feel it often lately. And for the past few Christmases, I can always see their faces light up when we act childishly.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Also, Christmas is the day when we don't care about tomorrow, when Dad would leave for work and wait for another 2 weeks to see him again. We don't care about tomorrow, when I'll leave and be in Manila for 5 days. We don't care because we know that tomorrow is another happy day that we are all together..complete. I think if my parents can have one wish granted, it'll be that weall live under one roof. Dad works in Cebu, I live in Manila. It's hard to be away. This is something that no one else will understand I guess. And for this reason, I always look forward to Fridays, to going home and inmy weekend with them, my family.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I guess it will not be about opening gifts for me this Christmas. It's about watching everyone in the family laughing, smiling and feeling the bliss of having a great family. I know for this Christmas, I will still be the kid who'd wish to Santa and pray to God that her wish be granted. I'd be wishing with my heart and through my heart. I will still be waiting for Santa outside our house. And in my heart I know, the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;best Santa will always be my parents and God&lt;/span&gt;. I will still be excited to open my gifts under the Christmas tree and wait for my parents face to lighten up when they see my appreciation. It's the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;love, the happiness, the satisfaction and contentment, &lt;/span&gt;more than any etravagant gifts, clothes, and Noche Buena that will surely perfect this season.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;It may be my grown up Christmas but 'd still use the heart of the kid I used to be in believing in the spirit of Christmas.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;p.s. God gave me one of my wishes this for Christmas. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-style: italic;"&gt;YOU&lt;/span&gt; know this :)&lt;br&gt;Thank you,Papa God!&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;object height="110" width="300"&gt;&lt;param name="allowScriptAccess" value="never"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://media.imeem.com/m/wv_9cz2YV3"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed allowscriptaccess="never" src="http://media.imeem.com/m/wv_9cz2YV3" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="110" width="300"&gt;&lt;/object&gt;  &lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-5129352202196843564?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/5129352202196843564/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=5129352202196843564' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/5129352202196843564'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/5129352202196843564'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2008/12/of-grown-up-christmas.html' title='Of a grown up Christmas.'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-4597309774598465077</id><published>2008-12-08T12:15:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T17:15:14.012+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I don't mind feeling the cold breeze</title><content type='html'>It’s 5:45 pm when I looked at my watch. I sat on the blanket that we laid on the grass of the park where we decided to stay. We wanted to feel the breeze of the December for tonight. It's been a while since we sat together to just sit down. It’s been a while since we spent time together. We haven’t seen each other for a while and I miss him. I’m a bit unsure if he missed me too. But the fact that he was the one who invited me to spend the night with him, it means something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I’m glad you went out with me”, he said in a soft but manly voice. I gave him a sweet smile. “I’m glad you invited me”, I then said. His lips painted a smile. We lied down to feel the breeze, to feel the cold air. I wanted to hold his hands, to hug him, to make him feel how much I missed him. But I didn’t know where to start.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was looking above the darkening sky, searching for nothing, thinking of whatever. I caught him staring at me. I let out a sigh. And then he caught my hand and held him tight. “I missed you”, he said. I didn’t know what to say. Should I tell him I missed him too? That maybe it was even more than what he thought? Or should I just let wonder what I really feel? “I know”, I said. I tried to smile at him but he looked at the opposite direction. I knew the answers to my earlier questions. I smiled. I didn’t need words to tell him how I felt. I didn’t need sentences to let him know that yes, I missed him too, so much more than what he thinks. I got his hand and squeezed it. He looked at me, at my eyes. I didn’t need to hear the words he had to say. I knew right then, he was glad that we were there at that moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The moment was interrupted by a phone call. It was his work. He said he had to do something important and he needs to attend to it. I asked him to stay with me, to just do what he had to do the next day. He stayed unwillingly and for the couple of minutes that he was with me, he felt uneasy and uncomfortable. “Are you okay?”, I asked. He nodded. Just a nod, with out any word. I knew then that although he was physically with me, his thoughts were away. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finally decided to let him go and do whatever he had to do. It was already fine with me, then. I’d rather let him leave than let him stay even though I know he wouldn’t enjoy the time anymore. And I knew I wouldn’t enjoy the time anymore too because his being bubbly and his humor were a part of the moment. I needed his attention and his heart. At that time, those things were gone. Although there was this disappointed feeling in me, I let him leave. I thought we would spend the whole night together. I thought we would talk and have fun. But then I had to understand why he had to leave me. "There's a next time anyway", I told myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I stared at the glittering sky. Stars were scattered and the moon beamed like it was smiling at me, like it tried to accompany me for the time I stayed there. I smiled to myself. Although no one was with me, I knew I wasn't alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I felt a bit lonely for the first few minutes of him being away. I wanted to be with him. I wanted to feel that I have someone to have and hold. But then the passing minutes told me that maybe I had to be alone first. I had to feel the cold breeze of December alone first. I had to enjoy with myself alone first. And so I did. I spent time with myself. I found myself appreciating what I had other than him. I felt free. I felt like the wind that moved to its own direction. I felt happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was late and I knew I had to go home. I fixed my things and decided to stand up. I was about to take my first step when I smelled a guy’s scent. I stopped and enjoyed the sensation. I was already smiling. I knew someone was behind me and I knew it was him. I turned to face him. He was smiling. Oh how I love seeing him smiling at me, like I can melt anytime. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“You should’ve gone home when I left”, he said. I looked at him with a sorry look. I fell silent for a while. “I wanted to go home but I was hoping you’d come back”, I finally told him. He let out a sigh. “For a while I thought I could postpone tonight. I’m glad you’re still here. I thought you already left.”, he explained. We started to walk while he held my hand. “December breeze is getting colder,” he whispered in my ear. “I don't mind feeling the cold breeze. You’re here to hug me and make me feel warm anyway”, I said with a smile. For a while we stopped and just felt each other’s presence. And then he hugged me tightly.&lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-4597309774598465077?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/4597309774598465077/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=4597309774598465077' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/4597309774598465077'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/4597309774598465077'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2008/12/i-don-mind-feeling-cold-breeze.html' title='I don&amp;#39;t mind feeling the cold breeze'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-621339447129272896</id><published>2008-12-01T04:13:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-01T09:13:40.515+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Wise men learn from the mistakes of others - Dad</title><content type='html'>I've never been in the hot seat at home before until last night. We were at my grandparents' house and when all of a sudden my dad asked, "&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;What happened with you and&lt;/span&gt; ".&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;So yeah. It's not bad. I mean, everyone was just there; my mom, my dad, my grandparents, my uncle and my aunties. I was like,"&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Wait, lemme explain.&lt;/span&gt;"&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I explained briefly. The summary of the long story he and I had. My dad commented and it was the very first time he did. It surprised me. He even said, "&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Mela, this is the first time I'm going to comment about boys..&lt;/span&gt;" You see, I could've felt the awkward feeling but I didn't.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;It was a hot seat, I swear. Everyone was talking all at the same time and all I can say was, "&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Wait, one at a time please.&lt;/span&gt;" But it was not a serious talk. It was a heavy topic but everyone was still laughing about it. I guess that helped. I did not feel the pressure because I sort of thought they understood how I felt.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;The elders told me a lot of things. Things about love, about life. General things actually about my life now and my life ahead. And with love, they said that I'll find someone someday. I shouldn't be in a hurry. I should just let the suitors court me. And then they even said that at this young age, I shouldn't be serious yet. How I wish I heard this before he came. Although I know I'm too young to be in a serious relationship, it takes words to convince me. I think they saw how I felt after the break up. As much as I wanted to hide how I felt, as much as I wanted to show them that it wasn't really a big deal, I guess they just know.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Now I'm glad about last night. It was the first time we actually &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;talked&lt;/span&gt;. I was relieved. I think it even gave me strength to move forward. I want to move forward..and I know I will soon. It took too much of my strength when I turned away. Now, I'm slowly regaining the strength to move forward..to take one step away.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;object width="300" height="110"&gt;&lt;param name="allowScriptAccess" value="never"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://media.imeem.com/m/5Gc3i5DOyd"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed allowscriptaccess="never" src="http://media.imeem.com/m/5Gc3i5DOyd" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="300" height="110"&gt;&lt;/object&gt;   &lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-621339447129272896?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/621339447129272896/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=621339447129272896' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/621339447129272896'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/621339447129272896'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2008/12/wise-men-learn-from-mistakes-of-others.html' title='Wise men learn from the mistakes of others - Dad'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-2307971301263338091</id><published>2008-11-28T19:16:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-11-29T00:16:45.933+08:00</updated><title type='text'>There's something about skittles.</title><content type='html'>"&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Do you want one?&lt;/span&gt;", he asked me. I wiped my tears and gave him a smile. "&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Sure, of course&lt;/span&gt;", I then said. He handed me the purple wrapped candy pack. "&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Skittles&lt;/span&gt;", I said with a grin. He knows how much I love eating these colorful sweet but a little sour candies. And he knows just how much these colorful sweet but little sour candies can make me happy...especially when I'm really sad.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;*****&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;"&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Are you sure you don't want to open that yet?&lt;/span&gt;", he asked me for the 3rd time now. I can't really tell what he was trying to express. Was it annoyance? Was it anger? Was it pity? Was it worry? Or was it love that made him feel every possible feeling towards my hard-headedness? "&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Yes, I'm sure"&lt;/span&gt;, I told him and again with a smile slightly painted on my lips. I started playing with the wrapper. I was thinking if I should open it and consume the candies. This is the last pack of Skittles he can give me for today. I don't want to finish it all at once. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;"&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Go ahead, open it. I know you still want some&lt;/span&gt;", he told me. "&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;It's okay. I can open it next time&lt;/span&gt;", I said. I decided not to open it yet. I stared at the purple thing on my hand. And then I looked at him. There's really something about skittles that eases the blues I have in moments like this one.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;*****&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"It's getting late. We should go now"&lt;/span&gt;, he said as he stood up and offered me a hand. "&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Can't we stay a little longer?"&lt;/span&gt;, I asked with a face I know he can't resist. He smiled at me and then kissed my forehead. "&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Take a sit, please?&lt;/span&gt;" I told him. I knew he was trying to fight the urge to sit again and stay a little while longer. "&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Can't we just do this next time?&lt;/span&gt;", he said with a pitiful face. I tried to convince him to stay for a little more while but I knew it was getting late and we had to get going."&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Alright. Help me tand up&lt;/span&gt;",I said with a weak smile. I stood up and we started walking. He held my hand but he let go after a while. "&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Thanks for spending the afternoon with me&lt;/span&gt;" I whispered in his right ear. "&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;You're welcome. I enjoyed the time too&lt;/span&gt;", he told me. We were already at the place where were supposed to part ways. So he hugged me tightly and then kissed me. "&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Here's your skittles, babe. I know you want this.&lt;/span&gt;" And then he opened my hand and placed the purple wrapped candy pack on top. "&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;You didn't have to but thanks&lt;/span&gt;", I said. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I hate the times when we part. It makes me sick. It makes me sad. It makes me weak.&lt;/span&gt; But then again, there's something about skittles that makes me happy. There's something about skittles that tells me,"&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;He'll be back tomorrow to give you another pack of Skittles.&lt;/span&gt;" And with that, I turn and walk away. Because I know, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-weight: bold;"&gt;tomorrow I'll see him again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-2307971301263338091?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/2307971301263338091/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=2307971301263338091' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/2307971301263338091'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/2307971301263338091'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2008/11/there-something-about-skittles.html' title='There&amp;#39;s something about skittles.'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-5847732990724337595</id><published>2008-11-25T15:30:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-11-25T20:30:52.699+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Masarap kasi ang Watermelon float.</title><content type='html'>Naglalakad ako sa daan ng Dapitan nang maalala kong gusto ko nga pala ng Watermelon Float ng Mcdo. Ilang araw na rin akong napapasaya nitong inuming ito. Hindi ko alam kung anong meron siya na nakakapagpasaya sa akin sa tuwing nalalasahan ko ito. May pitik sa dila ang "&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;acid&lt;/span&gt;". Nagdudulot ito ng masarap na sakit sa lalamunan. May tamis ang "&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;watermelon flavor&lt;/span&gt;"na masarap namnamin. "&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Ang sarap&lt;/span&gt;", ang sabi ko na lang sa sarili ko.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Gusto ko pa sanang bumili ng isa pa nang matapos kong inumin yung nauna. Ilang segundo rin akong nag-isip. Hindi, minuto na yata ang inabot. Hindi ako makapagdesisyon. Gusto ko pa. Gusto kong malasap yung sarap nung tamis, yung sarap nung sakit ng pag-agos ng "acid" sa lalamunan ko. Sa sandaling iyon, alam kong bibili pa ako para matugon ang kagustuhan ko. Oo, desidido na talaga ako.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Naglakad ako pabalik sa Mcdonald's. Nagpila ako at naghintay..siguro nasabik na rin. Pinagbigyan ko ang sarili ko. Heto na at malapit na akong makabili. Matutuwa na naman ako. Nagtanong ang babaeng nasa likod ng "&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;counter&lt;/span&gt;" kung ano ang oorderin ko."&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Isa pong watermelon float&lt;/span&gt;," nakangiti kong sagot. Sandaling pumindot ang babae ng kung ano sa computer. Tumingin siya sa likod at nagdalawang isip. Tinignan niya ako. Nakangiti siya ngunit alam kong may hindi siya magandang sasabihin. Ngumiti pa rin ako. "&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Ma'am, okay lang po ba kung walang yelo yung float?&lt;/span&gt;" Nag-isip ako ng mga ilang segundo. Gusto ko pa ba? Gusto ko pa bang malasap yung tamis at masarap na sakit na humahagod sa lalamunan? Gusto ko ba kahit alam kong hindi ako mapapasaya tulad nung dati kong pag-inom?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;"Sige po, okay lang." ang sagot ko. May matamlay na ngiti akong ipinakita. Iilang sandali lang, ibinigay na sakin ang Watermelon float na walang yelo. Hindi nag&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;float&lt;/span&gt; ang ice cream. Okay lang. Iniinom ko pa rin. Hindi masyadong masakit at masarap ung pagdaan ng "&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;acid&lt;/span&gt;" sa lalamunan ko. Huminga ako ng malalim. Nagsisisi ba ako? Nagsisisi ba ako dahil binili ko pa rin yung Watermelon float kahit alam kong hindi ako makokontento sa maibibigay niya sakin? Hindi. Hindi man ako napasaya ng Watermelon float tulad nang dati, napasaya naman ako dahil nalasahan ko pa rin siya, nainom ko pa rin at nawala ang pag&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;crave&lt;/span&gt; ko. Alam ko hindi permanente ang Watermelon float. Mawawala din siya isang araw. Kaya natutuwa pa rin ako dahil kahit walang yelo ang float na 'toh, nainom ko pa rin siya.Minsan wala naman sa lamig yan.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Wala yan sa nadudulot na saya na gawa ng ibang bagay na akala natin parte nung bagay na nagdudulot ng saya. Tulad ng Watermelon float. Ano ba talaga ang gusto ko? Di ba yung Watermelon float lang? Kaya hindi dapat ako manghinayang nung bumili ako kahit wala siyang yelo. Kasi sa una pa lang naman, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-style: italic;"&gt;Watermelon float ang gusto ko at hindi yung yelo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;  &lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-5847732990724337595?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/5847732990724337595/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=5847732990724337595' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/5847732990724337595'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/5847732990724337595'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2008/11/masarap-kasi-ang-watermelon-float.html' title='Masarap kasi ang Watermelon float.'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-115191788161075849</id><published>2008-11-21T14:30:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-11-21T19:30:10.801+08:00</updated><title type='text'>It wasn't bad, after all.