<?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-7742590951716429656</id><updated>2011-07-30T21:46:12.812-07:00</updated><category term='Hayden Kho'/><category term='Katrina Halili'/><category term='sex video'/><category term='sex scandal'/><title type='text'>hear the incoherent truth</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>You can call me Cheska--</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02899180873032532818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/SKg5eVIFC0I/AAAAAAAAACc/0kdj-_oOOjw/S220/1_918523893l.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>70</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7742590951716429656.post-5520036143251416662</id><published>2010-09-25T02:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-25T03:14:27.290-07:00</updated><title type='text'>77 oras (part 6)</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;wala nang kasunod ang part 5a, kaya part 6 na. hindi ako makagawa ng note sa fb for some reason, kaya dito na lang.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"master, gusto ka namin makita. andito kaming apat sa tacloban, kita naman tayo." comment ni andrea sa wall post ng writer sa facebook.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"lilibre ka namin ng beer." sabi ni francis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"at ng bora." dagdag ni reine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"at oorder tayo ng cordon bleu!" hirit ni emman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;binabasa lang ng writer ang mga posts nila habang kumakain ng hapunan. iniisip niya kung makikipagkita ba siya sa mga ito, gayung alam niya na wala siya sa kanyang sarili nitong mga nakaraang araw. gusto niya makipagkita sa kanila, pero gusto rin niya panatilihin ang misteryo na bumabalot sa kanya at manaig ang kanyang pagiging isang dakilang emotera sa facebook.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;masakit ang kanyang ulo. kaninang tanghali pa iyon mula nang kumain siya sa mcdo. hindi niya malaman kung bakit, pero bigla na lang na parang binabayo ang kanyang ulo, sabay na nanakit na rin ang kanyang mga kasu-kasuhan. sinubukan niyang matulog pero hindi siya mapakali, kung kaya't minarapat na lamang niya na maligo upang kahit papano'y mapreskuhan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;matapos niya maligo, biglang naisip ng writer si louie. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;kailangan ko siya makausap,&lt;/span&gt; sabi niya sa sarili.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sama-samang naghapunan ang apat na dayo ng tacloban. ngayong gabi, sa calle z naman nila naisipan kumain, dahil sa chismis na masarap ang bulalo doon. katabi ni francis si andrea, at di niya mapigilan na mapasulyap sa kanya. sa hindi malamang dahilan, binubulabog ni andrea ang kanyang isipan, pati ang pintig ng kanyang puso.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"uy may cordon bleu dito o!" bulalas ni emman sa menu. "malamang ito palagi inoorder ni master. hahaha."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"sabi niya mas masarap daw ang bulalo dito," sambit ni reine. "haynako sana andito siya para mas masaya. hindi pa ba pagrereply yun sa facebook?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"hindi pa." iling ni andrea. "uy francis magsalita ka nga dyan, kanina ka pa tulala e."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"ha?" napatanga lang ito sa kanya.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(sana mamaya makapagpost nako sa facebook notes. grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7742590951716429656-5520036143251416662?l=yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/feeds/5520036143251416662/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7742590951716429656&amp;postID=5520036143251416662' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/5520036143251416662'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/5520036143251416662'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/2010/09/77-oras-part-6.html' title='77 oras (part 6)'/><author><name>You can call me Cheska--</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02899180873032532818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/SKg5eVIFC0I/AAAAAAAAACc/0kdj-_oOOjw/S220/1_918523893l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7742590951716429656.post-5931081106887360128</id><published>2009-07-01T00:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-01T00:41:59.401-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Disclaimer</title><content type='html'>I am allowing Pinoy Undeground to publish my essay "P.S. 150 1st Semester AY 2004-2005 which I posted here on my blog last January 20, 2008, under the title "rainy sunday emo blues."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am also allowing the said community forum to publish my other entries found in this blog. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7742590951716429656-5931081106887360128?l=yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/feeds/5931081106887360128/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7742590951716429656&amp;postID=5931081106887360128' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/5931081106887360128'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/5931081106887360128'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/2009/07/disclaimer.html' title='Disclaimer'/><author><name>You can call me Cheska--</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02899180873032532818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/SKg5eVIFC0I/AAAAAAAAACc/0kdj-_oOOjw/S220/1_918523893l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7742590951716429656.post-4541869187068398006</id><published>2009-05-22T06:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-22T06:59:33.170-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sex video'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Hayden Kho'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Katrina Halili'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sex scandal'/><title type='text'>Hayden Camera: Setting Porn Free</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial;"&gt;Okay, so now I’ll be joining the media hype. Let’s ride on with Hayden Kho’s newfound popularity as a porn star/macho dancer/videoke master.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;Today I heard that Councilor Nanette Costelo-Daza of &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;Quezon   City&lt;/st1:City&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt; will be filing charges against Dr. Hayden Kho due to his sex video which is a “clear representation of violence against women’s rights and gender equality.” In his videos, the doctor/celebrity/ex-beau of celebrated plastic surgeon Dr. Vicki Belo was captured having sex with well-known women, such as actress Katrina Halili, model Maricar Reyes, and another model who hails from Brazil.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;Since the videos involved well known people the media swarmed on it like flies on street pizza, making a big issue regarding Kho’s credibility, and packaged the female subjects as victims of his machismo. But are they really victims in this light?&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial;"&gt;In a site dedicated to the actress, Katrina Halili says she seeks justice because her woman’s rights were lambasted upon the spread of the video. In the news she says she is determined to have the person who spread the videos apprehended and hopefully stop the dissemination of the video in the internet, on CDs and DVDs.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial;"&gt;Can’t the actress cut the crap out? First, wasn’t she aware that Kho was taking a video of their alleged Kama Sutra demonstration? Prior to the release of the actual sex video, there already is a video of her and Kho (dubbed as the “instructional dance video”) where they were dancing in front of the camera to the tune of George Michael’s “Careless Whisper,” wearing only underwear. She also has another clip where she was talking to Kho in front of the camera. Now she’s saying she seeks justice for being ripped off her woman’s rights. Hasn’t she realized that she already gave up her so-called “rights” by stealing another woman’s boyfriend? We all know that she and Kho had an affair while the doctor was still in a relationship with Dr. Belo.&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial;"&gt;On the video itself, we are fussing over it mainly because, as I’ve mentioned earlier, it involved well-known personalities. But what if it’s just like any other sex videos where unknown aspiring porn stars were involved? Then we wouldn’t have this issue, as it would just another sex video that seeks to help guys fulfill their vicarious thrills, and at the same time improve the Philippine porn business which earns around fifty million each year.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial;"&gt;I do not understand why there would be charges against Kho, and only him (and his fraternity brother Erik Chua, who allegedly was the one who uploaded the videos over the internet). I think that Katrina Halili and Maricar Reyes should be charged as well, for violating their own women’s rights.&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial;"&gt;Civic groups, human rights organizations, and most of all, politicians, ride on with this issue mainly because the sex video apparently destroys the “moral values” of the Filipino society. But rather than filing charges to Kho and his minions, or bran the video as “blasphemous” or “immoral,” I think it is better to look at the video at a more educational, while at the same time liberating perspective.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial;"&gt;The country is suffering from a fast moral decline and we know it. But the solution is not through apprehension or condemnation of those who exercise immorality. Rather, it is better to educate the people about sex and pornography not as forms of increasing one’s libido, but as creative ways in promoting procreation.&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial;"&gt;Sexual acts are seen as taboo by the public, but aren’t they the same ways in producing children? Then why be hypocrites in this issue? The act of procreation is celebrated through the movements done during the intercourse itself, and why should we deny ourselves of seeing that fact? While we brand sex as bad and immoral, then why do people do it in the first place? Hence, if the government, as well as the society who sees sex as dirty and illicit, then perhaps it’s time to promote artificial insemination instead. Now who would want that?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;Statistics say that more crimes involving sex and malice is due to the increase of pornography and the decline of the society’s moral values. I say, it’s in the way the sex and pornography is interpreted. I think that today’s existing institutions can boost the society’s moral values back by using these materials, in a more educational viewpoint. By making people understand what sex and porn really are (sans the word immoral and taboo), then there would be no issue such as this would happen.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;P.S. Katrina Halili, you packaged yourself as a sex symbol, and by that you should expect men violating your woman’s rights mainly because you want them to lust for you. I guess you have no right to ask for justice now that the sex video is released because after all, you asked for it.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&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 class="MsoNormal"&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;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7742590951716429656-4541869187068398006?l=yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/feeds/4541869187068398006/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7742590951716429656&amp;postID=4541869187068398006' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/4541869187068398006'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/4541869187068398006'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/2009/05/hayden-camera-setting-porn-free.html' title='Hayden Camera: Setting Porn Free'/><author><name>You can call me Cheska--</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02899180873032532818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/SKg5eVIFC0I/AAAAAAAAACc/0kdj-_oOOjw/S220/1_918523893l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7742590951716429656.post-783082361661256126</id><published>2009-03-25T21:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-25T21:59:23.968-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Chase for the Wonder Boys</title><content type='html'>It was a year ago when she cried a river for her wonder boy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moons have passed, but it seemed that she only learned to eat her words of self-salvation, as she didn't mind chasing another heart-which, still could not be hers. It is difficult to understand why her heart follows a masochistic path, knowing that she would fall into deep pain. Yet she wandered forth and hoped to finally capture his heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Desiderata. Life is not a chase, but a walk by the shore. Try to see the waves and smell the breeze. It is only your spirit that can heal your burns, if only you would allow it to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wonder boys, there are many of them in your lifetime. But they are neanderthals who, are merely absorbed in their own parallel universe. Don't you think you deserve a sapien this time around?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7742590951716429656-783082361661256126?l=yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/feeds/783082361661256126/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7742590951716429656&amp;postID=783082361661256126' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/783082361661256126'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/783082361661256126'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/2009/03/chase-for-wonder-boys.html' title='Chase for the Wonder Boys'/><author><name>You can call me Cheska--</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02899180873032532818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/SKg5eVIFC0I/AAAAAAAAACc/0kdj-_oOOjw/S220/1_918523893l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7742590951716429656.post-4920625078467541714</id><published>2009-03-24T10:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-25T22:02:27.557-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Asan na si Mabuti?</title><content type='html'>Asan na si Mabuti?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Marahil ilang taon na rin ang lumipas nang makilala ng madla ang batang si Mabuti. Si Mabuti ang representasyon ng tipikal na batang mag-aaral sa Pilipinas, mapa-pribado o pampubliko man ang kanyang pinapasukan. Si Mabuti ang batang inatasan ng isang mabigat na responsibilidad habang nasisilayan ang samu't saring problema sa kanyang kapaligiran, at ang responsibilidad na ito ay ang mag-aral.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Si Mabuti ba ay nakatapos ng pag-aaral? Matapos maabot ng guro ang puso niya, ano na ang nangyari kay Mabuti? Nakaapak ba siya ng high school o kolehiyo? O nag-asawa siya kaagad? O nakakilala ng barkadang sasamahan? Naabot kaya niya ang kanyang pangarap?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Asan na si Mabuti?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sa aking pananaw, si Mabuti ay nabubuhay sa puso ng bawat Pilipino. Sa iyo, sa akin, sa atin. Kung kaya't ang kinabukasan ni Mabuti ay nasa ating mga kamay, kung saan tayo ang huhubog at magdadala. Nasa sa atin na kung si Mabuti ay lalaking mangmang, adik, o propesyunal, or martir na asawa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Marahil si Mabuti ay isa paring musmos, na pinipilit mamulat sa isang lipunang isip-bata.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Para kay Genoveva Edroza Matute (1913-2009)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7742590951716429656-4920625078467541714?l=yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/feeds/4920625078467541714/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7742590951716429656&amp;postID=4920625078467541714' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/4920625078467541714'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/4920625078467541714'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/2009/03/asan-na-si-mabuti.html' title='Asan na si Mabuti?'