</title><content type='html'>&lt;font style="font-family: Verdana;" size="2"&gt;Life can never be too perfect. Although we always try to make it one. It's not easy, of course. Who said it was easy? That's so wrong.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I'm not saying a regret the effort I made when I tried to make something perfect. When I was feeling the joy of the perfection, I felt it. I truly felt it. I've been happiest on those days, I swear. And although it has to be this way now, I'm not aching for the fact that I'll no longer have those days. It hurts to realize that something so great has to come to an end. But what else can I do right? I'm accepting the fact that it can never be that way again.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;It was like a fairytale. To some people who'll read this and knows what I mean, you've clearly seen how great the story was. It was the best, I can say. Unfortunately there is no happily ever after with it. No matter how hard I try to achieve that,it can't be. For in this reality, it's either it ends sadly or it does not end at all. Which is which right?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I'm not bitter or anything. I lost in the battle again. But I'm not angry. It's fine, it's okay. Not because I don't feel anything. It's because I know, it's better like this. Oh no, I don't want this. I hate what I'm doing okay? I hate giving up and I hate letting go. God knows how much I want this. How much I've prayed for this. But I guess, in this life, you can't have everything. I thought it was meant..we were meant. Oh well, maybe for a moment there, we were. You see, he was the best I've ever had. He made me happiest the most. He basically showed me how it felt to be taken cared of. It felt great. It felt wonderful. Only, it had to end.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I'm still glad though. Because for one moment in my life, someone like him passed. I thank him for taking care of me. I thank him for being there for me when I had no one else. I thank him for the efforts he made to make me smile. I thank him for loving me despite my imperfections. I thank him for making me experience a love that I thought was only real in storybooks or in movies or scripts. It was indeed a wonderful relationship.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Jut like a fireworks display, it started well and had a very enchanting portrayal. Only, it had to last only for a while. Maybe it did not have too much of whatever ingredients it needed. At least though, it made an effort to be majestic. Right?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;As for me, I still want to fight. Only I had no more strength reserved. As much as I want to go for the gold, I can't anymore. Not because I'm tired..it's because I guess I'm done. I loved him and I do still love him. But maybe, just maybe...I have to move on.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;It was a good reality. Actually, I don't want to go back to sleep anymore. But he has to leave and I won't have anything left to do. So I guess, I just have to go back to sleep. And who knows, when I wake up again, the right prince's kiss woke me up.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Life is filled with up's and down's. I'm sad, yes it's true. But I'm not angry. I don't feel any remorse. I want to just let go and be free. Just like the wind, who can sail to the east or to the west. Wherever it wants to. I'll be fine, I know. I promise.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;It's been wonderful to be a part of a great story. It's time that I say...&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;.....the end.&lt;br&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-115191788161075849?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/115191788161075849/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=115191788161075849' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/115191788161075849'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/115191788161075849'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2008/11/it-wasn-bad-after-all.html' title='It wasn&amp;#39;t bad, after all.'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-2652843621900219352</id><published>2008-11-16T09:56:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-11-16T14:56:58.256+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Globe.</title><content type='html'>So may unlimited calls na nga.&lt;br&gt;From 11 pm to 6 am.&lt;br&gt;To register, type UNYT&lt;space&gt;20 and send to 2868.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img style="width: 323px;height: 145px;" src="http://www1.globe.com.ph/img/VALLEY%20PSTREAMER%20ver2%20500x225.gif"&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Masaya :)&lt;br&gt;   &lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-2652843621900219352?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/2652843621900219352/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=2652843621900219352' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/2652843621900219352'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/2652843621900219352'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2008/11/globe.html' title='Globe.'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-4051288081202957824</id><published>2008-10-30T18:02:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-30T22:02:53.528+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The battle of life and death.</title><content type='html'>Today, I watched My Only U with my cousins, siblings and aunties. It was definitely a good movie, a must-see that is! The movie is a comedy-drama thing. It made me laugh and it made me cry as well. It was able to shift my mood easily. So much for review. You better watch it. It's worth your money, I swear!&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Funny how that movie was able to show the battle of life and death. There was a line in there that said, "&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Nasanay kasi ako na ako ang nang-iiwan at hindi ako ang iniiwan.&lt;/span&gt;" It's not exactly said that way but it was the same thought. In this life we have, it's almost so easy for us when we are the one who leaves and not the one left. But it's so hard to accept when someone we love leaves and the truth of being left behind strikes us. It's as if the world was brought to our shoulders. Sometimes, it's even hard to stand up again. It's like the people who have passed away used to be our crutches that with out them, we can't really stand up and worse, we can't really walk. But life is like that. Death will always be a part of us. Wont' it?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;* * * * *&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;They say the only constant thing in the world is change. The one who said that probably forgot about death. Life is such a wonderful blessing. But death isn't. That is a the common thought. But have you ever wondered why it's always assumed that death isn't a blessing? Maybe because in this life we have, we experience to live. No one knows what happens after death. Well, here on earth, once you're dead, you decay. But is that it? Death can be scary. Or should I say, death is scary. But what scares us? I think it's the mystery of it; and the thought that we leave the ones we love.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;* * * * *&lt;br&gt;In this world, we fight to live life and to escape death a little longer.There's this unsaid battle between our life and our death. But in the end, it depends upon us who wins. It can be life, if we live it to the fullest, or it could be death that the fear of it can ruin our life. People always say, "&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Live life to the fullest!&lt;/span&gt;" But it's never easy to live life to the fullest. There are things to consider of course, because the truth is, our mere survival is a constant battle as well. My dad always say, "&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Life is short, so enjoy it!&lt;/span&gt;" Every second counts for time is a precious gold. He's right. So maybe, it's better if we enjoy every second we have here. We can never know when our end knocks, right?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;* * * * *&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;What's so hard about dying after all?On the other hand, what's so easy about living? You see, we always find this battle in our minds and hearts. Once in a while, we think about how to live. But once in a while too, we think about how we'll die and where we'll go after. It's funny because we may not realize it, but &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;both of life and death scare us&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/span&gt; In the heirarchy of life, we must first think about ourselves. But this world gives us so many reasons to be selfless that is why in the end, we're scared to live fully and die easily because we know, somehow, somewhere, someone was touched by our existence. But also, in the other angle of thoughts, this world gives us so many reasons to be selfish that is why we're scared to give the people we love the chance live fully and die easily because we want to be with them..if only we can all reach forever. The other way of looking at is just be the first to leave. It's a selfish thought, if you'll think about it. Chito and I were talking about death lately and we both want to go first. Neither wants to be left behind. Of course, it's even more painful to be left behind. So you see, it's just a matter of living longer or dying earlier. It's the battle of life and death. Whatever happens though, all of us will experience both.&lt;br&gt;&lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-4051288081202957824?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/4051288081202957824/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=4051288081202957824' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/4051288081202957824'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/4051288081202957824'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2008/10/battle-of-life-and-death.html' title='The battle of life and death.'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-3845669528847312200</id><published>2008-10-28T08:52:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-28T12:52:44.240+08:00</updated><title type='text'>So this is what you call a sembreak.</title><content type='html'>Yesterday was Monday and I was blabbing that it won't be good blah blah blah. Oh well. I can't really say it went out bad. But I can't say it went out well too. I woke up late, around 11 I guess. I turned on my laptop and I started downloading some online games. I downloaded Burger Rush! Whoop. So then of course I played. Gosh. I got so addicted that I got lazy to eat lunch. So yeah, you see , I just played. I was on my bed. Then at 4:30 I think, I ate my lunch. Then after eating I went back to my room and played again. I downloaded other games. Gosh. Then some friends came over and invited me to play basketball but I said I was lazy. Hahaha. So there, I played and played and played. Then I had dinner. Then I took a bath. Then I played again. I was just in my room, on my bed the whole time. The only time I stood up and went out of my room was when I ate and when I took a bath and when I talked with my friends. Gosh. The rest of the night, I was in bed. Chito and I talked til like 2 something am. Then after we talked, I sent a gm. Turns out, I have some friends who were still up too. Lol. Yeah, this is what you call a sembreak :)) I'm such a lazy bum kiddo.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;It's Tuesday. I don't have plans. What will I do? Yeah, stay in bed and text text text. After all, it's sembreak, my dear :)) Hahahaha.&lt;br&gt;&lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-3845669528847312200?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/3845669528847312200/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=3845669528847312200' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/3845669528847312200'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/3845669528847312200'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2008/10/so-this-is-what-you-call-sembreak.html' title='So this is what you call a sembreak.'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-2217930770351705381</id><published>2008-10-27T07:22:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-27T11:22:10.497+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Of Monday Mornings.</title><content type='html'>I used to hate Monday mornings. They seem to ruin a good weekend I just had. It's as if it is trying to spoil all the fun. Well, I really don't know why it seems like that.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;It's Monday today and I feel like it ruined my so-good weekend. But then at the same time, I feel like it's giving me new strength to move on. I don't exactly know what's with Mondays. Technically, it's not the first day of the week. But to what we know, yeah, it is the first day of the week. Well, see that. It brings confusion in the mind. Is it the first day of the week or is it just the second? We all know the answer but we feel different, right?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;So why am I blogging about some non-sense about Mondays? Nothing. I just wanted to somehow release tensions. Writing, or in this case typing, has always helped me release some senseless energy. I know what's with this Monday. Yeah there's something about it. But i don't care. I want to make this day good. After all, there's this belief that if you start good on Monday, you'll have the rest of the week good as well.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Mornings.Mondays.Mela.&lt;br&gt;M is my letter for the day.&lt;br&gt;&lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-2217930770351705381?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/2217930770351705381/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=2217930770351705381' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/2217930770351705381'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/2217930770351705381'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2008/10/of-monday-mornings.html' title='Of Monday Mornings.'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-9129270336648403573</id><published>2008-10-22T17:39:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-22T21:39:27.564+08:00</updated><title type='text'>My sweaty palms made a good start.</title><content type='html'>Today was the day I met his mom. Yes, HIS mom. What would you feel if you were me? Oh gosh. It was a terrible nervousness I felt. I was never this nervous in my whole life...I guess? Like what I told him, all the confidence I've saved up for the past 18 years disappeared. Gone was the Mela that can stand up in front of a big crowd with out any hesitation. I was suddenly afraid to see people. Oh gosh. OH GOSH.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I actually don't know how to write (type) this in a very clear, well-stated, emotionally filled manner. I want to pour my heart out. I'm so happy! Really. I can't explain how much! I've never felt this happiness before: the happiness of meeting the mom of the person I love. Oh gosh. It's...ahhh. I don't know. It's overwhelming!&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;So yeah,I was at school and I told him we might enroll earlier than planned. And he said, kung makakauwi naman daw ako ng maaga, I can meet his mom na. Oh gosh. I thought about it for how many minutes and finally decided na yeah...I'LL MEET HIS MOM NA. I was nervous, no doubt about that but at the same time, I WAS READY. I can't wait til his mom and I get closer. Haha. I know. Laugh about it pero I can imagine us laughing together na. Shocks. This is soooo. ughhh. But that's what I really felt. Haha. Anyway, they were at SM Pampanga so that's where I headed after the enrollment.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Eto na. I came sa SM Pampanga. Una kong nakita si Chito. Whoooo. At least nakapaglabas pa ako ng tensyon kahit papaano. Or I guess I got a little more nervous. Haha. Ewan ko bakit. My stomach was churning. Butterflies were everywhere. And yeah, my already sweaty palms started to get cold. OH NO. That's my cue. That's when I've come to my almost highest point of nervousness. I saw Chito's tita first so I blessed. She said my hands were cold. Haha. And then, this is it! I saw his mom. She looked nice but of course, I can't defy the fact that she's my boyfriend's mom and Chito is an only child. Mama's boy pa. Shooox. So there, I sad good afternoon and I blessed. And she said, "ang lamig ng kamay mo" *with a smile* There you go, that's how our first conversation went. :)) Thanks to my sweaty palms. Somehow, they did something good. Oh gosh. Pero hindi pa rin nawawala yung kaba ko at that time.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;We walked around. There were little conversations. It was nice walking with Chito and his mom. Ewan ko bakit? Eeeeh. Kahit kinakabahan ako, natuwa pa rin ako. Then nagyayang kumain si Tita. We ate at Yellow Cab at dito ung kwentuhan moment. We had a good conversation. Konting tanong. A little words of wisdom from tita. Ang saya! Hindi ko talaga madefine kung gaano kasaya. Yung tipong kahit times ten na yung kaba ko, okay lang kasi maganda naman yung mga nangyayari. Plus Chito was there. Oo, may times na iniinis niya ako sa harap ng Mama niya at may times na binbuko niya ang pagkakaba ko, pero I know those were just his ways para magpacute sakin :)) Haha. Kidding aside, he was there with me. He didn't bring me to his mom. We went to his mom together. And I'm really really thankful for that :)&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Naglakad lakad pa kami then umalis na ng sm. I thought ihahatid na ako but then nagdinner pa kami. Gosh. Kung sigurong makakasama ko si tita for a week, i'll gain 20 lbs agad! Haha. We just ate at around 5. Then nung 6:30 nagyaya na siyang magdinner. Goooosh. Nagdinner, then we went sa mall dahil may binili sina Tita. Then hinatid nila ako.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Eto yun eh! Hindi plano na magmeet na ang mga mommies namin but they met na rin!:) Ok naman eh. Hehe. Nagkwentuhan sila ng konti. I knew my mom was happy for me. First time kong ipakilala ang mommy ng boyfriend ko sa mama ko. Whooosh! Gosh. And then when it was time to go, I said bye and sabi ko kay tita, "it was nice meeting you po." Yieeeh. Tapos nagbeso si tita sakin! Yeees!:)) Whoo. Touch ako dun. Hndi ko expeeect. Eeeee. Kinikilig ako swear!:) I'm happy. I'm happy. I'm happy!&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;**magkatext kami ni Chito ngayon and he said ok naman daw ako *sa feedback* sa mom and tita niya. Well umaapaw ang happiness namin dahil pasado ako kay mama niya! Yey! Pero siyempre first meeting pa lang toh. More to come!!!:) Hahahaha. I am sooooo happy:) Maganda ang first impression ni Tita sakin!:) Yeyeeee!:)&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;So you wanna see her? Here she is. Chito took this sa Yellow cab :)&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img style="width: 333px;height: 248px;" src="http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/Louis336.jpg"&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img style="width: 340px;height: 253px;" src="http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/Louis335.jpg"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-9129270336648403573?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/9129270336648403573/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=9129270336648403573' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/9129270336648403573'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/9129270336648403573'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2008/10/my-sweaty-palms-made-good-start.html' title='My sweaty palms made a good start.'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-2995448162450275214</id><published>2008-10-21T19:38:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-21T23:38:03.864+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Just some thoughts.</title><content type='html'>When love comes your way..&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;You begin to believe the things you used to doubt.&lt;br&gt;You begin to enjoy the things you used to hate.&lt;br&gt;You begin to agree with the things you used to contradict.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Love can complicate things. But at the end of the day, you know that love is the only reason why you still survive in the reality of life.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;just a thought :)&lt;br&gt;good night!&lt;br&gt;   &lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-2995448162450275214?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/2995448162450275214/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=2995448162450275214' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/2995448162450275214'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/2995448162450275214'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2008/10/just-some-thoughts.html' title='Just some thoughts.'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-2961837960392397604</id><published>2008-10-20T17:29:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-20T21:29:09.739+08:00</updated><title type='text'>First sem wasn't that bad after all.</title><content type='html'>Saw my grades. Actually, I've seen them last week pa pero hindi ko mapaniwalaan na grades ko yun until makita ko sa eleap :)) Haha. Oh well. I'm totally satisfied. I was able to make my parents proud na ulit! Yey! :)&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;First sem wasn't that bad after all. That's just the way it goes. Sometimes you're up, sometimes you're down. It's randomly picked.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Oh well,I thank GOD for the sem. I've learned a lot and a grew even more. Thank you. Thank you :)&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Second sem, here I come!:) Good luck to me. Good luck to everyone!:)&lt;br&gt;   &lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-2961837960392397604?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/2961837960392397604/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=2961837960392397604' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/2961837960392397604'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/2961837960392397604'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2008/10/first-sem-wasn-that-bad-after-all.html' title='First sem wasn&amp;#39;t that bad after all.'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-8121904614557731991</id><published>2008-10-19T18:23:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-19T22:23:02.040+08:00</updated><title type='text'>When the world conspires.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;It makes me happy. It makes you happy. It makes us believe that the world can work together to keep us intact.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;"&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-weight: bold;"&gt;Looking at you from afar already makes me feel contented. What more when you're beside me, so close, enough for me to have and hold. What more when your arms are around me, your warmth I can feel, your scent I can smell. What more, when you're all mine :)&lt;/span&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;It was not one of those candle-light, with instrumentals on the side, dinner date. It was just simple. We had no place to go. We had nothing prepared. All we had was each other's company. But to me, it's more than just the simplicity. It was extravagantly special. Treasurable, if there's such a word, as I may say.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;First it was that unexpected seconds, which I think were long enough to be minutes, that your eyes and my eyes enjoyed each other's sight. We were in a crowded place. But in that instance, all I felt was you. There were no people around. Or yes, there were but I didn't feel their existence. It was like they were all part of a blur. You had me, right there and then. You had me speechless.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I was seated beside you. We had that bright incandescent light to surround us. It gave an extra glow of the moment. It was just a praking lot. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;That was just a parking lot, until we stayed there&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;. Now, there's more its being. You made that moment one of the most unforgettable I've ever had. We sat facing the highway where the cars passed by us. We talked and what came out of my mouth were words from my inmost. I looked at your eyes. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;We smiled and for a moment, I felt the world stopped. I know everything in front and behind us was moving rapidly. But all I saw was your face. I know everything around us created noise. But all I heard was your voice. I'm glad I was there at that moment. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I wouldn't exchange it even for the most expensive and most soothing time or even a vacation. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;It was one of the best days I can have in this lifetime&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;. I'm glad it is you I was with. I told you this is cliche, but I'll tell you again. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;When I look at you, face lit with a smile looking at me, I can see my world staring back at me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;. My heart just beats a little faster than its usual beat. It is endearing. It is satisfying. It makes me stop asking for more because I know I already have the best.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;We walked. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I swear I can walk a thousand miles if I walked with you. Your arm was on my shoulder and my hand around your waist. We walked and we didn't care about the world.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;You shouted you love me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;, and though I told you to stop, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;it made me blush&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;. You didn't see that, I suppose. The road was not litten well, so I can't blame you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt; It was nice to know that you can shout to the whole world that you love me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;. It showed that we were feeling the same emotion at that moment. We were happy to be in each other's arms. We continued to walk and talk. Still, we didn't care about anyone or anything. It was a very nice walk because it was a walk that only us can do. If best friends will walk that way, there wouldn't be as much blissful moment, it would only have the fun and enjoyment. If lovers would walk the way we did, there would only be blissful and there would be less fun and enjoyment. But you're my best friend and lover in one. That is why we call it unique. And add the fact that for that instance, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I felt like I owned the world. We had it to ourselves although people were everywhere. It was OUR world. It was OURS.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I know there will be more of these moments. But tonight, it was extra special. I knew we were feeling sad for the past days. We had arguments and blah blah blah moments. We even felt that the world isn't conspiring for us anymore. We were starting to feel that the world is beginning to be against us. But this moment, is just so wonderful. And this I want to tell you. I don't care if the world wouldn't conspire for us. I don't care if the world will be against us. All I care is us. I don't mind if the world stops believing in us. I don't need the world, after all. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Because no matter what, I know that both of us will fight to keep what we have right now strong and alive.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I love you &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;:)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img style="width: 337px;height: 242px;" src="http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/edited.jpg"&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;object width="300" height="110"&gt;&lt;param name="allowScriptAccess" value="never"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://media.imeem.com/m/_y5CRJK_zu"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed allowscriptaccess="never" src="http://media.imeem.com/m/_y5CRJK_zu" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="300" height="110"&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-8121904614557731991?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/8121904614557731991/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=8121904614557731991' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/8121904614557731991'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/8121904614557731991'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2008/10/when-world-conspires.html' title='When the world conspires.'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-5009882848489691321</id><published>2008-10-18T20:24:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-19T00:24:02.632+08:00</updated><title type='text'>bakit laging may apple?</title><content type='html'>I was browsing for some powerpoint template designs. And then narealize ko lang, because I was fed up with the same theme, uso sa buhay powerpoint ang design na apple sa itaas ng mga libro.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;What's with the apple, dude?:))&lt;br&gt;hahaha.&lt;br&gt;Oh maybe because of Sir Isaac Newton?&lt;br&gt;i was guessing.&lt;br&gt;hahahaha:))&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;   &lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-5009882848489691321?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/5009882848489691321/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=5009882848489691321' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/5009882848489691321'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/5009882848489691321'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2008/10/bakit-laging-may-apple.html' title='bakit laging may apple?'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-2419654151027479115</id><published>2008-10-16T19:01:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-16T23:01:50.448+08:00</updated><title type='text'>bakit ba kasi nagseselos?</title><content type='html'>Ewan ko din eh. Jealousy is such a strong word. I hate it kapag nagseselos ako. Shit. Really. It's annoying me. Like I feel somehow uncontrolled. It bugs me. Parang feeling ko I feel so conceited and so possessive. Hindi ko alam kung okay lang talaga na magselos o minsan i go beyond the limit na. It's really something I want to avoid. Eh kaso epal talga ang ibang tao eh. Nakakainis. No matter how hard I try to control myself to not feel jealous, I still feel it. Naiinis ako. Seryoso. Naiinis ako ngayon. Naiinis talaga.&lt;br&gt;   &lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-2419654151027479115?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/2419654151027479115/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=2419654151027479115' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/2419654151027479115'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/2419654151027479115'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2008/10/bakit-ba-kasi-nagseselos.html' title='bakit ba kasi nagseselos?'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-5021649150116737361</id><published>2008-10-16T17:26:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-16T21:26:58.577+08:00</updated><title type='text'>oh yeah. i'm bored.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" id="item_body" class="bodytext" author="mwahugs" author_possessive="mwahugs'"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;GUYS ASK:&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;1. Bakit kayo nagtataray minsan, kahit gentleman naman kami?&lt;br&gt;- IT'S DEPENDS ON THE MOOD, BABE.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;2. Bakit kailangan pa talagang sa washroom mag kuhaan ng picture?&lt;br&gt;- BAKIT? OKAY DUN EH. BECAUSE WE LOVE THE MIRROR. WELL, MAYBE KASI KAKATAPOS LANG NAMIN MAG-AYOS,O MAGANDA ANG REGISTER SA CAM? I REALLY DONT KNOW. WE HAVE A MILLION REASONS.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;3. Bakit PLAYERS ang tingin nyong lahat sa aming lahat?&lt;br&gt;- NOT REALLY. DEPENDE LANG SA DAMI NG BABAENG PINAIYAK. RIGHT?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;4. Really?&lt;br&gt;- YEP.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;5. Ano kami para sa inyo?&lt;br&gt;- TAO:) DUDE, WHAT ELSE DO YOU WANT? SLAVE?LOL.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;6. Why do you love POUT-ing?&lt;br&gt;- IT'S CUTE. HAHA. HEY, I'M NOT REALLY FOND OF POUTING.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;7. Bakt kayo namamalo ng balikat while laughing?&lt;br&gt;- EWAN KO DN EH. HNDI NA NAMIN NAPAPANSIN.LOL.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;8. What does it mean?&lt;br&gt;- NA SUPER NAKAKATAWA YUNG MOMENT. HAHA.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;9. Bat namimili kayo ng ka text?&lt;br&gt;- BAKIT? KAYO DIN NAMAN AH.&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;10. What do you like more? ung makulit o sweet?&lt;br&gt;- I LIKE BOTH :)&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;11. Bat may iba sa inyong tibo ang boyfriend?&lt;br&gt;- EH BAKIT IBA SAINYO, BADING ANG GIRLFRIEND? TSSK. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;12. Ano ba ang hanap niyo sa isang guy?&lt;br&gt;- ALL A GIRL WANTS IS SOMEONE WHO WILL LOVE HER FOR WHO SHE IS.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;13. Talaga?&lt;br&gt;- YEAH.WELL, I CANT SPEAK FOR THE WHOLE GIRL POPULATION. PERO YAN NAMAN UNG MEJO ALAM KO.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;14. Bakt kyo mahinhin? Ok lng nman samen kng hndi.&lt;br&gt;- YEAH RIGHT? PAG HINDI KAMI MAHINHIN, YOU THINK WE'RE EASY AND CHEAP. EEEH.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;15. Baket may 2timer sa inyo?&lt;br&gt;- EH BAKIT SAINYO MAY 5-TIMER? TSSK.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;17. Ano pa kaya...?&lt;br&gt;- EWAN?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;18. Bakit kayo naiilang ng walang dahilan?&lt;br&gt;- MAY DAHILAN. AYAW LANG NAMIN SABIHIN.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;19. Bakit may mga bansag kau sa kaibigan niyong lalaki?&lt;br&gt;- CUTE EH. BAKIT BA KAYO NANGENGEALAM.&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;20. Would you rather be called ate or miss?&lt;br&gt;- MISS :)&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;21. Kapag ka age lang?&lt;br&gt;- EITHER. OKAY LANG.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;22. Why?&lt;br&gt;- WHY DOES IT MATTER?LOL.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;23. Why do you believe in bulletin threats (e.g. repost this or else...)&lt;br&gt;- THAT IS THE LAMEST THING EVER CREATED ON EARTH.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;24. Ano'ng purpose ng pGsuSuLaT nG mEi dEsiGn?&lt;br&gt;- EWAN. I'M PERSONALLY HATING THAT.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;25. Bakt wala lng?&lt;br&gt;- ANO?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;27. Bkt mhilig kayo sa gwapo?&lt;br&gt;- BAKIT MAHILIG KAYO SA MAGANDA AT SEXY? NAMAN.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;28. Bat mhilig kayo umiyak pag may problem?&lt;br&gt;- IT'S OUR WAY OF RELEASING OUR EMOTIONS.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;29. Bat mas mraming girl ang nagpapaganda para sa mga lalaki?&lt;br&gt;- BAKIT MARAMING GUYS ANG NAGPAPAGWAPO PARA SA BABAE? GOSH. GANYAN ANG BUHAY NGAYON.LOL.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;30. bkit ang hilig nyong umiwas pag alam ng crush nio crush mo sya?&lt;br&gt;- KASI NAKAKAHIYA. I MEAN, PARANG NAGING AGGRESSIVE KA SOMEHOW.&lt;br&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;   &lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-5021649150116737361?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/5021649150116737361/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=5021649150116737361' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/5021649150116737361'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/5021649150116737361'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2008/10/oh-yeah-i-bored.html' title='oh yeah. i&amp;#39;m bored.'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-7566679718114036496</id><published>2008-10-16T09:06:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-16T13:06:43.808+08:00</updated><title type='text'>"then mela's laughing without a sound, cheeks colored red. she's now on the floor" -- Basa, 2008</title><content type='html'>Naconscious ako bigla. Wala ba talagang sound kapag tumatawa ako?:)) ahhh. grabeh. hahahahahaha. Di nga? Eeeeeh.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Kasi naman. Sabi ni Joan,sabi ni Nikko, sabi ni Toni..hindi daw malaman kung ung pagtawa ko still shot o video na naka-mute. Haha. Shemaaay. Dapat ba talaga may sound kapag tumatawa? Yung totoo?&lt;br&gt;hahahahahaha.&lt;br&gt;   &lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-7566679718114036496?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/7566679718114036496/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=7566679718114036496' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/7566679718114036496'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/7566679718114036496'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2008/10/mela-laughing-without-sound-cheeks.html' title='&amp;quot;then mela&amp;#39;s laughing without a sound, cheeks colored red. she&amp;#39;s now on the floor&amp;quot; -- Basa, 2008'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-3870886457209875105</id><published>2008-10-15T18:52:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-15T22:52:12.059+08:00</updated><title type='text'>pag naaappreciate mo ang corny, in love ka. di ba?</title><content type='html'>True, isn't? I'm in love at super corny ako. I admit that naman eh. Lol. Pero mas corny si Chito. Haha. But no, hindi un yung gusto kong i-blog. Well, it's about being corny. Haha.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;You see, sa text generation ngayon, uso ang mga banat. When someone sends you those corny banats like, "hindi ka pa ba pagod? kasi kanina ka pa tumatakbo sa isip ko eh", or that one that says,"scientist ka ba? lab kasi kita eh." Halos masuka ang iba kapag narereceive yon. Aminado ako, isa ako sa mga nandidiri sa mga yun noon. Pero i came to appreciate them dn somehow. Not because ganyan ang mga banat ni chito sakin. Haha. Grabe. Hindi siya ganyan bumanat. Haha. I came to appreciate them way before I met him pa. Kasi they made me laugh. Natatawa talaga ako sa mga banat na yan. Pero in a deeper sense, nakikita ko sa mga banat na yan that they are like bridges. Ginagamit yan ng mga torpe. Seryoso. And to be honest, kapag gusto mo ung taong bumabanat ng ganito, nakukuha ka di ba?I mean, aminin mo man o hindi, natatamaan ka. Haha.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;May mga ibang kacornihan pa. Mga batuhan ng mga linyang pang-teleserye. Okaya paggawa ng mga tagos sa damdamin na mga pangungusap. Okaya ung mga paggawa ng mga ka-cheesy-han tulad ng panonood ng mga bituin, paghiga sa kung saan para magstargazing at maghintay ng mga shooting stars, tapos magwish ng sabay. Pwede ring ibang ka-cheesy-han tulad ng pag-iisip na ng pangalan ng mga future kids niyo, okaya kung anong kanta ang ilalagay sa kasal niyo. Pwede mo ring idaan sa blog ang kacornihan. Yung tipong makikita ng maraming tao. Mas corny, mas sweet. Di ba? Marami, marami talagang kacornihan ang pwedeng gawin pag in love. Hindi mo na nga minsan namamalayan, corny ka na pala.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Natatawa na lang ako minsan. Pero gusto ko pag bumabanat si Chito. Kinikilig ako eh. Ewan ko ba. Kahit alam kong corny kami, naaappreciate ko pa rin. Minsan, kahit anong bagay na lang, basta may kaugnayan sakanya, naaappreciate ko. Ayan, ang corny ko noh? Haha. Sorry. In love ako eh. Aminado naman ako. Okay lang maging corny. Okay naman kasing ma-in love eh:)&lt;br&gt;&lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-3870886457209875105?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/3870886457209875105/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=3870886457209875105' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/3870886457209875105'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/3870886457209875105'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2008/10/pag-naaappreciate-mo-ang-corny-in-love.html' title='pag naaappreciate mo ang corny, in love ka. di ba?'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-4180757413021297688</id><published>2008-10-15T17:36:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-15T21:36:46.861+08:00</updated><title type='text'>OH NO!!</title><content type='html'>OKAY SO THIS BLOG IS FOR MY BESTFRIEND, AINA.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I promised you that i'll blog about it. Pero I can't let it out here. Really. May mga matatamaan so I better be careful. Eto lang.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;OH NO, AINA. MAJOR OH NO TALAGA!&lt;br&gt;HINDI PWEDE.&lt;br&gt;IT'S NOT RIGHT.&lt;br&gt;IT'S SO WRONG.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I know you get it.&lt;br&gt;i love you, always and forever :)&lt;br&gt;   &lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-4180757413021297688?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/4180757413021297688/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=4180757413021297688' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/4180757413021297688'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/4180757413021297688'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2008/10/oh-no.html' title='OH NO!!'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-9070140006178978802</id><published>2008-10-15T11:56:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-15T15:56:58.869+08:00</updated><title type='text'>angst on globe.</title><content type='html'>Oo, galit ako sa globe. Nakakainis. Kahapon kasi, pagdating ko sa pampanga, super duper late messages na. As in. I was still at the bus. Katext ko si Chito and he said he'll text me later kasi may gagwin siya. So ayun, ok lang. Nasa balintawak yata ako nung tinext niya un. Tapos nasa Sn Fernando na ako, hindi pa siya nagtetext. So hinyaan ko na lang kasi akala ko nakatulog siya or something. And then nung nasa Angeles City na ako, he called me up. He said nagworry daw siya because I wasn't replying to his messages. Ugghh. Uminit ang dugo ko sa globe. Kasiiii naman hindi ko narereceive ang mga messages niya. Nakakainis.