/><author><name>You can call me Cheska--</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02899180873032532818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/SKg5eVIFC0I/AAAAAAAAACc/0kdj-_oOOjw/S220/1_918523893l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7742590951716429656.post-8258090972911402942</id><published>2009-03-18T19:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-18T19:54:07.128-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Run, Anadel, Run</title><content type='html'>How does it feel to be able to run again, Anadel?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know you never met gramma, but for sure she'd greet you with her signature beso. You see, she can be cold at times. But gramma's pretty cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been chasing for liberty, just so you know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I envy your beauty, your meekness. And I hate it when you never recognized my presence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Run, Anadel, run. Fate kept us apart. We never had the chance to play on the sandy beach.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We could have been sisters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Run, Anadel run. The clouds will be your playground.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do hope to see you again. One day we'd be able to do the things destiny once deprived us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anadel Juntilla&lt;br /&gt;1986-2009&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7742590951716429656-8258090972911402942?l=yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/feeds/8258090972911402942/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7742590951716429656&amp;postID=8258090972911402942' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/8258090972911402942'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/8258090972911402942'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/2009/03/run-anadel-run.html' title='Run, Anadel, Run'/><author><name>You can call me Cheska--</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02899180873032532818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/SKg5eVIFC0I/AAAAAAAAACc/0kdj-_oOOjw/S220/1_918523893l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7742590951716429656.post-8397851690147674859</id><published>2009-03-12T02:02:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-12T02:26:15.714-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Freedom Viewed from a Kaleidoscope</title><content type='html'>If you are a child of the 90's, for sure you know Francis Magalona. Known as the Philippines' Master Rapper, he started to dig groundbreaking success with his album "Yo!" way back in 1990, represented by the hit song "Mga Kababayan". Most of his songs were made up of nationalistic lyrics, stating the right of the youth to exercise their freedoms in the society. He eventually became a household name thanks to the Royal Tru Orange commercial where he teamed up with some of then's hottest teen stars to dance, sing and rap in the 45-second video.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was in gradeschool then, and yes, I was one whom you can call a child of the 90's. My classmates and I were big fans of Kiko back then, and even as I ventured towards life and beyond, he remained to be a great influence in my formative years. Kiko may not have known me, nor may he had realized it that much, but he provided a big contribution in the development of my present principles, as a person, as a member of the youth society, and as a citizen of this nation-state.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I admit I took Kiko's omnipresence in my life for granted. I hated some of his videos, rapped along some of his lyrics, and took for granted the airplay of his songs on the radio. But my neglect for his music's messages were not because of a fickle-mind's caprice; I thought Kiko would always be there. I thought, and always believed, that Kiko, Master Rapper Francis M., was immortal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I guess the prerequisite to immortality is death. The Master Rapper left the earth last March 6 after struggling with leukemia. Like most fans, I was saddened. I am saddened. Too bad I was miles away from Manila otherwise I would have been there at his wake, to pay my final rites for the man I considered to have molded my life as a writer, a lover, and a political animal. His death however awakened one dream I had, a reverie which I once chose to kill after losing hope-to grasp freedom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My heart is still bleeding for his loss, but I knew that upon his passing, Kiko left me, his fans, and all the members of the youth a legacy which all of us bear the responsibility to continue: fight for our rights, fight for our freedom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a fan, as a writer, and as a dreamer, I end my requiem with an aspiration that is once again reginited through the lyrics of his song:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Gusto kong matikman ang sarap ng buhay,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;hawakan ang bukas sa'king mga kamay.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will hold the future in my hands. I will, Kiko.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7742590951716429656-8397851690147674859?l=yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/feeds/8397851690147674859/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7742590951716429656&amp;postID=8397851690147674859' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/8397851690147674859'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/8397851690147674859'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/2009/03/freedom-viewed-from-kaleidoscope.html' title='Freedom Viewed from a Kaleidoscope'/><author><name>You can call me Cheska--</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02899180873032532818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/SKg5eVIFC0I/AAAAAAAAACc/0kdj-_oOOjw/S220/1_918523893l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7742590951716429656.post-7837831330385917910</id><published>2009-01-19T06:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T06:03:43.555-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Curious Case of the Tacloban Rainshowers</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="  white-space: pre-wrap; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;This is the first time I spent the new year in my hometown, Tacloban. During the holidays I was so excited because I haven't spent celebrating the season in this place, so I exhausted myself with all the merry-making my relatives had to offer. When New Year's eve came however, I suddenly felt sleepy and opted to go to dreamland in the midst of the firecracker extravaganza. Besides, it was a rainy evening and with the clouds covering the night sky, there would be no fireworks to shine on midnight.  New Year's Day arrived, and the rain continued to pour. To my surprise, the showers didn't cease even after a few days. Tacloban mornings were awfully cloudy, and the city seemed to be deprived of sunshine. I had to wear my hooded jacket and bring an umbrella to the places I went, and I could only wonder why the rain pour wouldn't stop even if there was no threat of storms in the area.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; font-size: 13px; white-space: pre-wrap; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="  white-space: pre-wrap; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;One afternoon while watching another rainfall in my bedroom window, I remembered and old saying that rain showers are supposed to clean up the land. The purpose of rainfall is to wash away the dirt and grime the land has incurred due to human abuse, and after a long rain pour, sunshine would welcome the soil that's now blessed with new life. That's when it struck me. Tacloban has always been a dirty place, it even went to the top of the charts (as the dirtiest city in the Philippines). The streets of downtown are crowded at night not by people but of garbage and sewer rats, and there's nothing the people could do (save for a few X-men also known as metro aides who try to sweep some trash during midnight). Perhaps the heavens are trying to clean up this city, but despite their continuous efforts to wash away the rubbish, nothing has seemed to change. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; font-size: 13px; white-space: pre-wrap; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; font-size: 13px; white-space: pre-wrap; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "&gt;Tacloban is now an HUC, but is this really the answer to the city's current problems? I could only wonder. Even the heavens can't seem to find a solution. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  white-space: pre-wrap; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px;font-family:-webkit-monospace;font-size:13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7742590951716429656-7837831330385917910?l=yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/feeds/7837831330385917910/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7742590951716429656&amp;postID=7837831330385917910' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/7837831330385917910'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/7837831330385917910'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/2009/01/curious-case-of-tacloban-rainshowers.html' title='The Curious Case of the Tacloban Rainshowers'/><author><name>You can call me Cheska--</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02899180873032532818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/SKg5eVIFC0I/AAAAAAAAACc/0kdj-_oOOjw/S220/1_918523893l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7742590951716429656.post-3546312766185007914</id><published>2009-01-18T06:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-18T06:01:36.429-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Children's Park and Tacloban's Quest in Becoming a Highly Urbanized City</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; color: rgb(85, 85, 85); font-family: arial; font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"&gt;&lt;div id="ln0" style="padding-bottom: 5px;"&gt;I was watching a travel show on a cable channel last week and there was a restaurant featured in Charlotte, North Carolina. The said diner was known for its fried hotdog sandwiches which people from all walks of life enjoy. What struck me however is that the diner has been around since 1928, and the owners of the establishment didn't change any part of the place to preserve its nostalgia-the diner reminds its townsfolk of the memories they had over the past 80 years.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div id="ln2" style="padding-bottom: 5px;"&gt;I meanwhile began to think about Children's Park. Situated in front of Tacloban's Provincial Capitol, Children's Park used to be the main playground of the city's future citizens, (kids, of course). However, due the ongoing plans for commercial development, the Children's Park was demolished (the ruins still stand though) and was in a way transferred to a nearby coastal lot which is now called "Family Park".&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div id="ln4" style="padding-bottom: 5px;"&gt;I was born in Tacloban, but due to the circumstances I was not able to spend my growing up years here. But the Children's Park became a vital part of my heritage, since my aunt, who grew up in Tacloban, always shared to me her fond memories as a child in the said playground. It was the place where she enjoyed her life as a kid, and where she build foundations of friendship with her classmates. Through the photographs I saw her and her classmates playing at the big shoe, and rode on the stone elephants that stood in the park.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div id="ln6" style="padding-bottom: 5px;"&gt;I first visited to Tacloban when I was 9, but since I was lost in translation I wasn't able to play and make friends with the kids at Children's Park. It took me another 13 years to return after that short visit, but unfortunately Children's Park wasn't there anymore. I soon found out that the site where the Children's Park once stood was supposed to be used for a mall, but the project didn't push through. These days the site of Children's Park is being used as a place where used clothes are sold for bargain prices (ukay-ukay).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div id="ln8" style="padding-bottom: 5px;"&gt;I am not sure if my aunt already knows about the demise of the playground she learned to love, but for sure she would be saddened to learn this fact. Children's Park is among the few places in Tacloban where people come in peace and share solace, where children build memories of fun and laughter. Children's Park is also the perfect site where government offices can view their people united, which is a good reminder of not just the city's culture, but of the people's socio-political strength.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div id="ln10" style="padding-bottom: 5px;"&gt;As I view it, the demolition of Children's Park is a cruel way of robbing the Taclobanons' culture. The park was a cultural landmark, and it cannot be replaced or transferred for the sake of commercial goals. Was the relocation of the park among the plans towards becoming a highly urbanized city? I do understand the city's needs for better economic development, but I can't seem to find a good reason for putting the city's socio-cultural landmarks at risk. I believe, that no matter how economically stable a state is, it still is worth nothing without culture, for it lives with no spirit. The same goes with its microcosm, such as the city of Tacloban.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div id="ln12" style="padding-bottom: 5px;"&gt;The people of have decided however. I just hope that the consequences of the choice they made would not take a painful toll in Tacloban's future.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7742590951716429656-3546312766185007914?l=yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/feeds/3546312766185007914/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7742590951716429656&amp;postID=3546312766185007914' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/3546312766185007914'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/3546312766185007914'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/2009/01/childrens-park-and-taclobans-quest-in.html' title='Children&apos;s Park and Tacloban&apos;s Quest in Becoming a Highly Urbanized City'/><author><name>You can call me Cheska--</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02899180873032532818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/SKg5eVIFC0I/AAAAAAAAACc/0kdj-_oOOjw/S220/1_918523893l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7742590951716429656.post-6648305455431076057</id><published>2009-01-02T23:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-02T23:54:43.291-08:00</updated><title type='text'>anniversary</title><content type='html'>I remember the same day last year I was locked in an internet shop in La Trinidad, Benguet, trying to cope with the cold mountain winds that came from the northern hemisphere. The day was sunny though and the gales were dry. I was frantic for being broke, my head was still a bit woozy due to the bottles of beer I consumed during our New Year's day celebration. The same day last year, while waiting for my payment, I found myself setting up this blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has been a year. Has been.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7742590951716429656-6648305455431076057?l=yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/feeds/6648305455431076057/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7742590951716429656&amp;postID=6648305455431076057' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/6648305455431076057'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/6648305455431076057'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/2009/01/anniversary.html' title='anniversary'/><author><name>You can call me Cheska--</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02899180873032532818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/SKg5eVIFC0I/AAAAAAAAACc/0kdj-_oOOjw/S220/1_918523893l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7742590951716429656.post-1554075432501227568</id><published>2008-11-28T11:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-28T11:55:50.124-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Rancid Petals</title><content type='html'>It's been four years since&lt;br /&gt;WE came from you and me&lt;br /&gt;I lean my head on your shoulder and sigh&lt;br /&gt;and say I love you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been four years since&lt;br /&gt;we laughed about life and held hands and promised forever&lt;br /&gt;and we lived through bliss and sins&lt;br /&gt;and still we are&lt;br /&gt;together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Together us forever. Forever we be together&lt;br /&gt;You and me, me and you.