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Tapos nag-away kami ni Chito kagabi. Nakakainis talaga. Alam mo ung super duper kailangan ko siyang makatext ng mabilis kasi we were arguing nga. Tapos bigla ang globe epal. Hindi ko agad nerereceive ang mga messages niya. Siya dn hndi niya agad narereceive ang mga messages ko. Tapos i texted him good night na may inis pa rin. Nakatulog na yata siya so hndi na siya nagreply. Pero eto un eh, ilang beses akong nagtext ulit sakanya saying I was sorry and that ayoko ng mag-away kami, na sana bati na kami..all those efforts. WTF. Wala siyang nareceive ni isa. So instead na maayos kami kagabi pa lang, ayun, umabot kaninang umaga. At natuloy pa ang away namin kasi hindi siya nagtetext sakin. I was expecting his reply kasi nga ang dami ko ng text sakanya kagabi. Tapos sa isip ko, bakit ganun siya. He didn't even bother to text a good morning at magreact man lang ng konti sa mga siabi ko kagabi. Ayun, nung okay na kami, nainis lang ako lalo sa globe. Okay na dapat kami eh. Hindi na dapat hahaba ung usapan. PERO DAHIL LECHE ANG GLOBE, WTF TALAGA. Sorry sa mga words pero galit lang talaga ako sa globe.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Sabi ng dad ko, globe's upgrading. Pero eto ang catch, late messages lang naman lagi pag nandito ako sa pampanga eh :| pag nasa Manila naman ako, okay ung communication namin ni Chito. Eeeeh. What's with Pampanga and Globe?! Kainis. Kainis talaga.&lt;br&gt;   &lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-9070140006178978802?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/9070140006178978802/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=9070140006178978802' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/9070140006178978802'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/9070140006178978802'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2008/10/angst-on-globe.html' title='angst on globe.'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-5598269505553088558</id><published>2008-10-14T18:10:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-14T22:10:16.289+08:00</updated><title type='text'>never gonna sleep alone again.</title><content type='html'>May workshop sa TOMCAT yesterday and kanina. So I had to sleep sa dorm para naman hindi ako super duper pagod sa biyahe at para hndi sayang ang pamasahe. Unfortunately, wala akong kasama. Can you iamgine? There were 4 double decks, 3 and a half were empty. My gosh.I was scared. Really. I'm not used to being alone. I mean, I've never been alone sa dorm until last night. Whoah. It was...freaky?Errg. I slept early para naman hindi na humaba ang takot ko. Then I slept with two lights on and the television on. Obvious na obvious na takot ako. Grabe. Haha. ALL FOR THE LOVE OF TOMCAT. Oh ha!:))&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Pero okay lang naman. The scary night was worth it. May natutunan ako sa TOMCAT workshop. Marunong na akong magkey frames sa premiere!:)) Haha. Tapos funnnnn kasama ang GROUP 1. Sana makapagbond pa kami:) Di ba? Funnnnn dn ang ca3 people. Hanep sa laughtrip ang WHITE TOP and BLACK DOWN ni Brezh na pinagkamalang salesman sa surplus shop. And then, mas benta pa rin ang head and shoulders. Grabe. When will I get over her? When will I get over head and shouldersh. Angel, my gosh. Thankssss for the laughtripppppp. Hahaha:)) Syempre papahuli ba ang pagbibilang namin ng mga taong nakahavaianas ni nikko habang nakaupo kami sa harapan ng CD-R king. Yeah, we sat on the floor. We were soooooo..ewan ko anong matatawag sa amin. But really, I had fun. Si tonie, bawat makitang picture ni angel, head and shoulders agad ang pumapasok sa utak eh. Hahahaha. And then si Joan...ang mga kwento niya:)) Haha. Wala lang. I love it when she tells stories. Ewan ko bakit. I love listening to her stories. Hahaha. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Masaya rin magshoot:) Fun kasama at makatrabaho ang group namin. Kahit umuulan, oh kahit abutin na ng ulan, go pa rin. Haha. Aye to Nikko the jack-of-all-trade but master of nothin. Director, scriptwriter at muntik ng naging editor. Hahaha:)) Looking forward sa next workshop!:)&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;All in all,Monday and Tuesday were ok. Well, except for the dorm part. Hahaha.&lt;br&gt;See you all next week:)&lt;br&gt;   &lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-5598269505553088558?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/5598269505553088558/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=5598269505553088558' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/5598269505553088558'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/5598269505553088558'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2008/10/never-gonna-sleep-alone-again.html' title='never gonna sleep alone again.'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-3297857963500402487</id><published>2008-10-14T17:26:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-14T21:26:35.454+08:00</updated><title type='text'>uhmmff..i really don't know.</title><content type='html'>Okay. So this is like the latest post.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I had fun with the CA3 people:) Nikko,Toni, Joan, Pam..and everyone else:)&lt;br&gt;Pati ang group 1 sa TOMCAT workshop.&lt;br&gt;Had FUN!!:)&lt;br&gt;Thank you!:)&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;So, what is the world's number 1 anti-dandruff shampoo?&lt;br&gt;SHEMPRE HEDANDSHOLDERSH.&lt;br&gt;uhmfff..i really don't know.&lt;br&gt;ambeeeenta pare:)) sweaaar!&lt;br&gt;hahahahaahahahaha.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;sorry, i never really liked her.&lt;br&gt;c'mon.&lt;br&gt;haha.&lt;br&gt;   &lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-3297857963500402487?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/3297857963500402487/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=3297857963500402487' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/3297857963500402487'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/3297857963500402487'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2008/10/uhmmffi-really-don-know.html' title='uhmmff..i really don&amp;#39;t know.'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-4999881097506764499</id><published>2008-10-12T20:01:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-13T00:01:14.092+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I can spend a whole day just listening to your stories.</title><content type='html'>    &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I have always proved that time passes by really quick if you're enjoying the moment.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Fiesta samin ngayon. Ininvite ni Mama si Chito. Akala ko it won't be a good day. But it turned out to be one great day:)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Chito came, of course. Pinakilala ko siya sa buong family ko na nandun. Ang saya. First time kong magpakilala ng guy as "boyfriend" ko. Seriously. It feels great. It feels...basta overwhelming:) Nagbebless ako sa mga tita ko, tito and lolo't lola. Tapos siya dn magbebless tapos ipapakilala ko, "boyfriend ko po." Eeeee. Ang saya, PRAMIS!:))&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;And then we were talking for almost 6 hours. Hindi namin namalayan na magaanim na oras na kaming nagkkwentuhan. Ang dami naming napagkwentuhan. Kinwento ko ung nangyari from the moment na nalaman kong nageexist ang isang Chito. And he told me his perspective as well. Ang saya. Ang sarap ng feeling. And then we were planning about our future, mga gusto naming gawin, mga gagawin talga. And my dad was like a foot away from where we were. So basically, he heard everything:)) Haha. But it's ok. Pero nafifeel ko talaga, my dad's still not getting the picture na may boyfriend na ang baby girl niya:)) Hahaha. I can feel it. Hindi lang nagsasalita ang dad ko pero he is really really, i don't know...he's really not accepting na may boyfriend na ang baby niya. hahaha. But I know, for as long as I can balance things, I can still walk to a good future, okay lang. He trusts me and I won't ruin that trust.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I can spend a whole day just listening to his stories. I won't get tired of hearing his voice, of seeing his face, of smelling his scent. I won't get tired of being with him: of just smiling because of his mere presence, of laughing because he's saying funny stuff, of realizing how lucky I am because I have him, of thanking God because he gave him to me. I won't get tired of always falling in love with him :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;img style="width: 318px;height: 303px;" src="http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/Picture-0586.jpg"&gt;&lt;br&gt;i love this! it's so cute :))&lt;br&gt;my lover and my best friend in one ♥&lt;br&gt;WE'RE ONE HUNDRED DAYS TOGETHER TODAY.&lt;br&gt;(10-13-08)&lt;br&gt;Happy 100th day, hun!&lt;br&gt;i love you :)&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;object width="300" height="110"&gt;&lt;param name="allowScriptAccess" value="never"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://media.imeem.com/m/Z0T-UxM4Wz"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed allowscriptaccess="never" src="http://media.imeem.com/m/Z0T-UxM4Wz" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="300" height="110"&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/div&gt;     &lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-4999881097506764499?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/4999881097506764499/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=4999881097506764499' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/4999881097506764499'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/4999881097506764499'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2008/10/i-can-spend-whole-day-just-listening-to_12.html' title='I can spend a whole day just listening to your stories.'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-1661875380774795593</id><published>2008-10-12T19:50:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-12T23:50:56.726+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I can spend a whole day just listening to your stories.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I have always proved that time passes by really quick if you're enjoying the moment.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Fiesta samin ngayon. Ininvite ni Mama si Chito. Akala ko it won't be a good day. But it turns out to be one great day:)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Chito came, of course. Pinakilala ko siya sa buong family ko na nandun. Ang saya. First time kong magpakilala ng guy as "boyfriend" ko. Seriously. It feels great. It feels...basta overwhelming:) Nagbebless ako sa mga tita ko, tito and lolo't lola. Tapos siya dn magbebless tapos ipapakilala ko, "boyfriend ko po." Eeeee. Ang saya, PRAMIS!:))&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;And then we were talking for almost 6 hours. Hindi namin namalayan na magaanim na oras na kaming nagkkwentuhan. Ang dami naming napagkwentuhan. Kinwento ko ung nangyari from the moment na nalaman kong nageexist ang isang Chito. And he told me his perspective as well. Ang saya. Ang sarap ng feeling. And then we were planning about our future, mga gusto naming gawin, mga gagawin talga. And my dad was like a foot away from where we were. So basically, he heard everything:)) Haha. But it's ok. Pero nafifeel ko talaga, my dad's still not getting the picture na may boyfriend na ang baby girl niya:)) Hahaha. I can feel it. Hindi lang nagsasalita ang dad ko pero he is really really, i don't know...he's really not accepting na may boyfriend na ang baby niya. hahaha. But I know, for as long as I can balance things, I can still walk to a good future, okay lang. He trusts me and I won't ruin that trust.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I can spend a whole day just listening to his stories. I won't get tired of hearing his voice, of seeing his face, of smelling his scent. I won't get tired of being with him: of just smiling because of his mere presence, of laughing because he's saying funny stuff, of realizing how lucky I am because I have him, of thanking God because he gave him to me. I won't get tired of always falling in love with him :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;img style="width: 318px;height: 303px;" src="http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/Picture-0586.jpg"&gt;&lt;br&gt;i love this! it's so cute :))&lt;br&gt;my lover and my best friend in one ♥&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-1661875380774795593?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/1661875380774795593/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=1661875380774795593' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/1661875380774795593'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/1661875380774795593'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2008/10/i-can-spend-whole-day-just-listening-to.html' title='I can spend a whole day just listening to your stories.'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-4293992882865883158</id><published>2008-10-10T15:28:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-10T19:28:30.561+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Would you mind if I read your mind?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I wish I can read your mind, so I wouldn't have to ask what your thoughts are, what you're thoughts will be, what your past thoughts were. I wish I can pass all the evasiveness and just go directly to what you're really thinking. So then I wouldn't have to assume or well, I wouldn't have to keep doing the wrong because I'm thinking it's the right thing. Paranoia will then leave my senses. True,  isn't?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;But life isn't like that. We have limitations. With as much as I want to hear your thoughts, read your mind..or whatever. I can't. All I'm left is reading your non verbal actions. It's hard though. Sometimes, no, actually, most of the time, I'm wrong. It's not a skill I've been blessed with. So you can imagine my frustration just to get near the things you can't put into words.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;What if I read your mind? Cool right?  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Wouldn't it be fun if I just read your mind instead of you having a hard time in trying to find the right words just to tell me what you're really thinking. If I can read your mind, would you mind if I read your mind?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;See, I perfectly know how hard it is to put thoughts into words. I experience it too. But maybe I'm just a little gifted with that. I say what I think. I let people know what my thoughts are. It's not hard to squeeze to release all the things in my min. But you know what? Sometimes, it pushes too hard that I say even those things that I shouldn't. And I'm doing that right now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;You wanna know what else is in my mind right now, other than this?&lt;br&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-style: italic;"&gt;November 5 must come quickly.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;object width="300" height="110"&gt;&lt;param name="allowScriptAccess" value="never"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://media.imeem.com/m/OvId9Felzn"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed allowscriptaccess="never" src="http://media.imeem.com/m/OvId9Felzn" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="300" height="110"&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-4293992882865883158?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/4293992882865883158/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=4293992882865883158' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/4293992882865883158'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/4293992882865883158'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2008/10/would-you-mind-if-i-read-your-mind.html' title='Would you mind if I read your mind?'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-1570887559099809609</id><published>2008-10-09T19:43:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-09T23:43:55.926+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Why,oh.. it's  sembreak :)</title><content type='html'>SEMBREAK NA!:)&lt;br&gt;5 more sems and I'm done (hopefully!)!&lt;br&gt;   &lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-1570887559099809609?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/1570887559099809609/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=1570887559099809609' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/1570887559099809609'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/1570887559099809609'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2008/10/whyoh-it-sembreak.html' title='Why,oh.. it&amp;#39;s  sembreak :)'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-6194188284725224048</id><published>2008-10-04T18:54:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-04T22:54:49.592+08:00</updated><title type='text'>celebrating is this FUN.</title><content type='html'>&lt;center style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;a href="http://mscarmela.multiply.com/photos/album/184/celebrating_is_this_FUN."&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;a style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);" href=""&gt;&lt;br&gt;I was so excited yesterday. I was excited about today. We're supposed to celebrate today. And we did!:)&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;We're celebrating two things today. &lt;br&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-style: italic;"&gt;1. Legal na kami.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-weight: bold;font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-style: italic;"&gt;2. Our third month together.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;It's our third month tomorrow, October 05. And we decided to celebrate today. Actually, we were not supposed to celebrate. Pinag-usapan na namin yan. No monthsaries. But then, legal na kami. So we decided last week na magcecelebrate kami today dahil legal na kami. Then yesterday, while we were on our way home, napag-usapan namin na we'll have cakes every month. So that means, we'll be celebrating every month na:)) haha. It's fun. Really. Trust me ;)&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;So our day together started at 4:15 pm. We met sa Nepo Mall and then went to Toll Haus to buy food. But before that, nagvisit kami sa church to thank God for everything, especially legal na kami. Finally, nakapagThank you na kami!:)&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;He bought Baked Mac and Black Forest Cake *thanks, hun!*. And then pumunta kami sa amin. Nadatnan namin si Mama na nagluluto ng siomai. She asked bakit may dalang food.Sino daw may birthday. Sabi ko kami. Hehe. Then she asked buti may pagkain? Then I said, "&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-weight: bold;"&gt;magcecelebrate kami kasi balu yu na na boyfriend ke&lt;/span&gt;." (&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;magcecelebrate kami kasi alam niyo na na boyfriend ko siya&lt;/span&gt;) Natawa si Mama and then she told us na hanggang boyfriend muna, magpakatapos muna kami. You know what, he promised my mom na magpapakatapos kami. He was so cute. Really. He was so determined. I like it :) And then nagkwentuhan with my mom. Kinwento ni Chito yung buhay niya. It carried a good feeling, yung makita ang boyfriend ko and ang Mama ko na nagkukwentuhan at ngumingiti.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I wanted to watch My Sassy Girl. So I asked Chito if he wants to watch. We were supposed to watch pero nawalan ng gana. It was ok though. We had fun, far better than just sitting ang watching My Sassy Girl. I made him read my latest blog. It was just a simple blog. Pero natouch ako because I got him speechless. I love it when I get him speechless. It was far better than any word in the world:)&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Then sabi ni Mama, kain na daw kami. We took a lot of pictures. Well, planado naman eh:)) hehe. So we took pictures nga, and then ate. Nasa isang table kami. Kwentuhan. It was fun. Kakwentuhan namin si Mama and mga kapatid ko. We knew we would enjoy this day but we never thought it was this fun. Sobra!:) Si Mama tumatawa tapos nagkkwento din. Then dumating ung Uncle ko. Kwentuhan din. About the economy and life and well, it was really a political topic. Pero there was also a little room left for *love* haha. And then kwentuhan and kwentuhan. Dumating sina Lola and Tita ko. Ayun. This was the part I enjoyed the most. Well, because it was really enjoying.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;You see, ikinwento namin ni Chito ang lovestory namin sa harap ng Lola, Tita at Mama ko. Grabe. Corny yun ah. Pero okay lang. We're both proud of our relationship, of how it all happened. Kinikilig pa sina lola, Mama and Tita. Isali pa pala ung kapatid ko, si Tin. It was really fun to tell our story. Summary lang ng lovestory namin actually, pero yun na rin yun. They asked bakit wala siya nung debut ko, what happened. So ayun, we told them the story. He was able to say that he loves me in front of my Mom, Lola and Tita! Sweet di ba? He even said that what attracted him to me were my eyes, that there was something in my eyes. Gosh. You can imagine kung gaano kacorny yung kwentuhan pero okay lang. Ang saya. Swear. It's the happiness I've been longing for for a long time. I've never been this happy with anyone. I'm so thankful that I have him. He's such an amaing person. I'm so proud of him. I'm so proud of us!:)&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;The day, or half day I suppose, is perfect!:) It can't get any better:) I was so excited last night about what will happen today. I was expecting silly pictures, funny faces, jokes, laughters. Guess what? What we had a while ago? It's far better and happier than anything we expected and we wished for. Thank God, He gave us each other. And he gave us and is continuing to give us the best days we can have!:)&lt;br&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;center style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;object width="300" height="110"&gt;&lt;param name="allowScriptAccess" value="never"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://media.imeem.com/m/AccB6S3mlj"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;a href=""&gt;&lt;embed allowscriptaccess="never" src="http://media.imeem.com/m/AccB6S3mlj" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="300" height="110"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-6194188284725224048?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/6194188284725224048/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=6194188284725224048' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/6194188284725224048'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/6194188284725224048'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2008/10/celebrating-is-this-fun.html' title='celebrating is this FUN.'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-8901330426711852679</id><published>2008-10-03T19:40:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-03T23:40:48.993+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Gusto ko ito.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img style="width: 432px;height: 324px;" src="http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/Louis001.jpg"&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br&gt;Hindi ko alam bakit. Eh ang dark naman. Ang labo pa. Pero gusto ko siya. Swear. Ang cute niya para sakin. Hehe. Parang mga bata lang eh. May lollipop pa. Tapos nakaupo pa sa kung saan. Haha. This picture is like a concrete proof of the youth in us. Bata pa kami eh:)) Tapos parang magkalaro lang kami na nagpapahinga pagkatapos ng isang nakakapagod na laro. Yung parang tumakbo kami papunta sa tindahan para bumili ng lollipop. Tapos bigla na lang umupo. At the same time, this picture shows the love:)) haha.Corny na kung corny pero nakikita ko ung love eh. Seryoso. Siguro yun ung reason bakit gusto ko ito. Well, lahat naman ng pictures namin gusto ko. Ewan ko anong meron dito bakit super gusto ko siya, parang napakaspecial niya. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;It's been 3 months since I permitted myself to fall in love with this person. I have and I'll never have regrets in taking the risk, in taking the shot of falling in love with him. That's a fact :)&lt;br&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;object width="300" height="110"&gt;&lt;param name="allowScriptAccess" value="never"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://media.imeem.com/m/rXqGkrqYwd"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed allowscriptaccess="never" src="http://media.imeem.com/m/rXqGkrqYwd" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="300" height="110"&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-8901330426711852679?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/8901330426711852679/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=8901330426711852679' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/8901330426711852679'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/8901330426711852679'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2008/10/gusto-ko-ito.html' title='Gusto ko ito.'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-6342940247106212318</id><published>2008-09-30T19:45:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-09-30T23:45:09.731+08:00</updated><title type='text'>He is , it is:)</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;On the dark, wet, slippery street, we walked together hand in hand.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;We braved the rain together despite the narrowness of the space.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;We kept each other warm.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;We never left each others' side.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;We survived the storm.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I love this day. It's one of the days I would treasure the most in my whole life. It's perfect. From the moment I opened my eyes, up to this very second I'm typing this. I love it!:)&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I woke up and the first message I read was his message. He just woke up, so did I. I was about to send him a message when he called. His voice, being the first voice I heard for the day, made a very good start. I was so energized. I felt a certain tinge of perfection for the day. It felt great:)&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Then came the afternoon. I went home. Pampanga. I waited 'til his class ended. I was at Booksale, looking for some good books to read, when I heard his voice call out to me. It carried a good sensation; a sense of happiness of knowing "he's here, with me, near me." We had fun. We ate at Pizza Hut and  talked about stuff. He met my best friend, Marvic. We ate the pizza, we drank the red iced tea, we took pictures. It was a cute date:)&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;We promised to drop by the church before going home. And so we walked. Unfortunately, or should is say, fortunately? Well, it was either way. It rained. Rained really hard. We got stuck at the mall entrance because it was the only shed near us. Then we decided to run so we can still get to drop by the church. And the rain got harder. Big raindrops freely dropped on the crowded street of Angeles City. We got stranded in on shed. There were like 8 of us there. We waited. I texted my mom to let her know I was in that place. Then she called and asked me if I wanted her to fetch me. I told her I was fine and I will just wait for the rain to stop. She said she'll pick me up but then I told her I was ok. So she asked me where I was and who was I with. I told her I was in the shed with Chito. I heard her nervous voice transform into a calm voice. I smiled. I knew right then, she trusts Chito. I'm glad about it*smiles*.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;The storm was worth it. We had fun together. We experienced a lot of things; running under the rain, singing together in the shed, buying cute pair-like umbrellas, running in the mall before the stores closed, watching the rain, waiting for the rain to stop, him hugging me because I felt cold, him making me feel safe despite the fact that the rain brought the bad feelings, him saying i love you under the rain. It feels so euphoric. I swear I didn't want the rain to stop a while ago. It was as if I can go on like that with him forever. I felt protected, I felt safe and warm in his arms, I was happy to be beside him in the middle of that heavy rain :)&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I love the rain. It enabled me to feel this feeling I have right now.&lt;br&gt;I love the rain. It gave me a chance to experience a lot of things a while ago.&lt;br&gt;I love the rain. It made me sing and didn't care about other people.&lt;br&gt;I love the rain. It created a world of our own in that moment.&lt;br&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-style: italic;"&gt;I love the rain, but indeed, I love him more.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;PS: The church was already closed when we got there. But we did say thank you even if it was already closed:)&lt;br&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;object width="300" height="110"&gt;&lt;param name="allowScriptAccess" value="never"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://media.imeem.com/m/NroW1YQCAM"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed allowscriptaccess="never" src="http://media.imeem.com/m/NroW1YQCAM" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="300" height="110"&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-6342940247106212318?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/6342940247106212318/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=6342940247106212318' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/6342940247106212318'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/6342940247106212318'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2008/09/he-is-it-is.html' title='He is , it is:)'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-6706212186985944055</id><published>2008-09-27T17:18:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-09-27T21:18:34.424+08:00</updated><title type='text'>FINALLY:)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;font style="font-family: Verdana;color: rgb(204, 0, 0);font-weight: bold;" size="3"&gt;Legal na kami ni Chito! &lt;/font&gt;&lt;font style="font-weight: bold;color: rgb(204, 0, 0);" size="3"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;:)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;font style="font-weight: bold;color: rgb(204, 0, 0);" size="3"&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;I'm so in love with him&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;font style="font-family: Verdana;color: rgb(204, 0, 0);font-weight: bold;" size="3"&gt;♥&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;   &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;img style="width: 291px;height: 219px;" src="http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/FORMLTPLY.jpg"&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;object style="font-family: Verdana;" width="300" height="110"&gt;&lt;param name="allowScriptAccess" value="never"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://media.imeem.com/m/dF-awi9dnm"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed allowscriptaccess="never" src="http://media.imeem.com/m/dF-awi9dnm" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="300" height="110"&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-6706212186985944055?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/6706212186985944055/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=6706212186985944055' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/6706212186985944055'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/6706212186985944055'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2008/09/finally.html' title='FINALLY:)'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-4162708273714660286</id><published>2008-09-21T16:55:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-09-21T20:55:43.961+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Passing by.</title><content type='html'>Sunday.Dorm.Shopping.Reminiscing.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;It was a fun day. Thanks to my sissy, Joanna Ko!:)&lt;br&gt;But still, it was like the day just passed by and nothing happened at all. Maybe I miss home. Maybe I wanted to play foolish and silly but fun games. Maybe I wanted to be with someone. Maybe I wanted to have my getawaty. Or maybe, the day just really passed by.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I've been thinking about someone lately. Just like this Sunday, that person just passed by. Maybe everyone just passes by our lives. It's just a matter of inviting them to spend a little more time with you and if they're gone, it's just a matter of getting the right excuses they have.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I'm just passing by multiply. I have THIS week ahead :)&lt;br&gt;  &lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-4162708273714660286?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/4162708273714660286/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=4162708273714660286' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/4162708273714660286'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/4162708273714660286'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2008/09/passing-by.html' title='Passing by.'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-4829922479399810194</id><published>2008-09-19T20:08:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-09-20T00:08:34.587+08:00</updated><title type='text'>one night stay.</title><content type='html'>It's Friday. I'm home, like always. But tonight's different. I won't be staying home this weekend. I'll go back to Manila tomorrow. I want to stay. Really. there are things I miss, that I want to see, feel and be with.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;So hindi kami magkikita ni Chito. Errrgh. It's something I hate. We've been so busy lately na nakakainis na talaga. Eeeeeh. Pero baka magkita kami before I leave. Hopefully. I miss that man. Really. Pssh.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Tapos hindi ako makakapanood ng MMK! si Joihn Lloyd un eh! John Lloyd! Grabe. I was so excited pa man din for saturday kasi MMK. Gosh. Di naman pala ako makakapanood.Hay.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;And yeah. Eto ako ngayon. Ang late na hindi pa ako tulog.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;one night stay.&lt;br&gt;gosh.&lt;br&gt;nasa manila na ako bukas.&lt;br&gt;first time kong matulog sa dorm na sabado. whooh!&lt;br&gt;good luck!&lt;br&gt;&lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-4829922479399810194?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/4829922479399810194/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=4829922479399810194' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/4829922479399810194'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/4829922479399810194'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2008/09/one-night-stay.html' title='one night stay.'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-3900789575678630052</id><published>2008-09-12T23:03:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-09-13T03:03:10.335+08:00</updated><title type='text'>She is my love :)</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Almost three years.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;It's not that long, if you'll look at it. But if there's one person who knows me inside and out, it is her. She's a fantastic lady, trust me! She's frank, mean, and never gentle on words. But hey, it's your fault if she acts that way to you. She's got the same mood swings as me, the same size of clothes, of slippers, of shoes, of underwear and well, of almost everything. You see, we even have the same surname (Yumul).&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;We have this theory that once upon a time, God made us twins. But he made a better plan by giving us to our respective families. We have our reasons why we are where we are right now. It's funny, if you'll hear our stories, but if you'll think about it, you'll see, we might be right.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;She's the older sister I never had. She's the adviser I'd always want on my side. She's the person I would not exchange for anyone else in the world. She's the only person I can tell everything with out hesitation. She always listens. She finds time for me. She fights for me. She laughs with me. She cries with me. She makes me happy when I'm sad. She's my best friend. She loves me!&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Despite these things, Aina is never biased. She tells me when I'm wrong. She tells me when I need to stop. She slaps me if it is necessary, just to wake me up from a nightmare. Also, she's been so supportive of me. She appreciates my achievements and my works. She's a fan, although she doesn't really admit(*hahaha*). She's my encourager and my optimist conscience. She tells me to fight, especially when she knows I have a very good chance of winning. She fights with me, when I need someone to fight with me. She stands up for me, when everyone disses me. But you know what? She's the only person who can really really criticize me with no hard feelings. And she's the only person who can laugh at me, and I'll surely understand. She's the only person whom I don't have a second thought on listening to. Whenever she gives her side of things, I instantly consider it. It's because she's honest, even if she knows she'll hurt me. She knows, I would listen to her, and I listen because I know she only wants what's best for me.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I don't often tell her how much I'm thankful for having her as my best friend. She's been with me in my lowest and my highest, as well. She's seen the worst and best of Mela, and, still, she never left me. Even if we're on our separate ways now (she's in Pampanga and I'm in Manila), we still find time for each other. I'm really glad that lately, we've been seeing each other more often because my boyfriend is her boyfriend's best friend. Oh yeah, she and Benjo(Aina's boyfriend) are our cupids! Benjo is a nice person too. I've never seen my best friend this very much in love, I swear. I thank Benjo for a lot of things. He's a good friend of mine, now. And I'm happy about it. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Aina showed me how it is to be a true friend. She showed me how nice it is to have someone to call whenever the whole world just gives up on you. She showed me that in this world, there will always be someone whom you can count on through the good times and the bad.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-style: italic;"&gt;She's my sister, she's my best friend, she's my love :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;Thank you, my dear Aina.&lt;br&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I love you, always and forever.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img style="width: 238px;height: 200px;" src="http://photos-090.friendster.com/e1/photos/09/04/22114090/1_384056521l.jpg"&gt;   &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;object width="300" height="110"&gt;&lt;param name="allowScriptAccess" value="never"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://media.imeem.com/m/H7bRhwp30P"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed allowscriptaccess="never" src="http://media.imeem.com/m/H7bRhwp30P" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="300" height="110"&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-3900789575678630052?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/3900789575678630052/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=3900789575678630052' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/3900789575678630052'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/3900789575678630052'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2008/09/she-is-my-love.html' title='She is my love :)'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-6761756579884039087</id><published>2008-09-12T21:43:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-09-13T01:43:12.263+08:00</updated><title type='text'>He is but the best person I have.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;TWO MONTHS.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;It's a short period, I know. But I can say that I am very blessed to have this person in my life. I never thought I'd meet, and the best part is, I'd have him. He's just so wonderful in his own ways. He can be the sweetest and the cruelest boyfriend, whichever he prefers at a given time (*smiles*). He can turn my very bad day into a heaven-like scene in just a snap. He can make me cry at times, but he can make me laugh most of the time. He knows the perfect words to say when I'm sad, disappointed and broken. And he also knows the perfect words to say when I'm happy, contented and very much satisfied. He knows what I want and he does them. He knows what I hate, but now matter how hardheaded he is at times, he never does anything to disappoint me or to make me sad. He's an amazing person. He is who he is from the time I knew him. He's been true to me and has always been honest in every way. He knows how weak I am at certain times and he never failed to be a strong wall that I could lean on. I am hardheaded at times and he is just so patient with me. I have my daily dose of mood swings and he understands. I am not perfect, yet he makes me feel that this imperfection is senseless to him. To him, I am a great lady.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I have no idea on how to repay this wonderful person. I love him, indeed, more than I've ever loved before. He deserves it, each and every bit of the love I am giving. Sometimes, I even think that what I give him is not enough. But I'm glad that he constantly reminds me that he appreciates everything I do. He also lets me know that he feels blessed for having me. He thanks me as well, for not just saying how much I love him, but for showing him as well. I am happy with this person, more than I've ever been happy with anyone. He's one of the few right choices I've made in this lifetime. I don't want him to slip away. That's why despite the struggle we have right now because of our distance (he's in Pampanga and I stay in Manila 5 days a week!), I'm holding on tight. I'm glad because he's holding on tight as well. I've been in a situation where I thought I'd lose him because of this struggle. But fortunately, he held on tighter and stayed stronger for me...for us.