&lt;br /&gt;Promises were never empty&lt;br /&gt;Four years and still counting, forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been four years since&lt;br /&gt;we shared dreams and fought the nightmares&lt;br /&gt;in you arms I am kept safe&lt;br /&gt;and you find comfort in my embrace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Together us forever. Forever we be together&lt;br /&gt;You and me, me and you.&lt;br /&gt;Promises will hold on to be true.&lt;br /&gt;Four years and counting, forever me and you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-to lia and maki&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7742590951716429656-1554075432501227568?l=yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/feeds/1554075432501227568/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7742590951716429656&amp;postID=1554075432501227568' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/1554075432501227568'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/1554075432501227568'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/2008/11/rancid-petals.html' title='Rancid Petals'/><author><name>You can call me Cheska--</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02899180873032532818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/SKg5eVIFC0I/AAAAAAAAACc/0kdj-_oOOjw/S220/1_918523893l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7742590951716429656.post-2122655779438378936</id><published>2008-11-26T22:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-26T22:21:17.210-08:00</updated><title type='text'>We Love, We Die</title><content type='html'>They say we die a little each day when we love. But the irony of it is that we try to live each day because of it. We want to see the next sunrise because we expect the object of our affection to be present right before our very eyes, and we would try our best to stretch the whole 24-hours just to fulfill all our self-proclaimed tasks to make that person (or whatever entity that is we fell in love with) happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A part of us dies each day when we love. Just like when drinking alcohol, when the toxins kill a small percentage of our brain cells each time we take a sip. Yet we savor the feeling, we cherish every little bit of it, for it is the most ecstatic feeling that can touch the deepest and darkest of our hearts. We know that to consume alcohol can be deadly, yet we rather chose to die since we would die in bliss. Just like love. We would want to love, and love to the fullest, even if it hurts, even if we get hurt, and die eventually.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But until when would we choose to take the blissful, satisfying road, only when death is waiting for us at the end? Indeed there are other things in life which we can enjoy, yet expect the path to be long and winding. I personally would want to take the blissful road, despite knowing the fact that I'll be reaching a cliff, and yes, I did fall off that cliff a number of times in my lifetime. Right now I am taking a detour, trudging on the long, solitary, winding path to some destination, which, offers me a longer lifespan. And yet, deep in my heart, I would want to die. Even if it takes one piece at a time, as long as love is present in my eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please hand me a beer.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7742590951716429656-2122655779438378936?l=yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/feeds/2122655779438378936/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7742590951716429656&amp;postID=2122655779438378936' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/2122655779438378936'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/2122655779438378936'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/2008/11/we-love-we-die.html' title='We Love, We Die'/><author><name>You can call me Cheska--</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02899180873032532818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/SKg5eVIFC0I/AAAAAAAAACc/0kdj-_oOOjw/S220/1_918523893l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7742590951716429656.post-3457352167412833791</id><published>2008-10-13T03:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-13T03:42:42.243-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Why Do Writers Write?</title><content type='html'>Today I was able to talk to PsychoDollie's best friend, Chucky Manio. And on the course of our conversation, I let him read the love letter I was on the process of completing. He said it was so cliche. The emotions, the words, they all are cliche. Then he said maybe he was just the kind of person who doesn't fully understand what love means, after all, I was writing a &lt;em&gt;love letter.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then he asked me to read the manuscript of this Tagalog story he was currently busy doing. Upon reading the manuscript I told him that it was dry. It lacked the crisp, though it was nostalgic. And it sounded a wee bit semi-autobiographical.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Talk about an exchange of opinions. Upon hearing this, he retracted by telling me that perhaps I'm not the right person to read his story. And here goes the other criticisms such as I'm... in general... a cliche. My writeups are all cliche. My plots, my feelings, everything. There's no attempt to change the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which leads me to ask, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;why do writers write, anyway?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Indeed, on the course of history, writers have played a big part in changing the world. Through their writings they were able to wake up sleeping minds, come up with inventions, and drastically lead the society to the concept of a better, brighter future. But is this all writers are for?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I say no. Because above all, a writer's job is not only to awaken minds, but to touch hearts. Chucky, I can say, is one great writer in the making. But who cares? If you don't have an audience who believes in you not because you are great, but rather they feel what you write, then what's the point of writing? Quoting Chucky's words, having a cult following who doesn't understand any of the words you say, and only look up to you because you write well, then wouldn't that be &lt;em&gt;oh so poser?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Swim in that sea of greatness, Chucky. Even drown with it.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7742590951716429656-3457352167412833791?l=yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/feeds/3457352167412833791/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7742590951716429656&amp;postID=3457352167412833791' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/3457352167412833791'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/3457352167412833791'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/2008/10/why-do-writers-write.html' title='Why Do Writers Write?'/><author><name>You can call me Cheska--</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02899180873032532818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/SKg5eVIFC0I/AAAAAAAAACc/0kdj-_oOOjw/S220/1_918523893l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7742590951716429656.post-4411477597081023220</id><published>2008-09-23T12:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-23T13:27:41.342-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Nang bumaba ang ulap sa dalampasigan</title><content type='html'>Tumambad kay Carlito ang isang pamilyar na lumang bahay nang siya'y magkamalay. Kahawig nito ang tahanang kanilang pinupuntahan ng kanyang ina tuwing may mahalagang okasyon. Naaamoy niya ang tubig-dagat sa may dalampasigan, nguni't bagamat alam niyang nakarating na siya dito, tila ba hindi pa rin niya maalala kung saang bahagi ito ng mundo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Carlito!" isang babae ang tumawag sa kanyang pangalan. "Bakit andito ka?"&lt;br /&gt;"Mama?" gulat siyang tumugon sa boses na tumawag sa kanya. "Asan ako?"&lt;br /&gt;"Umakyat ka nga rito." utos nito sa kanya, na kanya namang sinunod.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pagpasok ni Carlito sa bahay ay nasilayan niya ang mga lumang muwebles, ang andador kung saan sila naglalaro ng kanyang mga nakababatang kapatid na sina Ogie at Ferdie, at ang altar na puno pa rin ng mga sariwang bulaklak. Andito nga siya sa lumang bahay. Ang bahay ng kanyang lola.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Mama, bakit kayo andito?" tanong ni Carlito sa kanyang Mama. Hindi ito ang kanyang ina, pero ang tawag ng halos lahat ng kaniyang mga kapamilya dito ay Mama. Si Mama ay kanyang tiyahin, ang nakatatandang kapatid ng kanyang ina.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Siyempre, bahay ko 'to," ngiti nito sa kanya. "Maupo ka muna. Pagod ka siguro. Ang ipinagtataka ko lang ay kung bakit ka naririto."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hindi ko rin alam Mama." sagot niya. "Basta paggising ko andito na ako."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Katahimikan. Matayog ang sikat ng araw, at ang mga alon ay kanyang natatanaw mula sa bintana. Bumukas ang pinto ng pamamahay, at may isang lalake ang pumasok.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Tio Odit?" muling napitlag si Carlito nang makilala ang lalaki.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"O, may bisita pala tayo!" bati nito sa kanya. "Pasensiya ka na iho, walang tagay dito. Haha. Di ko naman alam na darating ka eh." Niyakap siya nito at siya'y napaisip. Isa ba itong panaginip?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Mukhang hindi lamang siya bumibisita, Odit." sambit ng kanyang tiyahin. "Carlito, may naghihintay sa'yo sa baba."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pagdungaw ni Carlito sa bintana ay natanaw niya ang isang taong matagal na niyang nais na muling makapiling. Nang siya'y makita, ngumiti ito sa kanya at kumaway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"TAY!!!!!!!!!!!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bumaba si Carlito at tumakbo patungo sa kanyang amang nakatayo sa may dalampasigan. Sinalubong siya nito ng mahigpit na yakap at halik sa magkabilang pisngi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Carlito, bakit ka naririto?" tanong nito sa kanya. "Hindi ba dapat nasa piling ka ng nanay mo? Napakabata mo pa para makarating dito." Aninag ang pag-aalala sa mga mata ng kanyang ama.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hindi ko rin alam, 'Tay. Basta ang alam ko kasama na kita ulit. Hindi ko alam kung paano ako nakarating dito, pero sinalubong ako ni Mama, at ni Tiyo Odit." hindi kumalas si Carlito sa pagkakayapos sa kanyang ama.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Pati lola mo andito." sabi ng kanyang ama.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Muling napaisip si Carlito sa lahat ng nagyayari. Kapiling niya sa mga sandaling iyon ang kanyang ama, ang dalawang kapatid ng kanyang ina, at naroroon siya sa lumang bahay na alam niyang matagal nang natupok ng apoy. Pero bakit heto't muli itong nakatayo?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Anak, ang sarap dito, hindi ba?" tanong ng kanyang ama. "Malamig, tahimik, mapayapa. Ito ang langit, anak. Pero hindi ba't masyado pang maaga para makarating ka dito?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Langit. Ang kanyang ama, si Tiyo Odit. Si Mama. Lahat sila'y mga namayapa na. Noon lang napagtanto ni Carlito ang lahat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;R.I.P., &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Carlito P. Cumpas (1964-2008)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7742590951716429656-4411477597081023220?l=yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/feeds/4411477597081023220/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7742590951716429656&amp;postID=4411477597081023220' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/4411477597081023220'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/4411477597081023220'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/2008/09/nang-bumaba-ang-ulap-sa-dalampasigan.html' title='Nang bumaba ang ulap sa dalampasigan'/><author><name>You can call me Cheska--</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02899180873032532818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/SKg5eVIFC0I/AAAAAAAAACc/0kdj-_oOOjw/S220/1_918523893l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7742590951716429656.post-2611974527558952539</id><published>2008-09-23T10:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-23T11:22:29.028-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Counterpoint, 09-23-08</title><content type='html'>And I can't help but write, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;dial911&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You've always tried to make me understand that I mean everything to you. But there are just some entities which you have to care for, including your love for yourself. These things, they hinder us from holding each other's hands.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fly me to the moon, let us sit side by side and take an obtuse view of the universe. The galaxy is just so wide our eyesight can't just see everything. Lay your head on my lap. I stroke your hair and sing to you a lullabye. What a perfect way to spend this what seems to be an everlasting midnight, with the stars twinkling like gems, revolving around us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We do stare at the same hemisphere, but only at different grounds. But the love was strong enough to keep us together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But we also are aware that distance keeps not only our bodies, but our hearts apart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Patience is not my virtue. But I tried to make amends. I still do. I hope, I pray, I wait. Because I believe that the love we have can keep up against all odds. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Please say you love me. We both have a dream of gazing at the stars-together.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been a year. Happy birthday. Remember that true love comes when a soul finds its counterpoint in another. I've found mine in you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Love.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7742590951716429656-2611974527558952539?l=yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/feeds/2611974527558952539/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7742590951716429656&amp;postID=2611974527558952539' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/2611974527558952539'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/2611974527558952539'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/2008/09/counterpoint-09-23-08.html' title='Counterpoint, 09-23-08'/><author><name>You can call me Cheska--</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02899180873032532818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/SKg5eVIFC0I/AAAAAAAAACc/0kdj-_oOOjw/S220/1_918523893l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7742590951716429656.post-4841419526354259303</id><published>2008-09-10T12:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-10T13:15:57.499-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Love Song Syndrome: Episode 4</title><content type='html'>"Hello Tito Jake, Pemay to." wika ko sa telepono. "Malapet na prom namin, padala ka ng pera pambili ko ng dress."&lt;br /&gt;"Ok." sagot niya. "Oo nga pala, sa Valentine's Day pumunta ka dito. Magluluto ako. Ayoko mag-isa sa araw na yun."&lt;br /&gt;"Ang emotional mo naman, Tito." banat ko. "Magmukmok ka na lang sa opis."&lt;br /&gt;"Eh, ayoko ng kantiyaw. Basta, punta ka dito ok. Magsama ka ng date mo kung gusto mo." Gusto ko matawa sa sitwasyon ng tito ko. Sa kabila ng pagiging isang matapang na NBI agent, napaka-hopeless romantic niya. Kakabreak lang nila ng fiancee niya na si Trina last week, kaya bitter pa siya.&lt;br /&gt;"Tito, &lt;em&gt;one day you may find true love that would last forever&lt;/em&gt;." Paalala ko.&lt;br /&gt;"Haha. Poor heart of mine. Siya, sige babay na. I'll send you your shopping money tomorrow." Paalam niya. "Goodnight dear."&lt;br /&gt;"Night Tito." at binaba ko na ang telepono.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nang patulog nako, inisip ko kung sino ang pwedeng maging ganon ka-baduy para padalhan ako ng mga sulat na may lamang lyrics ng kanta. Si Sonny, si Jicho... o baka naman wrong send. Pero hindi e. Ay nako ewan. Maitulog na nga lang 'to. Madami pako gagawin bukas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;toot. toot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;May nag-message sa cellphone ko. Guess what. Lyrics parin ng kanta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Bakit nagkatagpo... bakit tuloy nagkalayo...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;bakit mayron pang nadarama ngayong hindi na tayong dalawa...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hindi ko kilala kung kaninong number to. Arrrgh!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kinaumagahan, dumaan muna 'ko sa Delaney's bago pumasok sa campus. Nakalimutan ko kasi ID ko dun kaya kinuha ko muna. Sakto namang andun si Sir Arnold, ang may-ari ng kainan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Pemay! Buti naman dumaan ka." salubong niya saken.&lt;br /&gt;"Hi Sir Arnold, naiwan ko kasi ID ko dito e." ngiti ko.&lt;br /&gt;"May package na dumating para sayo." Kilig niyang sabi.&lt;br /&gt;"Oh? Galing kanino?" nagtaka naman ako.&lt;br /&gt;"Ewan. Special delivery daw e."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pagpasok namin ng resto ay nakita ko ang package ko. Kaya naman pala kinikilig si Sir Arnold e dahil puro bulaklak at balloons ang package. Hehe. At may sulat pa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I believe in dreams, I believe in miracles...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I believe that toy balloons, can reach and touch the moon...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Uuuy... secret admirer..." dutdot sakin ng boss ko. "Sino yan ha?"&lt;br /&gt;"Hindi ko rin po alam." Nakangiti kong sagot. "Sir dito muna yan. Pasok lang ako. Babay."&lt;br /&gt;"Sige sige... ingat lover girl!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ayoko na isipin kung sino ang gumagawa nito saken. Maliban kay Sonny, wala na akong ibang alam na pwede maging suspect. Di pwede si Jicho dahil may Andrea na siya. Kung taga-ibang school naman, hindi kaya si...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7742590951716429656-4841419526354259303?l=yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/feeds/4841419526354259303/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7742590951716429656&amp;postID=4841419526354259303' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/4841419526354259303'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/4841419526354259303'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/2008/09/love-song-syndrome-episode-4.html' title='Love Song Syndrome: Episode 4'/><author><name>You can call me Cheska--</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02899180873032532818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/SKg5eVIFC0I/AAAAAAAAACc/0kdj-_oOOjw/S220/1_918523893l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7742590951716429656.post-4820220693317396141</id><published>2008-09-10T08:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-10T12:52:40.635-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Love Song Syndrome: Episode 3</title><content type='html'>Ok ok ok. Ganito yun. Hindi naman sa nagmamaganda ako pero nung first year high school ako e naging kami ni Sonny. Classmates kami. Pero di naman kami ganon kaseryoso, although talagang naging crush ko sha noon. Nang matapos yung relasyon namin (hehehe puppy love), wala na. Until nung third year ako at naging ka-MU ko etong si Jicho, ang kuya ni Dyan. Mejo malabo ang love story namin, kaya hanggang MU lang. Matapos din nun, wala na. Pero baket may mga gantong lyrics akong natatanggap?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;After ng sideline kong pagwa-waitress sa resto-bar na Delaney's, dumiretso ako sa bahay nina Edward, ang best friend ko mula kinder. Andun daw kasi ang barkada, may inuman. Malapet lang naman bahay nina Edward samen kaya ok lang. Besides, sino ba maghahanap saken sa bahay. Pagdating ko dun, oo nga andaming tao. Kumpleto barkada, kasama si Jicho.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"Hi people."Bati ko sa kanila. Well shempre chika-chika na naman tapos nood ng TV, pero sa totoo lang wala ako sa mood para makihalubilo kung kaya't umakyat na lang ako sa terrace para magpahangin. Dun ko naalala na malapit na nga pala ang prom at wala parin akong damit. Hindi pako nakakatawag sa tito ko para humingi ng pambili ng prom dress, kaya naman naging busy muna ko sa pag-iimagine kung anong magandang damit na isusuot. Sakto namang nagpatugtog si Mang Caloy, ang kapitbahay ni Edward.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;Looking kinda lonely girl..do you want somone new to talk to...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"Pemay..." biglang may tumawag sa pangalan ko. Paglingon ko, si Jicho.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"Uy Jicho," sagot ko. "Musta?"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"Ayos lang. " ngiti nya. "Natanggap mo ba yung card?"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"Oo, binigay ni Dyan." tango ko. "Para san ba yun?" (Patay-malisya. Weh.)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"Hindi para sayo yun e." Kamot niya ng ulo. "Para kay Andrea sana. Ehehe. Nagkamali lang si Dyan ng pagbigay, sabi ko un report card ko yung ipakita sayo. Hehe."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Ay, shet. Agad kong nilabas yung card na binigay ni Dyan saken kanina at inabot kay Jicho. "Yan o. Bigay mo na kay Andrea."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"Hehe. Salamat."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Ayan, solved na ang isang kaso. Hehe. After 30 minutes e nilisan ko na ang bahay ni Edward at tumungo na ng bahay. Pagod nako. Tatawagan ko pa si Tito Jake. Pero pagdating ko ng bahay, may sulat na nakasingit sa may gate.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;Hindi man dumating sakin ang panahon na ako ay mahaling muli&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;asahan mong di ako magdaramdam kahit ako'y nasasaktan...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;wag mo lang ipagkait na ikaw ay aking mahalin.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Geesh... sino ba talaga to? Hindi si Jicho. Si Sonny? Sino pa ba ang pwede gumawa nito? Kung di rin lang taga-school...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7742590951716429656-4820220693317396141?l=yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/feeds/4820220693317396141/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7742590951716429656&amp;postID=4820220693317396141' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/4820220693317396141'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/4820220693317396141'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/2008/09/love-song-syndrome-episode-3.html' title='Love Song Syndrome: Episode 3'/><author><name>You can call me Cheska--</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02899180873032532818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/SKg5eVIFC0I/AAAAAAAAACc/0kdj-_oOOjw/S220/1_918523893l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7742590951716429656.post-7726534997762792981</id><published>2008-09-10T05:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-10T08:20:11.269-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Love Song Syndrome: Episode 2</title><content type='html'>"Ah, Sonny," sambit ko. "May tatanong sana ko."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ano yun?" tugon niya. Akma na sana akong magsasalita nang biglang nagring ang bell. Tapos na recess. "Uy tara na tapos na recess."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ah, ok, sige," shet bitin naman o. Tatanong ko pa naman sana yung tungkol sa sulat at lyrics sa bench. Grrr!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mahirap yung exam sa Physics. Pero ayos lang. Nastress ako kaya naman dumiretso nako kagad sa Delaney's para magtrabaho. Sakto namang andun si Dyan, bloodshot eyes na naman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Uy, problema mo?" lapit ko sa kanya. Ay nako, heart problem na naman to. "Benedict ba?"&lt;br /&gt;"Pemay!!!!!" yakap niya sakin. "Wala na kami!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Figures. Hindi ko muna inungkat yung naging dahilan ng away nila dahil away nila yun e. Vent mode muna si Dyan at saka na siya magkwento kapag kalmado na siya. Tama namang bumirit ang tugtog sa radyo, matapos pag-iiyak ni gaga.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Ayoko sana... na ikaw ay mawawala&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Mawawasak lamang ang aking mundo..&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Pero anong magagawa... kung talagang ayaw mo na&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sino ba naman ako para pigilan ka...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Pemay, thank you ha," ngiti ni Dyan saken matapos niya humagulgol on a sunny afternoon. "Oo nga pala, pinabibigay ni Kuya Jicho." Binigyan niya ako ng isang card.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;It's so sad to belong to someone else when the right one comes along...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seryoso ba 'to? Kanina, iniisip ko si Sonny. Pero bakit pati si Jicho eekstra?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;----------------------------&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7742590951716429656-7726534997762792981?l=yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/feeds/7726534997762792981/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7742590951716429656&amp;postID=7726534997762792981' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/7726534997762792981'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/7726534997762792981'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/2008/09/love-song-syndrome-episode-2.html' title='Love Song Syndrome: Episode 2'/><author><name>You can call me Cheska--</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02899180873032532818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/SKg5eVIFC0I/AAAAAAAAACc/0kdj-_oOOjw/S220/1_918523893l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7742590951716429656.post-5711192593569853602</id><published>2008-09-10T01:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-10T08:21:10.645-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Love Song Syndrome</title><content type='html'>Galing ako sa gig kagabi at super inaantok pako nang pumasok ako sa campus. Gusto ko pa matulog pero may quiz daw kami today sa Physics kaya hindi pwede umabsent. Para sa isang dakilang absenera, bago to para saken.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pagpasok ko sa classroom ay yumuko kagad ako sa desk ko. I am really sleepy. Halos mahimbing na ata ako sa kinatutulugan ko nang biglang may tumapik saken.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hoy Pemay, may nagpapabigay sayo." abot sakin ni Pau, classmate ko. Inabutan nya ko ng papel na nakatiklop, kulay puti at walang kaayos-ayos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Kanino galing?" mapungay pa mga mata ko. Hehe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ewan. Pinaabot lang din saken e. Oi sige puntahan ko muna sina Monet." at nilayasan nako ng classmate ko. Binuksan ko naman ang papel thinking baka kung anong importanteng message ang laman. Pero eto lang ang nakasulat:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Wala paring iba... ang papalit sayo.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Ikaw parin lagi ang iibigin ko.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kanino kaya galing to? Lyrics ng kanta to e. At sino naman ang mangangahas magbigay neto sakin, e antagal ko nang walang love life dito sa school? Well nung first year si Sonny. Hehe. Pero matagal na yun e. Hahabulin ko sana si Pau para papagsalitain kung sino nagpabigay nito sa kanya pero nagsimula na ang klase. Quiz time. Haay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-------------&lt;br /&gt;Recess. Gaya ng kinagawian mag-isa akong kumain ng chibog sa bench. Dun naman ako tumatambay every recess time, at alam na ng buong campus na eto ang pwesto ko. Kaya habang nagbabasa ng lesson para sa walang kwentang Social Studies, nagpapapak ako ng kropek. Nang may napansin ako sa sandalan ng bench.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;If loving you is all that means to me&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Being happy is all I hope you'll be&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;When loving you must mean&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I really have to set you free.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bagong sulat lang to e, wala naman to kahapon. Sino ba talaga to?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Pemay," may nakiupo sa tabi ko. Si Sonny, classmate ko na ex ko nung first year.&lt;br /&gt;"Uy.." nagulat ako. Shet, sha kaya?&lt;br /&gt;"Pengeng kropek." Sabay kuha ng kropek sa bench. "Lutong pa ha. Bago ba to?"&lt;br /&gt;"Ah, oo." tango ko. Mejo namumulang ewan ang pisngi ko kasi baka si Sonny nga talaga ang may bigay neto?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hmmmmm.....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7742590951716429656-5711192593569853602?l=yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/feeds/5711192593569853602/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7742590951716429656&amp;postID=5711192593569853602' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/5711192593569853602'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/5711192593569853602'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/2008/09/ikaw-pa-rin.html' title='Love Song Syndrome'/><author><name>You can call me Cheska--</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02899180873032532818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/SKg5eVIFC0I/AAAAAAAAACc/0kdj-_oOOjw/S220/1_918523893l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7742590951716429656.post-6284693293460141223</id><published>2008-09-07T11:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-07T11:25:37.460-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bukas</title><content type='html'>Ano ba ang naghihintay bukas&lt;br /&gt;kapag sinabi mong mahal mo nga ako&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pag-ibig ba ang laman ng iyong puso?&lt;br /&gt;Ayaw ko ng mga pangako.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hawak kamay natin suntukin ang buwan&lt;br /&gt;sa piling mo ngayon ako'y maligaya.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ngayon. Ngunit paano sa pagdating ng balintataw?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bukas.&lt;br /&gt;Ang bawat pintig ng aking puso&lt;br /&gt;ay para sayo.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7742590951716429656-6284693293460141223?l=yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/feeds/6284693293460141223/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7742590951716429656&amp;postID=6284693293460141223' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/6284693293460141223'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/6284693293460141223'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/2008/09/bukas.html' title='Bukas'/><author><name>You can call me Cheska--</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02899180873032532818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/SKg5eVIFC0I/AAAAAAAAACc/0kdj-_oOOjw/S220/1_918523893l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7742590951716429656.post-8184415134409310067</id><published>2008-09-04T22:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-04T22:40:16.123-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Minsan, kumulo ang tiyan ko.</title><content type='html'>Linggo. Katatapos ko lang makipagkwentuhan kay AB. Nagkasalubong kami sa IRC ng wala sa oras at dahil dun nagkita kami. At nagkamustahan. At nagstargazing sa may UP Bliss. Pareho kaming emo e. Nang maghiwalay kami, pumunta muna ko sa Meals to Go para bumili ng dinner. Masilog (maling, sinangag, itlog) na hindi ko malaman kung asan ang sinangag. Walang lasa ang itlog, at mas lalo naman un maling. Nang makuha ko ang order ko e dumerecho nako sa Alva. Dun ko nilantakan ang Masilog ko habang nagbubukas ng friendster. Pero di ko pa man nauubos ang kinakain ko....