&lt;br&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;I love this feeling, the feeling of being in love. Thanks to Chito, I am feeling this bliss. He is but the best person I have.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-style: italic;"&gt;I am very much in love with him. And I want everyone to know that he continuously makes me fall even more everyday :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;img style="width: 221px;height: 166px;" src="http://photos-090.friendster.com/e1/photos/09/04/22114090/1_480272431l.jpg"&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;br&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;object width="300" height="110"&gt;&lt;param name="allowScriptAccess" value="never"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://media.imeem.com/m/leoIV1_IXR"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed allowscriptaccess="never" src="http://media.imeem.com/m/leoIV1_IXR" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="300" height="110"&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-6761756579884039087?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/6761756579884039087/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=6761756579884039087' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/6761756579884039087'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/6761756579884039087'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2008/09/he-is-but-best-person-i-have.html' title='He is but the best person I have.'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-8753332547791912009</id><published>2008-09-08T05:30:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-09-08T09:30:44.370+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Careful, sweethearts.</title><content type='html'>We were at Robinson's Pampanga yesterday watching my brother's karate tournament. And then my sister, Carline 13 years old, decided to window shop. Hinayaan namin siya because we're used to doing it, kami lang mag-isa ang nagwiwindow shop. And then after some minutes, bigla na lang sabi samin ng tita ko na &lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;font-style: italic;font-weight: bold;"&gt;my sister was followed by this old, scary-looking man who was about 45 years old. Niyaya daw siyang manood ng sine and asked her where she lived.&lt;/span&gt; Good thing, my auntie and uncle saw her. They even talked to the man who, then, kept on saying sorry and said he had my sister mistaken for somebody else which was sooooo lame for an excuse. They reported it to the security guards but unfortunately, nawala na ung guy nung hinahanap na siya. For the rest of the night, hinahanap siya pero he was nowhere to be found. Thank God, my sister is safe.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;So ayun, just be cafeful, ladies. Let's all be careful. Yun daw ang MO ng mga rapists ngayon. They'll ask you to watch a movie with them blah blah and then, they'll do their deed.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Hay. Too much crimes in the world. Let's just all be careful.&lt;br&gt;   &lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-8753332547791912009?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/8753332547791912009/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=8753332547791912009' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/8753332547791912009'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/8753332547791912009'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2008/09/careful-sweethearts.html' title='Careful, sweethearts.'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-4583825031894887344</id><published>2008-09-03T15:04:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-09-03T19:04:33.533+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I chased my dreams long time ago.</title><content type='html'>I used to be the girl who fights for everything she wants, everything she believes, everything she knows is right.I used to be strong, I used to be a fighter.. I used to be until I chased my dreams.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I fought for what I want, so here I am, studying in Manila, because I dreamt of becoming successful, and of being a renowned writer. I pursued my course in UST. I studied to continue my passion. But then, I lost something. I lost someone. I lost myself.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I'm not that girl who fights for everything she wants, everything she believes, everything she knows is right anymore. I am not strong anymore, I am not a fighter anymore.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;A person said I should change. Maybe he's wrong. Maybe I should go back to how I used to be. I changed a lot in the past few weeks. And it's not because I simply changed. It's because there are factors that led me to my attitude. I'm not a bitch, I'm not mean, I'm not bad. Some people would not understand my actions simply because they think I'm a bitch, I'm mean, and I'm bad.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I never thought it would be this hard. I never thought it would be this terrible. I have no direction anymore. I'm not happy with where I am anymore. I'm not happy with what I'm doing anymore because I'm not comfortable anymore. I'm even doubting my capabilities. I think every action I do is wrong. Even with my thoughts, I doubt them. I don't rely on myself anymore. I lost my confidence in what I do. I lost confidence in me.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I lost her and I want her back. That girl who fights for everything she wants, everything she believes, everything she knows is right.I want her to be strong again, to be a fighter again. It's time that she goes back home, to where she really belongs.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Maybe chasing my dreams was a bad idea after all. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-style: italic;"&gt;Maybe, just maybe, it's time that I build dreams and not chase them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-4583825031894887344?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/4583825031894887344/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=4583825031894887344' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/4583825031894887344'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/4583825031894887344'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2008/09/i-chased-my-dreams-long-time-ago.html' title='I chased my dreams long time ago.'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-3728124975408744902</id><published>2008-08-28T19:02:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-08-28T23:02:47.022+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Because they know the perfect words</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-style: italic;font-family: Verdana;"&gt;"You know my number. You can always call me if you need someone to talk to." - Dad&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;I went home a while ago because I was too overwhelmed by the load I felt this week. It's the hardest week for me. I swear. It's the worst thing that has ever happened in my life. But what else can I do but to accept everyday as if it's another battle to fight? I went home for two reasons. One was to attend my 4th year adviser's surprise birthday party and two, because I wanted to talk to my mom about my situation.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;So yeah, I was able to do both. Glad about that. I went to my former school and met some of my former classmates and some of my former teachers. I wanted to see them. I wanted to feel that there is still a world where I exist as a person with dignity. I wanted to feel the feeling of being accepted. I wanted to see &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-style: italic;text-decoration: underline;"&gt;my friends&lt;/span&gt;. And my feeling is so light right now that I don't have any reasons to go back to Manila anymore. I miss hanging out with IV-ACTS. I miss seeing them laugh. I miss taking pictures with them. But most of all, I miss how they make me feel so loved. I hope to see them again soon:)&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I talked with my mom. I shared my burdens. She listened. This is the very first time that my mom and I actually talked. I mean, like this talk. It made me feel better. Really better. She said words of encouragement. She said the words I wanted to hear. She knew the perfect words to tell me. She knew how I really feel. I love her. I love my Mom so much.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;And then my dad, who is in Cebu right now, and I talked on the phone. He's just so great with words. He knew how to make me understand. And he knew my worries that's why he was able to say the perfect words to me. My dad is amazing. He showed the different angles of the situation. "Challenges," he said "they're part of life." I love every word he told me. I love him. I love my Dad so much.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I'm so grateful for having my parents! They're the best blessings I have in my life.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Oh, and I even had a bonus. I met Chito awhile ago. I wanted to see my best friend Aina, but too bad I wasn't able to. She doesn't have a phone so demmet I couldn't reach her. Anyway, Chito made me feel better. His presence is more than enough. He made me laugh, the laughter I miss for the week. He made me smile, he gave me butterflies in my tummy, he hugged me so tight, he held my hand and he made me feel how much I'm safe with him. He knwo the perfect words and perfect moves as well. I'm so thankful I have this person in my life. He helps me survive my everyday!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-style: italic;font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana;"&gt;I don't need a lot, I just need a few. God has better plans for me. And so I do this 'His way'.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I'm scared about tomorrow, and the next coming days. I'm hurt. Badly hurt. I don't know if...if people still care, but I just hope this stops soon. I can't take it any longer.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;But tonight I'm feeling better. I can sleep well. I can sleep with dry pillows. I can sleep with a smile. Oh, yeah actually, I can sleep, period. Thanks to the wonderful people I have!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-style: italic;font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;object width="300" height="110"&gt;&lt;param name="allowScriptAccess" value="never"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://media.imeem.com/m/ndXwoRSxjJ"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed allowscriptaccess="never" src="http://media.imeem.com/m/ndXwoRSxjJ" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="300" height="110"&gt;&lt;/object&gt;   &lt;/center&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-3728124975408744902?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/3728124975408744902/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=3728124975408744902' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/3728124975408744902'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/3728124975408744902'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2008/08/because-they-know-perfect-words.html' title='Because they know the perfect words'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-3847086103430822478</id><published>2008-08-25T19:04:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-08-25T23:04:39.771+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Finding my Neverland</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I wish I can be Wendy, who's got a home in the real world, at the same time, a home so real at Neverland. She can stay wherever she wants. She can escape the painful moments of reality and enjoy the fantastic offers of Neverland.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;My 2008 is not a so-good year. You see, I've lost a lot. I gained, yes, I know that. But still, I can't reject the fact that I lost. Add the fact that I lost too important people in my life. And it's not because of the lame reason, "it's destiny. maybe God has better plans" blah blah blah. It's because of Me. Me alone. I lost them, when I was battling to keep them. I lost them, when I thought I had to do something to make them stay. It's so ironic. I fought so I could keep them. But now, I lost them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I don't know if I'll get another chance to fight, if there will be another bout to battle on. I'm hurting, so much that I can't take it anymore. I'm trying to act strong, like how I always do. But yeah, like how I always do, I get weak again. I am so weak right now. I want to stand up, to have the courage to fight, to have the power to move. I can't. I don't know how. I don't even have a single clue on how to face the people I want to fight for.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;This is where I need my Neverland. One sprinkle of fairy dust and off I get what I want. It's not easy here. It's not easy in this world. I just want to lay down, and forget breathing. I'm so done with sobbing and crying and shouting. I just want to be quiet. But I want the quietness to shout to the hearts of the people I want back. I wish I can do that.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Maybe if I had my Neverland, I can sprinkle fairy dust to them and let them forget how bad I am. Maybe I acted a little like Peter Pan, but the opposite way. He stole Wendy and her brothers, I lost very important people. But the end point is, we both did something stupid. Maybe I am like Wendy too. That regardless the offers of a beautiful Neverland, I still prefer to live in the world where I started existing. But then again, even for just once a year, she needs her taste of Neverland. Maybe I'm a like Wendy for having Peter Pan. Because even in my world, I have a Peter Pan to fight for me, to protect me, to stand up for me. Or maybe I am Tinkerbell.  Tinkerbell is a free spirit, she                      is what she is, says what she says and doesn’t give                      a care what others may think, and seems happy to tell people                      they are a silly ass. She endears herself to everyone                      in spite of her jealous ways and spiteful character. She would                      lay down her life for Peter Pan. And despite the fact that Tinkerbell is a fairy, and that she should be good, more often than not, she is regarded as a bad fairy. Nevertheless, she has her reasons for being bad. Maybe I'm like her. Maybe I like her. Maybe I want to be like her.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Finding my Neverland. It's not easy. But it's such a good idea that somehow I want to act to it. Where's my Neverland? Oh Peter Pan please take me there. I don't want the promise of eternal youth. All I want is the offer of eternal youth. The excitement a candy can bring in my eyes, the shallowness of thoughts I can have, the simplicity of understanding I do, and maybe even the excuse for doing stupid things because I'm still young.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;If I don't get my luck on finding my Neverland, I just hope the people I lost would forgive me, just like how Peter Pan forgave Tinkerbell for hurting Wendy.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;object height="110" width="300"&gt;&lt;param name="allowScriptAccess" value="never"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://media.imeem.com/m/yebBzPyNSm"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed allowscriptaccess="never" src="http://media.imeem.com/m/yebBzPyNSm" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="110" width="300"&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-3847086103430822478?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/3847086103430822478/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=3847086103430822478' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/3847086103430822478'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/3847086103430822478'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2008/08/finding-my-neverland.html' title='Finding my Neverland'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-7127707121310089504</id><published>2008-08-24T16:44:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-08-24T20:44:19.553+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm bad. I'm mean. I make mistakes. I'm sorry.</title><content type='html'>I'm sorry. I've been wrong. I've done things I shouldn't have. I've said words I shouldn't have said. Shit. I want this to end. Gusto ko nang maayos tayo. Pero it seems that with every breath I take, I commit errors. I'm sorry. I can't do anything else but to say sorry. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Will you ever forgive me? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-7127707121310089504?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/7127707121310089504/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=7127707121310089504' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/7127707121310089504'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/7127707121310089504'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2008/08/i-bad-i-mean-i-make-mistakes-i-sorry.html' title='I&amp;#39;m bad. I&amp;#39;m mean. I make mistakes. I&amp;#39;m sorry.'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-5311355263726479784</id><published>2008-08-24T16:19:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-08-24T20:19:41.765+08:00</updated><title type='text'>MAC OS ;)</title><content type='html'>okay. this is so cool. naka mac os ako:)) whoohoo. hindi ako naka-apple na laptop. hell i wish! pero thanks to my dad and his brilliant mind, nagawa niyang MAC ang OS ko:)&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;pero may disadvantage. grabe. hindi ko alam ang mga shortcuts :)) hahaha. this'll take time. darn. but yeah, i'm loving it!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;aun. wala lang :))&lt;/div&gt;&lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-5311355263726479784?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/5311355263726479784/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=5311355263726479784' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/5311355263726479784'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/5311355263726479784'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2008/08/mac-os.html' title='MAC OS ;)'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-963442362534264671</id><published>2008-08-23T06:17:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-08-23T10:17:55.546+08:00</updated><title type='text'>nalulungkot ako. </title><content type='html'>it's not a good morning. nor was it wa good night.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;walang internet kagabi.hindi ako nakapag-internet the past days for some effin reasons.&lt;br&gt;so what di ba? but no. hindi ko nasagutan ang BA. pfft. nalulungkot ako. kasi sabi ko hindi na ako tatamarin. babawi na ako ngayong second half. pftt. wala. hindi ko naayos ang buhay ko. naiinis na ako. and nalulungkot talaga ako. well, hindi lang naman dahil dito. pero for now, ito ung nakakapagpalungkot sakin.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;:|&lt;br&gt;  &lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-963442362534264671?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/963442362534264671/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=963442362534264671' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/963442362534264671'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/963442362534264671'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2008/08/nalulungkot-ako.html' title='nalulungkot ako. '/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-4503634985022846027</id><published>2008-08-18T18:16:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-08-18T22:16:24.570+08:00</updated><title type='text'>sweet escape - of random things</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;It's quite hard to live in a my worlds (yes that's plural because I have but 2 different worlds to live in). I need adjustments for myself. I need to know the right place for this, the right place for that, the perfect math for this, the good space for that, and so on. It's confusing, sometimes and a bit frustrating. There are times that I would rather live in the place where convenience is offered, yet there will be times that I would rather live in the place I can call my comfort zone. Ironic. These are my worlds, yet I find it hard to live in them with ease.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-style: italic;font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Real sweet escape. My sweet escape in two arms.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Ah! That sweet escape I love. Where though? Maybe it's in who, not in where. For 44 days now, I have my comfort zone, my sweet escape, my unwinding spot, my joyous space, my own understanding of bliss. It's in his arms. Locked in his tight hugs is where I find it so serene to stay. All worries are gone, all troubles go invisible, all problems leave the moment. It's nice. It's great. It feels...wonderful. Thanks to him, Chito, my best friend and boyfriend and well, everything I want him to be ;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br style="font-style: italic;font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-style: italic;font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;"And so the lion fell in love with the lamb."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Words of Edward Cullen. My other sweet escape. My more of a habit rather than hobby for the past 5 days now. I'm with the third book and I can't just take my eyes away from reading this wonderful books. Edward is love. Edward. Edward. Dear Edward.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-style: italic;font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Crepes delight.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Who wouldn't whim for a taste of it? C'mon. It's deliciously tasty. That dinner with ER and Margo? Oh it's one of the best. Not only have I enjoyed my two great buddies' company but the appealing taste of the baby back ribs and the peach crepe ala mode of WOK. I think I'm going to convince those two to come back there, this week. It's heaven. My haven for good food. Really.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-style: italic;font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;My Sassy Girl Frustration&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;You see, I've been waiting for this movie to come out. Even though I have this hunch that it is no better than the Korean version, I still waited for it. The showing, which SM San Lazaro posted was AUGUST 13 was moved one week ahead. So, I had the slightest idea that it won't be shown on Aug 13. I complained, of course, when I was so prepared to give up studying for English and Computer just to watch it and later finds out it's not in SM San Lazaro theaters anymore. Imagine my angst. It ugh, I guess overly bursted. I was so mad at the clerk. And I didn't bother apologizing though. I was so mean. So yeah, sorry about that miss. Still, I missed My Sassy Girl. Elisha is just so pretty, isn't she? Psh.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-weight: bold;font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Blog defect.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;The point, after all, of this blog is to blog. I haven't had an entry for what? 10 days? Oh screw it. I don't have anything to blab about. But then, there's a part of me that wants to blog, to spill some things out. Oh well. This one went well. Good try for a blog reconstruction.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Yeah. These are my &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;escapes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;; when I would think of the split in between my worlds rather than the big halves. Ecstatic. Cool. Better.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I'm still home. I have 7-11 am classes to attend tomorrow and I'm still here. Great. Nothing to fret. WTH. I'm going to Manila at 4:30 in the mornign. And I hate it. Although I love my 9-hour extension here at home. It's good. It's gratifying. LOL. I'm going to continue with the Edward-Bella love story now. Great. I'm falling even more in love as i read each and every word in it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;good night ;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-4503634985022846027?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/4503634985022846027/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=4503634985022846027' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/4503634985022846027'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/4503634985022846027'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2008/08/sweet-escape-of-random-things.html' title='sweet escape - of random things'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-1798674332313974539</id><published>2008-08-08T18:40:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-08-08T22:40:54.230+08:00</updated><title type='text'>080808 is THIS wonderful! (blog)</title><content type='html'>August 08, 2008&lt;br&gt;Went out with Hun ;)&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Nagpaalam ako kay Mama the night before to go out to lunch with Chito. And then she asked me kung nanliligaw siya. I can't say that he's already my boyfriend so plano talaga namin ni Chito eh sabihin na nanliligaw pa lang siya. So I told my mom na oo, nanliligaw siya. Ayun, pinayagan naman niya akong umalis with one condition, kasama si Carline - my sister. Oks lang :)&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;We met up at 711 HAU at 11 am. Hindi ako late:)) Maaga pa nga ako eh at tinatawan niya ako na excited daw ko. Hahaha. Siya din naman excited siya. Hahaha.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;The moment he came, kinikilig na agad ako. Bakit? Ang bango niya. He knows I get weak sa scent. And hindi naman siya mahilig magpabango so you can just imagine kung gaano ako kakilig nung naamoy ko siya. Hahaha:)) We ate at A La Creme. Kahit na inaasar niya ako at sinasabihan na tumaba ako, okay lang. Super namiss ko siya and I'm just so happy kasama ko siya.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;While eating he said he'll give me something. I wasn't expecting anything. Kasi simple moment na magkasama kami, it means so much to me na. So ayun nga, he said I should close my eyes first before he gives it to me. I closed my eyes and then ayun, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;HE GAVE ME A JACKET&lt;/span&gt;!:)) Lagi daw akong nilalamig eh. So he decided to give me a jacket. Eto ang catch, ang bango ng jacket - amoy pa niya:) Super kinilig ako. Hindi pa tapos, meron pang simple message. He really knows how to make me smile and to make me happy. The note said :&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"You know what? You've told me your greatest fear, and you ever asked what mine is, so I'll tell mine. It is losing my Mom, Dad and losing my most treasured blessing from God; that is YOU! ♥ "&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/span&gt;He attended his class from 1 'til 2:30. We (my sister and I) waited for him at SM Clark. After his class, I said I want us to have studio pictures:)) LOL. Ang vain, I know. But then, okay lang. It was fun. Si ate natuwa samin. And then natuwa kami sa isa't isa. We're like THE BEST OF FRIENDS. I enjoy every moment with him. I love being with him.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;We decided to go home by 4. Hinatid niya kami sa bahay. And he met my family. I mean the ENTIRE FAMILY. My 3 Uncles, their wives, my cousins, my Grandparents and my Parents. I'm so happy kilala na sya dito samin. But then, bago un, anu-ano pinagawa sakanya ng uncle ko. We were at my grandparent's house. Walking distance lang naman sa bahay namin. Noung papunta kami, nakasalubong namin ang Uncle ko, bunso nina Mama. Eh yun yung mahilig talagang magpahirap sa mga nanliligaw sakin. Haha. Shoooot. So pinakilala ko si Chito. Tapos eto usapan nila:&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Uncle: Nanliligaw ka ba sakanya?&lt;br&gt;Chito: Opo.&lt;br&gt;Uncle: Lalaki ka ba?&lt;br&gt;Chito: Opo *smiles*&lt;br&gt;Ako: ay tara, tara na.&lt;br&gt;Uncle: Sige, punta na kayo dun. Mamaya na kita (Chito) kakausapin. Mamaya mo patunayan ang pagkalalaki mo.&lt;br&gt;Chito at Ako: * smiles *&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Dumating kami sa bahay nina Lola ang my whole family was gambling. Lol. Mahjong and tong its. Kmusta naman yun di ba? Lol. Then my uncle (yung nakasalubong namin) called Chito. Ayun, pinahugas ung kaldero na pinaglutuan niya ng  Spag Sauce. Kumokontra na ako. Kasi papahirapan talaga siya pag hinayaan ko lang. Lol. So ayun, hinugas namin, then sinunod ung follow-up commands ng uncle ko. Masaya, masaya talaga:) Then after some time, tinawag na naman siya, anu-ano pinagawa. Tapos ayun, ung last eh pinabilhan siya ng softdrinks. Haha. 2 cases ng softdrinks. I must admit, ang hot niya kapag napapagod:)) haha. Sorry na. Kinikilig ako eh. Swear. Lol. Anlandi lang. Pero ayun, super happy talaga. Kasi I feel how much he's willing to do anything for me. I love him so much! ;)&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Then pinakilala ko din siya sa Dad ko nakakadating lang from Cebu. Oks naman. Ang saya :) Konting interview nia Mama tapos ayun, umuwi na siya ng around 7:30. Super happy. As in ;)&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;object height="110" width="300"&gt;&lt;param name="allowScriptAccess" value="never"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://media.imeem.com/m/vzzCkCL5Th"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed allowscriptaccess="never" src="http://media.imeem.com/m/vzzCkCL5Th" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="110" width="300"&gt;&lt;/object&gt;  &lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-1798674332313974539?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/1798674332313974539/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=1798674332313974539' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/1798674332313974539'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/1798674332313974539'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2008/08/080808-is-this-wonderful-blog.html' title='080808 is THIS wonderful! (blog)'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-4336485673999566337</id><published>2008-08-07T20:27:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-08-08T00:27:28.380+08:00</updated><title type='text'>There's always a rainbow after the rain.</title><content type='html'>After my super duper uber hell week ast week, I re-lived myself this week. I tried to stay as happy as I could. Maybe it's selfishness but somehow, I began reaching within me and not, around me. It's nice, being selfish at times. You sort of realize that once in a while, you have to be sweet to yourself.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;What did  I do? Oh nothing. Not a single thing. I just followed the flow of my routinary schedule. I went to school, laughed a bit, talked enough, smiled all the way, listened, reported, discussed, etc. It's nothing. But now that I look at it, it seems that I somehow found a way to be sweet to myself. I didn't think about what other people would say, I lived for the moment and didn't care at the consequences, I did what I wanted even though it had a couple of troubles after, I tripped to be a happy-go-lucky. See, I even treated myself to the movies (Oh so love that A VERY SPECIAL LOVE date with my JOANNA KO!) even if I had a scheduled test for nat sci and filipino, an assignment in filipino and an 18-page-long reading in history. I didn't care. And yes, to be honest, I'm satisfied. I haven't had fun for quite a while. Maybe I was too engrossed of what was happening around me that I forgot, I needed to look after myself as well.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I went home awhile ago. It's my uncle's (Mom's brother) birthday today. He just came home from the US. I was touched when I heard my lola say that they've been waiting for me. I've been missing my family so much. And I wasn't even glad to go home last week. Mom and I had a fight again. So you can just imagine the pressure of the 2-days stay at home. But then, awhile ago made up for the past week. When my uncle saw me seated (he was tipsy or drunk i guess with my other uncles - their [mom and uncle] cousins and some lolo's who were drunk as well), he walked to me and hugged me and kissed me and ugghhh. Okay, it's sweet but he smells grosssss. Really. LOL. But it's ok. I felt how much he misses me. This uncle I'm saying is my worst enemy. We fight about practically everything. Why? He loves teasing me and I just love crying when he teases me..then he loves seeing me cry as well. LOL. Then here comes the grosssssser part. He asked me to kiss his underarm. Ewwww right? So then I made a deal, 10,000php for a kiss in his underarm. WHAT THE F. Pumayag siya. Shemay. I wanted to back out. But since, I'm known to be a fighter, go pa rin. I was already praying hard that he cancel the deal. Shoot. To cut the long story short, I kiss his underarms and I got 5,000 php. Good enough. Hindi naman yun super kiss eh. LOL. But I had fun with him (not the "kiss my underarm" part. ewwww!) I'm just glad he's home and we can bond.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;So tomorrow, I'll be going out! Yey! Finally, I can go out! Whooottt! I'll see Chito ;) Yey! Oh and we're a month old na last August 5. More to count:)&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;There you go. My title says it all ;)&lt;br&gt;  &lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-4336485673999566337?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/4336485673999566337/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=4336485673999566337' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/4336485673999566337'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/4336485673999566337'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2008/08/there-always-rainbow-after-rain.html' title='There&amp;#39;s always a rainbow after the rain.'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-5478930676109958409</id><published>2008-08-02T11:25:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-08-02T15:25:28.180+08:00</updated><title type='text'>there are things that seem so vague to me</title><content type='html'>like the fact that i'm 18 and yet i can't get a hold of MY life.&lt;br&gt;i want to do things yet i'm being stopped by a higher and stronger force.&lt;br&gt;and yes, sometimes, i just want to shout and ask, beg or whatever to please, somehow, give me space to grow up on my own.&lt;br&gt;because i've been brought well to stand up on my own in some things.&lt;br&gt;i'm not asking to be freed entirely. just please. maybe a little space.&lt;br&gt;behind everything i do, i still ask for their permission.&lt;br&gt;what else do they want?&lt;br&gt;:|&lt;br&gt;  &lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-5478930676109958409?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/5478930676109958409/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=5478930676109958409' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/5478930676109958409'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/5478930676109958409'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2008/08/there-are-things-that-seem-so-vague-to.html' title='there are things that seem so vague to me'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-7994173159299008712</id><published>2008-08-01T17:37:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-08-01T21:37:23.852+08:00</updated><title type='text'>sick or tired. either way. blah.</title><content type='html'>This week was hell week. No, it wasn't hell because of academic/extra curricular business. It's because I was sad. Like really sad. I didn't have energy. I felt weak. I wanted to go home. I was homesick. I missed a lot of people. And yeah, I miss having fun.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;When was the last time that I laughed so hard? When was the last time that I had super fun? When was the last time I said, "I'm so happy!". Great. It's been ages. No, I'm just exaggerating things. It's often said that laughter is the best medicine. So be it then. 'Coz I'm admitting how sick I am. What it is? I just don't know.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I guess I'm just tired. But tired of what?School's not killing me - yet. I have nothing to do after class. So what am I tired of? Of being routinary? Of being scared of going out? Of being loud? Of being frightened of people? Oh God help me. This is so not me. I don't know. My body feels weary. I can't seem to get the right mood. I don't know what's happening. I hate it when I feel this. I just want to shout and poof disappear. I want to go to a place where I can just do whatever. But no, I don't want to be alone. I've had enough of the "ME TIME". I'm tired of it. There. It's another thing I'm tired of - having me time. Gosh. I hate this. Someone please save me!&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;4ut8eu9er0 e9r ciopwef ciejg lkdfj kldsal jf9 ri904tc9043 tu9ejfsdjflkjeroiut 09wetghdjfa;lei cq0wukljv dflkjet ie9tjgogj jrioutgqgopdjlksdfj eporjgkj&lt;br&gt;  &lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-7994173159299008712?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/7994173159299008712/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=7994173159299008712' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/7994173159299008712'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/7994173159299008712'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2008/08/sick-or-tired-either-way-blah.html' title='sick or tired. either way. blah.'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-6089411516439073957</id><published>2008-07-31T13:46:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-07-31T17:46:25.410+08:00</updated><title type='text'>i miss you.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;font-family: Verdana;font-weight: bold;color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;font size="2"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;I miss the way you make me feel comfortable.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;I miss the way you make me feel like I can be the happiest person in the world.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;I miss how you can turn my downside world, uptown again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;I miss the times you spend with me, just because we know that it will make us happy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;I miss the nights you spend with me, walking though going nowehere.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;I miss hanging out, just because you want to spend the time together.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;I miss the messages that make me laugh all day and all night.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;I miss taking pictures with you, posing just the same, posting alike pictures but it's ok because it's US no matter what.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;I miss holding on to the relationship we have.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;I miss the dates before class and after class. We even had in between classes, didn't we?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;I miss talking and blabbing about anything and everything with out any hesitation.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;I miss how you can make me feel so lucky to have you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;I miss the time we wait for each other after class.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;I miss you when I'm very very sad because you were the one who stood by me when the whole world let me down.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;I miss you when I'm happy because you were the who made me believe that I can be happy everyday, with out any fear of being too happy to be too sad.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;I miss our Starbucks days. Those times when we'll just sit and talk.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;I miss our mall days. Those times when we'll just walk around and have laughters with us.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;I miss sitting beside you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;I miss you, my &lt;/span&gt;&lt;font style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);font-weight: bold;" size="3"&gt;dearests&lt;/font&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;I miss being with you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;And I miss everything about you...and about us.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);" size="3"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The worst way to miss you is to be right next to you, but can't afford to make a move to let you know how much.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/font&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-6089411516439073957?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/6089411516439073957/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=6089411516439073957' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/6089411516439073957'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/6089411516439073957'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2008/07/i-miss-you.html' title='i miss you.'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-4745433295207220782</id><published>2008-07-27T03:47:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-07-27T07:47:09.258+08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's another rainy day</title><content type='html'>I can feel the coldness of the air in my skin. I'm not in any mood for a cup of coffee yet. I stare blankly at the monitor, wishin that minutes will turn into hours..for time to tick slower. I'm tired. My body aims for more rest. But it's not possible yet. There are things still undone, that have to be done. There are places to get back to. I need to re-energize my self, probably a meal of laghs and a seat on the movies. I want to just relax and not think of anything. It's soothing, relaxing and comforting. It's another rainy day, so what else is there but the push of laziness underneath your cells.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Give me your tightest hug. Show me your breathtaking smile. Being next tou you will consume my body's mist. It's another rainy day, so what else is there but the urge to be with someone you want to spend a whole day's coldness under your blankets.