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Biglang sumakit ang tiyan ko. Kelangan ko sumugod sa CR.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Out of order ang CR sa second floor. Sarado na ang Chowking pati na rin un paid restroom sa baba. No choice ako kundi tumakbo sa Jollibee Philcoa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kumukulo na talaga ang tyan ko. Pagpasok ko sa cubicle ng CR ay talagang inilabas ko lahat ng toxins na nagpapasakit ng tiyan ko that very moment. Masaket. Mahilab. Nakakairita ang feeling. Buti na lang sandamakmak ang tissue sa bag ko kaya ayos lang.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nang matapos nako magpunas at mag-iwang, tumayo nako para iflush ang kubeta. Nang may lumagatok sa toilet bowl na something na hindi malambot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Clink.. clink...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pagtingin ko, ang selpon ko napapasama na sa pagflush. Umiilaw-ilaw pa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lekat naman o. Kukunin ko sana un fone pero dumerecho na sha sa poso negro ng Jollibee. Di ako makapaniwala sa nangyari.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wala nakong telepono.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well after 2 weeks... meron na ulet. hehehe&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7742590951716429656-8184415134409310067?l=yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/feeds/8184415134409310067/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7742590951716429656&amp;postID=8184415134409310067' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/8184415134409310067'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/8184415134409310067'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/2008/09/minsan-kumulo-ang-tiyan-ko.html' title='Minsan, kumulo ang tiyan ko.'/><author><name>You can call me Cheska--</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02899180873032532818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/SKg5eVIFC0I/AAAAAAAAACc/0kdj-_oOOjw/S220/1_918523893l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7742590951716429656.post-3463397486857183390</id><published>2008-09-01T05:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-01T05:25:41.603-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hinde!</title><content type='html'>e pano na yan kung talagang tamaan ka? lekat ka pala e.  hilig mo magpatintero.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7742590951716429656-3463397486857183390?l=yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/feeds/3463397486857183390/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7742590951716429656&amp;postID=3463397486857183390' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/3463397486857183390'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/3463397486857183390'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/2008/09/hinde.html' title='Hinde!'/><author><name>You can call me Cheska--</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02899180873032532818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/SKg5eVIFC0I/AAAAAAAAACc/0kdj-_oOOjw/S220/1_918523893l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7742590951716429656.post-7915532387464350808</id><published>2008-08-26T14:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-26T15:07:55.454-07:00</updated><title type='text'>ideal date</title><content type='html'>they held hands. it was the first time they held hands since the moment they became together. for her it was surreal. his feeling was mutual.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it was a brisk evening, and despite misty dew brought about by the pseudo-winter season, they still breathed against the warm breeze that blew past them. they were seated on the green grass fronting a vast lot. they were far from the seas, nor the mountain ranges. but they watched the sunset and waited for the stars to shine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;they were actually waiting for a star to fall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;he wrapped his arm around her. she placed her head on his shoulder. he then lit two sticks and gave her one. they smiled before getting a smoke. he was happy. she was content. they both wished that the moment would stay that way forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;darkness fell. hours later they headed to a watering hole and sought for dark lager and ravioli for dinner. afterwards they proceeded to a cheap motel and held hands again. he wouldn't let her go. she felt safe in his arms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but love was something still yet to be born.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;P.S. To edtot ni riatot.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7742590951716429656-7915532387464350808?l=yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/feeds/7915532387464350808/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7742590951716429656&amp;postID=7915532387464350808' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/7915532387464350808'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/7915532387464350808'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/2008/08/ideal-date.html' title='ideal date'/><author><name>You can call me Cheska--</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02899180873032532818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/SKg5eVIFC0I/AAAAAAAAACc/0kdj-_oOOjw/S220/1_918523893l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7742590951716429656.post-3278820945117898556</id><published>2008-08-21T06:48:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-21T06:54:58.539-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Writer's Block Day 1</title><content type='html'>ENTITY A: eh.. seryoso may writer's block ka?&lt;br /&gt;ENTITY B: oo. hindi nga ako makapagsulat ng matino.&lt;br /&gt;A: ngek edi dapat was ka nasusulat sa blog na to ngayon.&lt;br /&gt;B: tanga. stress-release tong ginagawa ko hindi ako nagsusulat ng obra.&lt;br /&gt;A: aaah. sori naman.&lt;br /&gt;B: saka pasalamat ka nga at may writer's block ako. kung wala edi di kita kinakausap ngayon. remember, i created you.&lt;br /&gt;A: anong you created me? feelingera ka ren no. i'm just acting as your reflection right now. parang yung trademark ng safeguard commercial. "ako ang iyong konsensha."&lt;br /&gt;B: ke lumabas ka o hinde, wala ren kun di kita papansinin.&lt;br /&gt;A: kesa naman sa wala kang kausap.&lt;br /&gt;B: heh!&lt;br /&gt;A: heh ka ren!&lt;br /&gt;-silence-&lt;br /&gt;B: mahal mo ba ko?&lt;br /&gt;A: hinde.&lt;br /&gt;B: hindi ikaw tanga. sarili ko tinatanong ko.&lt;br /&gt;A: nakatingin ka sa monitor kung nasan ako "virtually present". wag ka ngang kimidora.&lt;br /&gt;B: makapaghanap nga ng ibang kausap.&lt;br /&gt;A: kung may mahanap ka. hahahaha.&lt;br /&gt;B: ulul. kakangkang na lang ako.&lt;br /&gt;A: uy sama ko wait lang!&lt;br /&gt;B: tseh! jan ka sa monitor. bye!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7742590951716429656-3278820945117898556?l=yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/feeds/3278820945117898556/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7742590951716429656&amp;postID=3278820945117898556' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/3278820945117898556'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/3278820945117898556'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/2008/08/writers-block-day-1.html' title='Writer&apos;s Block Day 1'/><author><name>You can call me Cheska--</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02899180873032532818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/SKg5eVIFC0I/AAAAAAAAACc/0kdj-_oOOjw/S220/1_918523893l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7742590951716429656.post-3947507209858506142</id><published>2008-08-17T08:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-17T09:08:38.065-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Minsan, tumawag si God.</title><content type='html'>One Sunday night while watching Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, nag-ring ang cellphone ko. Teka. Ang alam ko sira ang cellphone ko. Pero seryoso ba 'to, nagriring ito?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Private number pa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hello?" sagot ko.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hello Fae," isang boses ng lalake ang sumagot. Mejo mala-tatay ang tunog. "Si God to."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Huh?" nagulat ako. Seryoso ba to? Malamang isang friend ko na nagti-trip lang. "Sino to?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sinabi ko na nga diba? I'm God. And I'm calling to check on my child, you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"God, as in the Christian God? The Catholic God?" sige sinakyan ko na lang. "God Buddhist na po ako. Ano pong meron?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I am the ethereal God. I exist in whichever faith you believe in." sabi nya. "Ikaw naman. Tumawag lang ako para kamustahin ka. Medyo busy ka these days diba?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ok lang. Teka, dapat alam ninyo ang latest buzz sa buhay ko. Ikaw ang Diyos, eh."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Of course I want to know your side of the story." Para siyang kumindat. "Saka ayaw mo bang kinakamusta kita? Ikaw na lang-iisa diyan ngayon dahil kinuha ko na mga kapamilya mo. At alam ko rin na hindi ka pa masyadong nakakapagluksa dahil marami kang dapat asikasuhin."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ok lang ako, no." ngiti ko. "God, I never knew you could be this cheesy."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You know my child," hinga niya. "Life is a piece of cheese. Puno ng butas. Pero pag nalampasan mo ang mga gusot sa tamang paraan, edi ayos."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sinadya mo ba talaga yun?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Secret."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So God, may tanong ako." Hirit ko.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Toll-free tong gamit kong linya." Ay. Daya alam nya kung ano itatanong ko. &lt;em&gt;Magkano ang charge sa tawag nya saken.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Duga mo."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Anak, hindi naman ako umimbento ng monetary values e. Tao may pakana nyan." katwiran nya. Right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Silence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"God, mahal mo ba ko?" hirit ko sa kanya.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oo naman, Fae. I love all my children, at kabilang ka dun."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ok. Panigurado lang."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Haha. Ikaw talaga. Well, I guess you're doing ok. Sige marami pakong tatawagan. Alam mo na, hectic schedule ko."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sige salamat po. Buti naman nasingit nyo pako sa sked nyo. Hehe."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Siya, Fae. Hi daw pala sabi ng lola mo." Paalam ni God.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Pakisabi na lang po hi din."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Good night, my child." at nawala na siya sa linya.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nang buksan ko ang aking mga mata, tapos na ang Harry Potter. Umaga na pala.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7742590951716429656-3947507209858506142?l=yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/feeds/3947507209858506142/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7742590951716429656&amp;postID=3947507209858506142' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/3947507209858506142'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/3947507209858506142'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/2008/08/minsan-tumawag-si-god.html' title='Minsan, tumawag si God.'/><author><name>You can call me Cheska--</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02899180873032532818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/SKg5eVIFC0I/AAAAAAAAACc/0kdj-_oOOjw/S220/1_918523893l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7742590951716429656.post-1261319934981956535</id><published>2008-08-17T07:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-17T07:51:49.475-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sa Dulo ng Bahaghari</title><content type='html'>Marahil ay masyado na kaming matatanda para isipin kung ano ang nasa dulo ng bahaghari. Pero para sa anak kong si Alice, hindi lamang bangang puno ng ginto ang naghihintay sayo kapag narating mo ang dulo ng pitong kulay na animo’y isang kalsada ng mga laso. Hindi lamang ginto, kundi isang libo’t isang kayamanan na hindi matutumbasan ng anumang salapi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ilang buwan pa lamang nang isilang ko ang aking anak nang muling sinimulan ni Mama ang kanyang hilig sa pagpipinta. Magaling na pintor si Mama, ngunit pinili niyang bitiwan ang kanyang ambisyon para sa isang higit na mabigat na propesyon, ang maging maybahay ng aking ama. Isa iyong pakikibaka para sa akin. Wala akong natatandaang masasayang alaala naming ni Papa. Marahil dahil ito sa kanyang mga bisyo na aking kinalakhan, sa mga gulo at away na kanyang sinimulan. Pero nanatili si Mama na nakaalalay sa kanya at pilit na binuo an gaming pamilya, kahit alam niyang sa huli ay aalis rin kami at magtataguyod ng sarili naming mga buhay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wala na sina Ate at ang kanyang pamilya nang balikan ni Mama ang pagpipinta. Matapos pakainin si Alice, siya’y hahawak ng pinsel at guguhit ng kung anu-anong kanyang maisipan. Isa na rito ang bahaghari. Sabi sa akin ni Mama noon, kapag narrating ko ang dulo ang bahaghari ay makakamit ko ang isang banga na puno ng gintong barya. Pero alam naman ng lahat na kathang-isip lang iyon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pero parang mas malalim ang nalalaman ni Alice tungkol sa bahaghari.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Minsan isang hapon, nadatnan ko si Alice na nakaupo sa kanyang andador. Nakakapagtakang wala si Mama gayong siya ang nag-aalaga sa aking munting anghel sa oras ng aking pagtulog. Nawawala si Mama. At si Alice ay nakatitig lamang sa harap ng larawan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tapos nap ala ang ipininta ni Mama. Isang babaeng mistulang papalapit sa dulo ng bahaghari na may ilang banga ng gintong barya. Matagal kong pinagmasdan ang larawan, at noon ko lamang napagtanto na kapareho ni Mama ng buhok ang babaeng kanyang iginuhit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ako’y nataranta. Agad kong hinalughog ang bahay, at wala si Mama. Wala rin ang ilan sa kanyang mga damit. Ginising ko si Kuya at sinabi kong umalis si Mama, pero bumalik lamang ito sa kanyang pagtulog. Lumabas ako ng bahay at nakita ko si Papa, nakatingin sa malayo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Pa, umalis si Mama.” Sambit ko.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Hayaan mo. Babalik rin yan.” Sagot niya sa akin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pero hindi na bumalik si Mama.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hindi ko alam kung kanyang hinanap ang ginto sa dulo ng bahaghari. Pero kung mayroong sigurado, iyon ay ang kalayaan na kanya nang natamo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hindi na bumalik si Mama.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7742590951716429656-1261319934981956535?l=yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/feeds/1261319934981956535/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7742590951716429656&amp;postID=1261319934981956535' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/1261319934981956535'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/1261319934981956535'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/2008/08/sa-dulo-ng-bahaghari.html' title='Sa Dulo ng Bahaghari'/><author><name>You can call me Cheska--</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02899180873032532818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/SKg5eVIFC0I/AAAAAAAAACc/0kdj-_oOOjw/S220/1_918523893l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7742590951716429656.post-8762501008194738385</id><published>2008-07-15T08:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-15T08:42:12.387-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Poverty Makes Me Laugh</title><content type='html'>I now find myself laughing mechanically. By mechanically I mean I laugh without even having a reason for doing so. And that I'm conscious that there's nothing funny. You may think I'm nuts. I guess I am going nuts. But I guess I have passed the next level after catatonia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am depressed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And my depression is repressed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's all because of poverty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Poor me. Single, unloved, unpretty, unwanted. And now, broke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I'm just wondering why I'm not yet suicidal. Maybe because I'm not afraid of poverty. I only try to kill myself when I'm scared.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7742590951716429656-8762501008194738385?l=yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/feeds/8762501008194738385/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7742590951716429656&amp;postID=8762501008194738385' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/8762501008194738385'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/8762501008194738385'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/2008/07/poverty-makes-me-laugh.html' title='Poverty Makes Me Laugh'/><author><name>You can call me Cheska--</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02899180873032532818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/SKg5eVIFC0I/AAAAAAAAACc/0kdj-_oOOjw/S220/1_918523893l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7742590951716429656.post-3958326178304583593</id><published>2008-06-25T05:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-25T09:58:01.759-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ataul Shopping</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;That was a Monday. February 10, 2008. We were all stressed by the way the events were happening, but anybody can justify why everything still seems to be surreal, especially for the three of us. I was sick, stressed and lacked a good sleep due to the emotional turmoil and work deadlines that I had to meet. My mom was still flabbergasted. Tia meanwhile, tried to be the same stern Tia that she is known for. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;During that time, we were standing in front of a deck of caskets-in different shades and sizes. With us was Ed, the owner of the funeral parlor. He was urging us to upgrade the funeral service that they'd be giving, because the basic service was free.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Mama, my grandmother, passed away earlier that day.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;We're grateful that the Brgy. Council shouldered the funeral services or else Mama would be left waiting for us at the hospital morgue for a few days more.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;So there we were, shopping for a coffin. While my dense, inconsiderate mother was picking the better looking, more expensive caskets, Tia was about to explode like an atomic bomb any moment due to peer pressure, and it was up to me to detonate her.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Tia then asked me softly, "Ikaw, anong desisyon mo tungkol dito? Mag-uupgrade ba tayo?"&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;"Huh?" I was still half-asleep. "Teka. Di naman kasama ataol sa cremation diba? (We planned, and we did have Mama cremated)"&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;She sighed and gave a slight nod.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;"Then walang upgrade." I simply closed the discussion. "Mommy pengeng 8k kung gusto mo ng pink na ataol."&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&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/7742590951716429656-3958326178304583593?l=yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/feeds/3958326178304583593/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7742590951716429656&amp;postID=3958326178304583593' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/3958326178304583593'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/3958326178304583593'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/2008/06/ataul-shopping.html' title='Ataul Shopping'/><author><name>You can call me Cheska--</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02899180873032532818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/SKg5eVIFC0I/AAAAAAAAACc/0kdj-_oOOjw/S220/1_918523893l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7742590951716429656.post-5711346083009912630</id><published>2008-06-16T00:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-16T00:27:50.336-07:00</updated><title type='text'>the other F girl (part 2)</title><content type='html'>I was busy watching how Yasmien Kurdi pouts and cries in front of yummy JC de Vera and my former crush Patrick Garcia in &lt;em&gt;Babangon Ako't Dudurugin Kita &lt;/em&gt;when my phone went toot-toot stating there's a message daw.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"hi."&lt;/strong&gt;-&lt;/span&gt;09xx-xxxxxxx&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Di ko kilala yung number. Shempre reply ko, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffccff;"&gt;"hus dis?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;"fae, david to."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffccff;"&gt;"david? as in david****?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;"yea."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aba, bakit nagtext sakin to? Pa'no nya nalaman ang number ko? Baket siya nabuhay muli? Ha? Ha? Ha?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffccff;"&gt;"oi. musta?"&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;text ko. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffccff;"&gt;"pano mo nakuha number ko?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;"kay iya."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffccff;"&gt;"ah."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;"nakita pla kita nun isang araw sa may tandang sora. naglalakad ka dun."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffccff;"&gt;"o?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;"uu."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffccff;"&gt;"ah. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffccff;"&gt;baket ka pala napatext?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;"eh.. wala namiss kita."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffccff;"&gt;"ows?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;"uu kaya."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffccff;"&gt;"gago. its been 6-7 yrs na noh since huli tau nagusap?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;"ehehee. ata."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffccff;"&gt;"sows."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;"uy. bisi ka ba?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffccff;"&gt;"hindi naman baket?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;"i mean, sa sat?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffccff;"&gt;"di ko lam, baket?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;"kita tau."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffccff;"&gt;"ay."&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;baket????!!!!!!!!!!! &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffccff;"&gt;"baket?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;"dun ko na lang sabihin."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffccff;"&gt;"pasuspense."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;"ehehe. surprise na lang. to naman spoiler ka e."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffccff;"&gt;"hmmm.. sige. text ka na lang."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;"ok."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffccff;"&gt;"di ba magagalet si gf?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;"la na kami."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh. ow??????????!!!! di nga? makalipas ang mahigit limang taon nagbreak din ang dalawang to? hindi nga? seryoso?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffccff;"&gt;"seryoso ba yan?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;"uu."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffccff;"&gt;"baket? tagal nyo rin a."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;"un nga e. sa tagal namin ikaw parin pala."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;di ako nagreply.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;"fae?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffccff;"&gt;"ano. sa sabado na lang. hehe."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;*pero walang naganap na pag-uusap pagsapit ng sabado. hehehe&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7742590951716429656-5711346083009912630?l=yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/feeds/5711346083009912630/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7742590951716429656&amp;postID=5711346083009912630' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/5711346083009912630'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/5711346083009912630'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/2008/06/other-f-girl-part-2.html' title='the other F girl (part 2)'/><author><name>You can call me Cheska--</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02899180873032532818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/SKg5eVIFC0I/AAAAAAAAACc/0kdj-_oOOjw/S220/1_918523893l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7742590951716429656.post-1915236543899383069</id><published>2008-06-07T14:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-07T14:46:44.600-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Video 48: RUDY FERNANDEZ [Movie Ads Circa 76-80]</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://video48.blogspot.com/2008/03/rudy-fernandez-movie-ads-circa-76-80.html"&gt;Video 48: RUDY FERNANDEZ [Movie Ads Circa 76-80]&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7742590951716429656-1915236543899383069?l=yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://video48.blogspot.com/2008/03/rudy-fernandez-movie-ads-circa-76-80.html' title='Video 48: RUDY FERNANDEZ [Movie Ads Circa 76-80]'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/feeds/1915236543899383069/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7742590951716429656&amp;postID=1915236543899383069' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/1915236543899383069'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/1915236543899383069'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/2008/06/video-48-rudy-fernandez-movie-ads-circa.html' title='Video 48: RUDY FERNANDEZ [Movie Ads Circa 76-80]'/><author><name>You can call me Cheska--</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02899180873032532818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/SKg5eVIFC0I/AAAAAAAAACc/0kdj-_oOOjw/S220/1_918523893l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7742590951716429656.post-3640444365823381737</id><published>2008-06-05T07:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-05T11:10:21.432-07:00</updated><title type='text'>the princess and the bitch</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; "&gt;Dear Cheska,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-weight: bold; "&gt;&lt;br style="font-weight: bold; "&gt;Hey, how's it been? It's like almost four months since we last met, and that was during your lola's wake. Musta ka na, dear? Alam mo yun, ever since I graduated college hindi na tayo nagkakasama. Tapos when I went to law school pa madalang na rin tayo mag-usap. I guess I was too preoccupied with my stuff, and I'm sorry if I don't get to hang out with you na. I miss you a lot alam mo yun. I miss our secret pig-outs at the back of my car whenever we are distressed, of course pati na rin yung mga shopping escapades natin kahit ako lang yung bili ng bili ng stuff. Hihi. Anyway, grad ka na ba? Kasi wala na talaga akong balita sayo. I really do wish that you get to finish your studies na. Diba you said you're gonna go to law school din? I want that para maging magkasama ulet tayo.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I'm in New York right now for my summer vacation.  Pero I'm gonna go home na rin sa June 9. Do you want any pasalubong ba? Just tell me so I can get some stuff for you. Hey, lamo, something happened pala. My Hunny and I broke up na. :( Just the other night. We had a long talk on the phone and he told me na we can't work things out anymore. Kasi daw we have a lot of differences that will never meet. I soooo cried after we talked, kasi during our conversation I held myself back from crying. Ayoko marinig nya na umiyak ako. But I do miss him so much na. Di nya alam how much I love him. He doesn't have another girl daw sabi ng friends namin. Pero was it my fault ba na I gave him too much pressure? Kasi nga diba parehom kaming nasa law school? I don't want to be like a dumb blonde naman just to meet his needs. Pero Cheska, I really do want him back. Can you help me ba with this?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Let's talk more when I get back okay? I love you dear.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; "&gt;!@#$%^&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;---------------------------&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Dearest,&lt;br&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; "&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;Wag mo muna pakelaman ang tungkol sa graduation ek ek ko dahil ikaw tong may problema. I'll graduate in time.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Anyway. So nagbreak na kayo. Well if you really do want him back then talk to him as soon as you come back here. You two can arrive at a better settlement once you talk about your breakup in person, and not just over the phone, tuladi ni Heart at Jericho. Ano ba kasi ang exact reason kung baket kayo nag-break? It can't be just merely irreconcilable differences, unless specified yung mga arguments nyo. About the pressure thing, you know I've been through that and I feel you. But sometimes you do have to make such sacrifices for the sake of love, and in your case, your pride was at stake. You being much smarter took its toll on his ego. Hehe. But the sacrifice should be two-way din. He should've let go of some of his ego to support you. And since this happened, I guess he care more about his ego and macho image than you. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; "&gt;To put it bluntly, he loves himself more than he loves you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Nakatsamba ka lang na first boyfriend mo kamukha ng crush mong si Jake Cuenca. Pero I've got news for you. Break na rin si Jake at ang GF nyang si Roxanne Guinoo. Pagkakataon mo na para umentra. Di nga lang law student si Jake Cuenca. Nyahahahahha.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Come back here. Bring me a sack of chocolates to boost my serotonin levels, Hunter S. Thompson's &lt;span style="font-style: italic; "&gt;Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas&lt;/span&gt;, a ream of alhambra cigars, tanning spray, and a pair of Chuck Taylor sneakers color pink size 8.5. Ikaw na magconvert sa American size.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Thanks. I'm such a user.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Cheska.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;P.S. Do you actually consider me your friend given that I am so obnoxious? Haha. I miss you.&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/7742590951716429656-3640444365823381737?l=yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/feeds/3640444365823381737/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7742590951716429656&amp;postID=3640444365823381737' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/3640444365823381737'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/3640444365823381737'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/2008/06/princess-and-bitch.html' title='the princess and the bitch'/><author><name>You can call me Cheska--</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02899180873032532818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/SKg5eVIFC0I/AAAAAAAAACc/0kdj-_oOOjw/S220/1_918523893l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7742590951716429656.post-2919502270402728989</id><published>2008-06-03T01:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-03T01:53:44.091-07:00</updated><title type='text'>kit.