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Maybe I can walk alone under the dark sky. I feel the droplets on my already-wet skin. I move, step by step. I breathe, beat by beat. I have no directions.. I have nowhere to go. It's another rainy day, so what else is there but feel the created emotion of the ambiance of the breeze caused by rain.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;And so, it's another rainy day. What else is there but the mixing up of these thoughts just a moment after you woke up.&lt;br&gt;  &lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-4745433295207220782?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/4745433295207220782/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=4745433295207220782' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/4745433295207220782'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/4745433295207220782'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2008/07/it-another-rainy-day.html' title='It&amp;#39;s another rainy day'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-7469499547354186995</id><published>2008-07-24T15:13:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-07-24T19:13:03.388+08:00</updated><title type='text'>;)</title><content type='html'>When blogging is all you have, it's like this.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;No, I'm not sad, I'm not hurting, I'm not anything. It's just my body tells me to type. LOL.&lt;br&gt;Weird, I know:))&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Wala lang. Napansin ko lang wala na akong ina-update.Ewan ko.Parang nagiging stagnant na ang multiply ko at ang friendster ko. Errrrggh. Hindi naman siguro. Ewan ko ba. noon, hindi ako mabubuhay ng walang tv. Tapos nung nagdorm ako, one year akong halos hindi nanood ng TV. Oo, namimiss ko ang tv pero sanay na rin ako na walang tv. Ngayon. Grabe. Internet na nga lang ang buhay ko eh. Tapos unti-unti na akong nasasanay na wala sa kalong niya. Ito na lang ung koneksyon ko sa mga nangyayari sa paligid ko, given the fact na wala akong radyo at hindi ako nakakabili ng dyaryo araw-araw. Kaso hindi naman ako pwedeng mag-internet tulad ng pag-iinternet ko sa bahay. Una, bawas sa allowance pag nag-internet ako. Syempre, ako ang magbabayad ng internet fee. Kung bibili naman ako nung prepaid broadband (na pinag-iisipan ko talaga), eeeh, sayang lang kasi dito ko lang siya gagamitin. Tapos 3800php para lang sa unit, iba pa ung prepaid cards. Tapos kapag binili ko un, for sure, everyday ko gagamitin ang laptop. At kmusta naman dahil 800php every month ang bayad sa kuryente for laptop sa dorm. Badtrip di ba? I want to get a grasp of everything around. But oh no no no. I don't have to reach :)) haha.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Oh yun, yun lang. Naisip ko lang yun. Miss ko na talagang tumitira sa bahay namin. Lahat libre:)) haha.Dito, everything has a price you have to pay. Haha. Sheeet. Bakit ba ito ang itinatype ko ngayon? haha. Ewan ko din. Siguro kasi naiinis ako at hindi pa rin ako marunong magtipid:)) Kelan kaya ako matututo?:)) Haha. Mahirap na ang buhay ngayon. Magkano na nga ba ang gas? Tumataas na naman ang pamasahe. Tapos eto pa, ang fishball na since natuto akong kumain ng fishball eh .50 php eh 3 dalawang piso na ngayon. Oh di ba? feel na feel ang pagtaas ng cost of living. Grabe.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Oh un:)) tapos na ang pagttype ko ng wala lang. Haha:))&lt;br&gt;  &lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-7469499547354186995?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/7469499547354186995/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=7469499547354186995' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/7469499547354186995'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/7469499547354186995'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2008/07/blog-post.html' title=';)'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-3151874615485045347</id><published>2008-07-18T18:14:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-07-18T22:14:28.595+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Life is beautiful ;)</title><content type='html'>I saw him standing, maybe a few meters away from where I was. I sighed, I smiled. And then I told myself, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Indeed, life is beautiful&lt;/span&gt;."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Seeing him, in that green striped-shirt, smiling at me, waiting for me to get where he is, I just know, finally, someone cares for me, like how I wanted to be cared. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;He's my sweetest mistake&lt;/span&gt;, that thing I will never regret doing. Because I know, I just know.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;The way he holds my hand, I feel safe. The way he makes me feel how much he cares doesn't leave a space for doubt. The way he whispers in my ears the things I just love hearing, it gives me the feeling of relief. The way he makes things seem so light, though deep within they're too heavy for a load, it makes me strong enough to fight.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;He's someone I know whom I can count on whenever. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;He is my best friend, body guard, bag carrier, fetcher, clown, critique, basketball bud, singer, dancer, entertainer, adviser, boyfriend..well practically anything he can be just for me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I'm in love with him&lt;/span&gt; and I don't care about any odds in front of my face. I've seen him stand up for me. Now, I guess, it's time that I stand up for him. Yes, you read the first line right. I'm in love with this man. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-style: italic;"&gt;I can't give you explanations why or how or why things ran like this or how come I entered things in this swift turn&lt;/span&gt;. I can't give you anything. Squeeze me, twist every bone I have, grab anything you can but I really don't have an idea or explanation on these. The only thing I can tell you is that I know I am happy. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;text-decoration: underline;"&gt;I REALLY AM HAPPY&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I can't tell you that this will last. I can't give my words if this will work, given our distances. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-weight: bold;"&gt;I'M SIMPLY HOPING THAT THIS WILL WORK ;)&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;img src="http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/1-4.jpg"&gt;  &lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-3151874615485045347?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/3151874615485045347/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=3151874615485045347' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/3151874615485045347'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/3151874615485045347'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2008/07/life-is-beautiful.html' title='Life is beautiful ;)'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-7193766376516733544</id><published>2008-07-17T15:41:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-07-17T19:41:14.644+08:00</updated><title type='text'>i'm home - as in PAMPANGA home</title><content type='html'>May pasok bukas. Pero nasan ako? Nasa bahay - pampanga. Bakit?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Nakaupo ako sa FX. Papuntang CCP. Excited dahil first time kong manonood ng Cinemalay at first time kong manonood sa CCP. Super saya ko nang biglang tumawag ang Mama ko. So ayun, tinanong kung nasan ako at tinanong niya, "Bisa na kang muli ngene?" (Gusto mo nang umuwi ngayon?) Nabigla ako siyempre. Eh may kasabay akong umuuwi tuwing Friday, at sinusundo kami. Tinanong ko bakit. Sagot? Kasi daw baka mag-EARTHQUAKE. what the f. Nainis ako bigla. Pinapauwi ako dahil sa EARTHQUAKE?? Sabi ko hindi naman napepredict ang earthquake. Nag-explain ako na hindi totoo ung earthquake prediction whatsoever. Ayaw maniwala. Pero sabi nga ng marami, A MOTHER KNOWS BEST. I obeyed her, did what she wanted and here I am, in front our the family laptop typing this blog. I don't regret going home though. Aside from the fact na nakita ko sina Aina, Benjo, Lady at Chito:), hindi nagwoworry si Mama. It's the only thing I can give her, my presence. Para hindi na siya mag-worry. Alam ko mahirap mag-worry eh. Ayun nga lang, hindi ako nakapanood ng Cinemalaya sa CCP. Okay lang, may next year pa. Promise ko, next year, manonood ako as many as I can. Promise talaga:)&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Masaya ako:) Nilalagnat ng konti pero ok lang. He made me feel better. And seeing my mom relieved when I got home, it's really more than enough to make me feel better. Okay lang kahit mamiss ko ang MWF subjects ko (fortunately walang gagawin). Nasa bahay naman ako eh. I feel safe and protected:)&lt;br&gt;  &lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-7193766376516733544?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/7193766376516733544/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=7193766376516733544' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/7193766376516733544'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/7193766376516733544'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2008/07/i-home-as-in-pampanga-home.html' title='i&amp;#39;m home - as in PAMPANGA home'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-1101855167526923515</id><published>2008-07-14T06:17:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-07-14T10:17:29.363+08:00</updated><title type='text'>fun:)</title><content type='html'>wala lang:) having fun right now. it's been a while since i had this fun! thanks 2ca1:) it's really a wonderful feeling when you know that you belong!:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;alvin is making me laugh so hard. hahahahaha. thanks, thanks alvin!:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;gosh. computer100 is fun!:) hahaha.&lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-1101855167526923515?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/1101855167526923515/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=1101855167526923515' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/1101855167526923515'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/1101855167526923515'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2008/07/fun.html' title='fun:)'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-8203715796922330571</id><published>2008-07-12T06:44:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-07-12T10:44:36.940+08:00</updated><title type='text'>No one said that life is easy.</title><content type='html'>**this is something I've written on July 9, 2008. It was just a great da.y. I wote, not typed. I wrote, as a writer, with the use of my hand, my pen and my paper. A writer should always go back to how he/she was before computers were even made. Right?:)&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img style="width: 464px;height: 348px;" src="http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/Picture-0118.jpg"&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br&gt;July 09, 2008&lt;br&gt;around 5:00 pm&lt;br&gt;Sm SL, SB&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Today may be considered the best day I've ever had for the past, what, say 5 months? Excluding June 28, of course, and July 5, I've been shitty about practically everything. Life showed me how it is to be horrible. Even my 18th birthday was a taste of higher level of hell. Not that I didn't enjoy even just a bit of the tasteful happiness. It's just that happiness isn't complete with out people to share it with.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;It's as if I'm starting a new life today. Or mybe tomorrow. Facing a new day, seeing my friends, laughing and being with them again. *haaaay* It makes me sigh. A sigh of relief, of joy, of hope, of comfort...of HAPPINESS. It's as id I'm comfortably resting on a hammock by the beach, the calming waves of the sea relaxing my soul. Unwinding. That's what I feel like I'm doing right now. It soothes me within. I can hear people around me, talking with each other, the barista calling the names of customers, the singer in the background music. No one and nothing seems to register as noise - not even the loud footsteps of some people, not even the turning of pages of the book of the persons sitting on the table next to mine. I don't know what feelings are inside my heart, or some would say inside my brain, right now. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-weight: bold;"&gt;Happiness, bliss, joy, gladness or whatever you call it dominates on everything&lt;/span&gt;. It overwhelms me. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-weight: bold;"&gt;I can feel my heart beating normally again, as it failed to for the last 4 days.&lt;/span&gt; The cold air coming out of the aircon doesn't even appear to be making me cold, instead I feel like it even warms what used to be cold in me. Where I'm sitting right now even paints a smile on my lips. A lot has transpired here: laughs that I wish to hear pretty soon, stories told and built, and of course, a friendship maintained and which I'm hoping to last for eternity. I can't seem to control the anxiety I'm feeling. I'm very very excited to bond and have fun with my friends again, jus tlike how we used to. It will be soon, I know:)&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Yes, no one said that life is easy. It's just a matter of being brave enough to face everyday's obstacles. And sometimes, it's not even a matter of winning battles and passing through tests. It's a matter of learning from each day, getting a grip of people you want to be with. You struggle to live and that is to live happily, holding on to people you love the most and you fight to be with. No one sad that life is easy. Curse whoever said it is! But trust me, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;LIFE IS BEAUTIFUL&lt;/span&gt;, especially if you live with wonderful peopele...like I do:)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;object height="110" width="300"&gt;&lt;param name="allowScriptAccess" value="never"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://media.imeem.com/m/7bTxwmZZ15"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed allowscriptaccess="never" src="http://media.imeem.com/m/7bTxwmZZ15" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="110" width="300"&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/center&gt;  &lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-8203715796922330571?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/8203715796922330571/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=8203715796922330571' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/8203715796922330571'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/8203715796922330571'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2008/07/no-one-said-that-life-is-easy.html' title='No one said that life is easy.'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-846709731457378825.post-1794357374910114019</id><published>2008-07-04T21:20:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-07-05T01:20:36.912+08:00</updated><title type='text'>One side of my world is spelled as G-R-E-A-T, but not for the other.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family: trebuchet ms;color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;Despite the fact that I've been totally having this wonderful time with someone, II just can't hide all these tears that constantly wants to flow out of my eyes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-weight: bold;font-family: trebuchet ms;color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;&lt;br style="font-weight: bold;font-family: trebuchet ms;color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family: trebuchet ms;color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;Yes, I'm crying for christ's sake. And I can't just let it out here.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-weight: bold;font-family: trebuchet ms;color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family: trebuchet ms;color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;I used to be so happy about US.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-weight: bold;font-family: trebuchet ms;color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family: trebuchet ms;color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;I used to be so grateful of US.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-weight: bold;font-family: trebuchet ms;color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family: trebuchet ms;color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;I used to be so in love of US.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-weight: bold;font-family: trebuchet ms;color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family: trebuchet ms;color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;Now, I wish I still am.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-weight: bold;font-family: trebuchet ms;color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family: trebuchet ms;color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;But regardless of what I feel, I'm not the subject of things.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-weight: bold;font-family: trebuchet ms;color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family: trebuchet ms;color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;I'm part but not the center.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-weight: bold;font-family: trebuchet ms;color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family: trebuchet ms;color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;Though I don't think anyone is in center.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-weight: bold;font-family: trebuchet ms;color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;&lt;br style="font-weight: bold;font-family: trebuchet ms;color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family: trebuchet ms;color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;You guys know how much I'm hurting.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-weight: bold;font-family: trebuchet ms;color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family: trebuchet ms;color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;No, let me say that again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-weight: bold;font-family: trebuchet ms;color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family: trebuchet ms;color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;You guys know how much we are all hurting.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-weight: bold;font-family: trebuchet ms;color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family: trebuchet ms;color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;If I could just erase all your memories of the past 3-4 months, I would.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-weight: bold;font-family: trebuchet ms;color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family: trebuchet ms;color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;Then we can be happy again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-weight: bold;font-family: trebuchet ms;color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family: trebuchet ms;color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;We can start all over again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-weight: bold;font-family: trebuchet ms;color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family: trebuchet ms;color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;Nonetheless, I still hope that pretty soon, things will fall at the right place.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-weight: bold;font-family: trebuchet ms;color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family: trebuchet ms;color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;I'm nothoping for things to be back to how they were before.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-weight: bold;font-family: trebuchet ms;color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family: trebuchet ms;color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;But at least, just the decency and for old times' sake, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;font style="font-weight: bold;font-family: trebuchet ms;color: rgb(255, 102, 0);" size="3"&gt;let's fix this.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br style="font-weight: bold;font-family: trebuchet ms;color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;  &lt;!-- multiply:no_crosspost --&gt;&lt;p class='multiply:no_crosspost'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/846709731457378825-1794357374910114019?l=melasthoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/1794357374910114019/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=846709731457378825&amp;postID=1794357374910114019' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/1794357374910114019'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/846709731457378825/posts/default/1794357374910114019'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melasthoughts.blogspot.com/2008/07/one-side-of-my-world-is-spelled-as-g-r.html' title='One side of my world is spelled as G-R-E-A-T, but not for the other.'/><author><name>Carmela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10583276057418896326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j248/blissfuL_bum/luv2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