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/SEUFugImg-I/AAAAAAAAACQ/Z0iZ9Wsi8oY/s1600-h/A+001%5B1%5D.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/SEUFugImg-I/AAAAAAAAACQ/Z0iZ9Wsi8oY/s320/A+001%5B1%5D.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207574840581981154" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i only care about the man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7742590951716429656-2919502270402728989?l=yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/feeds/2919502270402728989/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7742590951716429656&amp;postID=2919502270402728989' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/2919502270402728989'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/2919502270402728989'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/2008/06/kit.html' title='kit.'/><author><name>You can call me Cheska--</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02899180873032532818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/SKg5eVIFC0I/AAAAAAAAACc/0kdj-_oOOjw/S220/1_918523893l.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/SEUFugImg-I/AAAAAAAAACQ/Z0iZ9Wsi8oY/s72-c/A+001%5B1%5D.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7742590951716429656.post-4523931099360514839</id><published>2008-06-03T00:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-03T00:31:22.828-07:00</updated><title type='text'>STOP</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 255);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;dwelling on the things of the past.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7742590951716429656-4523931099360514839?l=yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/feeds/4523931099360514839/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7742590951716429656&amp;postID=4523931099360514839' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/4523931099360514839'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/4523931099360514839'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/2008/06/stop.html' title='STOP'/><author><name>You can call me Cheska--</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02899180873032532818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/SKg5eVIFC0I/AAAAAAAAACc/0kdj-_oOOjw/S220/1_918523893l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7742590951716429656.post-4206581606743956836</id><published>2008-06-02T12:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-02T13:12:43.724-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pangako</title><content type='html'>Dear&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt; !@#$%^&amp;amp;*&lt;/span&gt;,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've always thought I'd end up with you. You who first materialized what heroes are like, you who in your simple direction saved me from going astray. You very well remember the day we first met: I was a stranger in a deserted place that rainy afternoon and you were the only person I found. We didn't know each other, yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Only to realize that we would be sharing the same circle of friends as the years went by.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then one day when we thought of ourselves to be grown ups, we agreed to share a hot afternoon filled with couch potato fun. It was then when you first attempted to reveal your so-called feelings, but I back then was too naive to notice what that kiss on my forehead meant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Infatuation. We both were under that spell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But for another reason I never understood is why you pointed out my weaknesses as an overgrown adolescent. I was happy with what I was, a 17-year old who still took the time off playing tag with younger kids. Despite the two-year age gap, we were generations apart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On one meeting I gave you a promise. I told you I'll grow up. Which, apparently, we both forgot. You forgot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A string of unexpected events rolled over for the span of five years. Now here we were. You're now a family man. I'm still on the process of mourning for a lost loved one. I'm still aching for a damaged heart, and broken pride. I could say I'm stronger, better, more sensible as compared before. But everything's too late.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm scared, just like a damsel in distress. But it's not because of the monster that's about to gobble me up; it's because my knight isn't there anymore. You say I'm smart, I'm pretty, and that I deserve a better man. I know I do, but to be honest I found the best in you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder if I still find it in my heart to fall again, at least under that spell of infatuation. I do have one regret though: I wish I was mature enough five years ago. Everything could have fallen into place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I still thank God that you found me that day. I wish you all the best, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;!@#$%^&amp;amp;*&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Prinsesa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7742590951716429656-4206581606743956836?l=yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/feeds/4206581606743956836/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7742590951716429656&amp;postID=4206581606743956836' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/4206581606743956836'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/4206581606743956836'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/2008/06/pangako.html' title='Pangako'/><author><name>You can call me Cheska--</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02899180873032532818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/SKg5eVIFC0I/AAAAAAAAACc/0kdj-_oOOjw/S220/1_918523893l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7742590951716429656.post-8961203794921401793</id><published>2008-06-01T10:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-01T11:20:18.654-07:00</updated><title type='text'>04:59</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 255); font-weight: bold;"&gt;How do people fall in love?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Nobody knows exactly the answer. But he decided to take the stand and search for clues and finally stumble upon a good reason. Consciousness did make things a wee bit difficult for him, but despite the rocky road, he struggled to go past his journey.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until one Saturday night. He caught himself in the midst of a crowd hypnotized under the spell of trance music. He nearly suffocated, and in order to gasp for air he had to follow the motion of the warm bodies that danced like as if there was no tomorrow. He felt like he was being hypnotized as well. But he didn't think of going against the flow. The man-made clouds made it look like heaven, and with every beat he felt free...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Free to hold the body leaning against him. Her eyes were glittery. She was dancing. And she smiled while she bumped at him. They listened to the music. They took the step of every beat. He was aware that this madness would last only until the music stops, but hence he found himself holding a soda can with her leaning on his shoulder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The party has just ended. But the two of them sat on the grass waiting for the sunrise. Slowly the birds began to croon and the morning mist was everywhere. She was cold. She snugged in his arm and smiled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He didn't know what to do. He looked at her and realized that she was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. He couldn't figure out exactly what he felt, but at that moment he wanted to give her all the comfort she needs. He didn't know her name. But his soul screamed to be with her from that day forward.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 255); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Hearts do meet at the break of dawn.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 255); font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204); font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255);"&gt;P.S. Para kay Don.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 255); font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7742590951716429656-8961203794921401793?l=yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/feeds/8961203794921401793/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7742590951716429656&amp;postID=8961203794921401793' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/8961203794921401793'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/8961203794921401793'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/2008/06/0459.html' title='04:59'/><author><name>You can call me Cheska--</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02899180873032532818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/SKg5eVIFC0I/AAAAAAAAACc/0kdj-_oOOjw/S220/1_918523893l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7742590951716429656.post-229649216324407263</id><published>2008-05-28T11:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-28T12:29:01.558-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Culture Robbed Me of the Ability to Fall In Love (essay version)</title><content type='html'>And I was robbed of that certain feeling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can no longer remember when I last felt my heart beat fast. I think I have already forgotten about the sweet scent of flowers or the how sentimental music makes any place glow with a different hue. Do you think I am beginning to romanticize things again? Perhaps. But have we ever thought of romance without associating it with the word &lt;em&gt;love&lt;/em&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can rather accuse me of over-romaticizing things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But going back, what if, romance was associated with another emotion aside from love? The emotion would be then void of passion, sweetness and stupidity, not to mention graphic representations of flowers, chocolates and other material items capitalism can take advantage of during "special" days. How can be love be like without romance? If one's going to base it on superficialities, then we can always refer to aging relationships, at least. But what do we know about the love that blossomed between couples who are about to celebrate their golden wedding anniversary? While we are all absorbed about carnal desires and materialism, they meanwhile focus on selfless and unconditional service in order to sustain each other's needs and wants. Talk about morning breakfasts and afternoon siestas, Sunday masses and family reunions. Can't we consider those simplicities romantic?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now. I'm caught in web of problems. First, I've been single for almost a couple of years now, cumulatively, technically. And standing in a world surrounded by people in love (or in relationships) just makes things worse. I'm dying to be in a relationship&lt;em&gt;. Desperada&lt;/em&gt;, but hell. It's I who's suffering from that feeling and not those who would think of me of such description. In the first place, don't I deserve to be in one?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But how can I do so when my heart now finds it difficult to pump the emotion alive? Yes, relationships can be built from consensus, as long as two individuals settle on an agreement to hold hands and work things together as a team. But how about the feeling, the &lt;em&gt;kilig&lt;/em&gt;, the passion and most of all, the romance? Aren't these things equally important to make the relationship work? Or is it all about the money, the benefits and other partinership ventures that keep the relationship alive?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could've chosen to dwell on the lessons of probablity and statistics to cheat my way into winning the lottery jackpot. But what would all the money be worth if I don't have someone to share it with? Just like with the simple joys life has to offer. What would they be if they were not to be romanticized and used to enrich one's memoir of love? Thus, I chose to hope.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7742590951716429656-229649216324407263?l=yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/feeds/229649216324407263/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7742590951716429656&amp;postID=229649216324407263' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/229649216324407263'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/229649216324407263'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/2008/05/culture-robbed-me-of-ability-to-fall-in.html' title='Culture Robbed Me of the Ability to Fall In Love (essay version)'/><author><name>You can call me Cheska--</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02899180873032532818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/SKg5eVIFC0I/AAAAAAAAACc/0kdj-_oOOjw/S220/1_918523893l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7742590951716429656.post-1342833970026501311</id><published>2008-05-28T06:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-28T06:47:47.025-07:00</updated><title type='text'>and i am tired of being single.</title><content type='html'>e sa suyang suya nako sa pagiging single e.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;just venting.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7742590951716429656-1342833970026501311?l=yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/feeds/1342833970026501311/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7742590951716429656&amp;postID=1342833970026501311' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/1342833970026501311'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/1342833970026501311'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/2008/05/and-i-am-tired-of-being-single.html' title='and i am tired of being single.'/><author><name>You can call me Cheska--</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02899180873032532818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/SKg5eVIFC0I/AAAAAAAAACc/0kdj-_oOOjw/S220/1_918523893l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7742590951716429656.post-7694038925437365785</id><published>2008-05-23T11:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-23T11:46:52.769-07:00</updated><title type='text'>fredo and rodrigo</title><content type='html'>kalagitnaan ng gabi.&lt;br /&gt;umuulan sa buwan ng mayo.&lt;br /&gt;magkahawak ang kanilang mga kamay.&lt;br /&gt;kapwa nangungusap ang kanilang mga mata sa gitna ng karimlan.&lt;br /&gt;kanila ng mundo. dalawang estrangherong nagtagpo para pagsaluhan ang isang gabing malamig.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;at tumunog ang cellphone ni rodrigo. may nagtext.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hoy bakla san ka? tagay tayo. depressed ako. -si ria.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"ang silbi ko ba sa mundo'y maging comforter ng mga depressed?" tanong ng isa sa sarili. "sacrificial. selfless. parausan."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"ikaw ang pipili ng disposisyon mo sa buhay." tugon ng kanyang kasama. "masarap mag-alay ng pagmamahal, totoo. pero masarap rin ang mahalin."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"nagmahal ka na ba?" muli, siya'y nagtanong. "minsan nasa sa iyo na nag lahat. ang talino. ang face value. ang performance level. pero ano ba talaga ang presyo ng tunay na pag-ibig?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;silencio ang isinagot sa kanyang katanungan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ngunit matapos ng ilang mahahabang sandali, ang kanyang karamay ay bumuntonghininga.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"ngayon pa lang." sabay alay ng isang maalab na halik sa kanyang mga labi. na agad niyang pinutol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"hindi ko pa alam ang pangalan mo."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"kung bibigyan moko ng pagkakataon. ang pangalan ko'y fredo."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"rodrigo."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;at kanyang pinatay ang kanyang cellphone.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7742590951716429656-7694038925437365785?l=yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/feeds/7694038925437365785/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7742590951716429656&amp;postID=7694038925437365785' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/7694038925437365785'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/7694038925437365785'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/2008/05/fredo-and-rodrigo.html' title='fredo and rodrigo'/><author><name>You can call me Cheska--</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02899180873032532818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/SKg5eVIFC0I/AAAAAAAAACc/0kdj-_oOOjw/S220/1_918523893l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7742590951716429656.post-3438636821002199121</id><published>2008-05-23T01:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-23T01:56:11.268-07:00</updated><title type='text'>the other F girl</title><content type='html'>Break na si Fifi at David!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Iyon ang bulalas samin ni Coco nung nagkita kami sa Starbucks-Katipunan. Actually kay Iya lang nya sinabi yon, hindi sakin. Hindi ko naman kasi kilala yung Fifi at David na yun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Iya: O talaga? Baket? Antagal rin nila ha. Mahigit 5 years ba?&lt;br /&gt;Coco: Oo nga e. Naalala ko nung high school ako nagbuking kay David na crush siya ni Fifi. Sakin bale nagsimula ang love story nila. Hindi ko pa nakakausap si Fifi pero pinapunta ko na siya dito para ikwento ang nangyari.&lt;br /&gt;Ako: Sinong Fifi at David ba yan?&lt;br /&gt;Coco: Mga classmates namin nung high school na lovers. Sila ang love team ng batch namen. Mamimeet mo rin si Fifi. Nagtext na siya e. Papunta na raw.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah ok. Siya sige, kahit hindi ako mahilig sa girl talk at pagbibigay ng moral support para sa isang newly broken up couple, since andito na rin lang ako e wala na akong choice. Maya-maya lang at dumating ang isang taong hindi ko kakilala ng personal pero kilala ko ang pagktao. At kilala rin ako. At kilala rin nina Iya at Coco.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fifi!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Paglapet ni Fifi samin ay sinalubong siya ng yakap ni Iya at Coco. At ako'y apathetic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Coco: Fifi, si Fae pala, friend namin. Fae, si Fifi, yung kinukwento ko kanina.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tahimik lang si Fifi na nakatingin sakin, parang namumukhaan ako.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fae: Hi. Musta?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Iya: Ang cold mo naman. Kita na ngang bagong break yung tao tapos parang wala kang pakialam.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fifi: Okay lang ako, thank you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Coco: O Fifi, baket naman kayo nagbreak ni David? Sayang naman yung relationship ninyo.&lt;br /&gt;Tahimik paren si Fifi at hindi makapagsalita. Nakatingin lang siya sakin.&lt;br /&gt;Iya: Fifi, huy. Nappressure ka ba? Sige wag mo muna ikwento kung di mo pa kaya.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fifi: David woke up one morning and told me that he still loves his ex.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Coco at Iya: May ex si David?!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;Coco: Panu yun, e diba mula high school kayo na? Ako pa nga nagbuking sa inyo diba?! Panu nangyari yun, elementary? At sino yung girl na yun?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fifi: May naging GF siya nung second year siya. Sandali lang.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Iya: Pero antagal na nun e. Pano naman nanumbalik yung feeling? Nagkita ba sila?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fifi: Hindi ko alam. Basta bigla na lang niya sinabing ganon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Fae: Aaah. Kaya pala ko biglang tinawagan ni DJ kagabi. Gusto daw ako makita. Pano nya pala nakuha number ko?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Napatingin lang sakin si Iya at Coco. At tumiim ang tingin sakin ni Fifi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hehe.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7742590951716429656-3438636821002199121?l=yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/feeds/3438636821002199121/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7742590951716429656&amp;postID=3438636821002199121' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/3438636821002199121'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/3438636821002199121'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/2008/05/other-f-girl.html' title='the other F girl'/><author><name>You can call me Cheska--</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02899180873032532818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/SKg5eVIFC0I/AAAAAAAAACc/0kdj-_oOOjw/S220/1_918523893l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7742590951716429656.post-2703989303043624939</id><published>2008-05-23T01:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-23T01:16:48.046-07:00</updated><title type='text'>raindrops and resignation</title><content type='html'>with all due respect i wish to leave&lt;br /&gt;the place where solace created my insanity&lt;br /&gt;i long for fear, struggle and adventure&lt;br /&gt;my heart's born for the wild.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i am not for desktops;&lt;br /&gt;to conquer the universe is my mission.&lt;br /&gt;the road not taken awaits me&lt;br /&gt;i seek the shadows of death.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;trinkets of memories blur my sight&lt;br /&gt;but hence the memoirs remain holograms&lt;br /&gt;to forget. to regret. to live again.&lt;br /&gt;the frontier is just a cloud away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;will the reaper take me to places&lt;br /&gt;man dare not go?&lt;br /&gt;chills indeed rattle my spine.&lt;br /&gt;but fate has plans.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7742590951716429656-2703989303043624939?l=yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/feeds/2703989303043624939/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7742590951716429656&amp;postID=2703989303043624939' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/2703989303043624939'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/2703989303043624939'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/2008/05/raindrops-and-resignation.html' title='raindrops and resignation'/><author><name>You can call me Cheska--</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02899180873032532818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/SKg5eVIFC0I/AAAAAAAAACc/0kdj-_oOOjw/S220/1_918523893l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7742590951716429656.post-1604664495210461653</id><published>2008-05-20T06:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-20T06:51:57.096-07:00</updated><title type='text'>culture robbed you of the ability to fall in love</title><content type='html'>happy birthday, sis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;where do you find happiness? with the people you love, the food you eat or with money you receive on your payday? you see, i'm experiencing bouts of random joys for no apparent reason, and these episodes are beginning to worry me. is this the after effect of chronic depression? i did take meds, you see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but. am i--oh. sorry. you're not my shrink.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7742590951716429656-1604664495210461653?l=yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/feeds/1604664495210461653/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7742590951716429656&amp;postID=1604664495210461653' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/1604664495210461653'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/1604664495210461653'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/2008/05/culture-robbed-you-of-ability-to-fall.html' title='culture robbed you of the ability to fall in love'/><author><name>You can call me Cheska--</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02899180873032532818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/SKg5eVIFC0I/AAAAAAAAACc/0kdj-_oOOjw/S220/1_918523893l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7742590951716429656.post-6996963954458748811</id><published>2008-05-18T10:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-18T10:20:13.189-07:00</updated><title type='text'>as stupid as it sounds, but i'm tired of being single.</title><content type='html'>nasabi ko na. nagvevent lang.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7742590951716429656-6996963954458748811?l=yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/feeds/6996963954458748811/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7742590951716429656&amp;postID=6996963954458748811' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/6996963954458748811'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/6996963954458748811'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/2008/05/as-stupid-as-it-sounds-but-im-tired-of.html' title='as stupid as it sounds, but i&apos;m tired of being single.'/><author><name>You can call me Cheska--</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02899180873032532818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/SKg5eVIFC0I/AAAAAAAAACc/0kdj-_oOOjw/S220/1_918523893l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7742590951716429656.post-5141489314810556897</id><published>2008-05-14T13:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-14T14:07:45.481-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Breakfast with Rigor Mortis</title><content type='html'>my soul's been longing for the sheets&lt;br /&gt;yet we spend the night with valiant eyes&lt;br /&gt;it's the two of us against the darkness&lt;br /&gt;it's as if the frogs have synthesizers&lt;br /&gt;we laugh about and wonder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's me and you against the glare.&lt;br /&gt;in this ill game to stay awake.&lt;br /&gt;we grow pale. we eat squash fries we mistook&lt;br /&gt;for jaundiced potatoes.&lt;br /&gt;sweet potatoes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;because of these nights my player met death&lt;br /&gt;but bereavement&lt;br /&gt;became an option. we have duties.&lt;br /&gt;we claim to be responsible. but insensitive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sunshine's about to hit the streets in a few minutes.&lt;br /&gt;say goodbye. tonight's another date.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7742590951716429656-5141489314810556897?l=yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/feeds/5141489314810556897/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7742590951716429656&amp;postID=5141489314810556897' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/5141489314810556897'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/5141489314810556897'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/2008/05/breakfast-with-rigor-mortis.html' title='Breakfast with Rigor Mortis'/><author><name>You can call me Cheska--</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02899180873032532818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/SKg5eVIFC0I/AAAAAAAAACc/0kdj-_oOOjw/S220/1_918523893l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7742590951716429656.post-5293680977657229352</id><published>2008-04-08T04:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-08T04:35:31.635-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I Can't Tilt My Head</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/R_tUFYCQK_I/AAAAAAAAABk/9G40YL3d4pY/s1600-h/bella+flores.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186831847175236594" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 179px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 212px" height="212" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/R_tUFYCQK_I/AAAAAAAAABk/9G40YL3d4pY/s200/bella+flores.jpg" width="167" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I'll try to get a photo of Mama to show you guys how she mastered the skill of tilting her head for the camera. The way this actress posed on the left is no match with the way she did it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They can, be mistaken for sisters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peace, Ma. &lt;strong&gt;WALANG MULTUHAN.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To see if I have inherited her talent, I tried to pose in front of the mirror and started to tilt my head. However, I only got a stiffened neck and an aching back. &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/R_tXCYCQLBI/AAAAAAAAAB0/ml_8vFMgyik/s1600-h/yea5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186835094170512402" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 148px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 193px" height="182" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/R_tXCYCQLBI/AAAAAAAAAB0/ml_8vFMgyik/s200/yea5.jpg" width="150" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;This is the closest I got.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/R_tWiICQLAI/AAAAAAAAABs/YOhIImm0NF8/s1600-h/yea5.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/R_tWiICQLAI/AAAAAAAAABs/YOhIImm0NF8/s1600-h/yea5.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/R_tWiICQLAI/AAAAAAAAABs/YOhIImm0NF8/s1600-h/yea5.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/R_tWiICQLAI/AAAAAAAAABs/YOhIImm0NF8/s1600-h/yea5.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7742590951716429656-5293680977657229352?l=yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/feeds/5293680977657229352/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7742590951716429656&amp;postID=5293680977657229352' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/5293680977657229352'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/5293680977657229352'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/2008/04/i-cant-tilt-my-head.html' title='I Can&apos;t Tilt My Head'/><author><name>You can call me Cheska--</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02899180873032532818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/SKg5eVIFC0I/AAAAAAAAACc/0kdj-_oOOjw/S220/1_918523893l.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/R_tUFYCQK_I/AAAAAAAAABk/9G40YL3d4pY/s72-c/bella+flores.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7742590951716429656.post-776206429702578923</id><published>2008-04-07T02:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-07T02:19:46.062-07:00</updated><title type='text'>TO FORGET</title><content type='html'>i must admit that for the past few days you were able to make me smile. it's not everyday that i smile in front of the monitor. but i must admit you did. and to think you're making me admit things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we are strangers. yet we did take steps to get to know each other more. i couldn't blame you if you had my thoughts mistaken for being brutish and unkind. i didn't allow myself to show who i am. i can't find any reason to. especially to a stranger. i mean, what's the point? as if it would matter. we're just mere chatters on cyberspace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;for the past days that you showered me with sweet stupid remarks and point blank criticisms, i developed the yearning of going online just to chat with you. how clingy could i get. as much as i try not to be, i still am. i still mimic the same old ways of emotional attachment, even here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i don't want to play games. that's why i always reacted harshly with each and every joke you throw at me. but with one argument you were able to make me cry. and you decided to end this so-called friendship because you think i am utterly selfish and gobbled up with pride.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i don't mean to be sexist, but i think it's not really proper for men to make girls cry.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7742590951716429656-776206429702578923?l=yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/feeds/776206429702578923/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7742590951716429656&amp;postID=776206429702578923' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/776206429702578923'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/776206429702578923'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/2008/04/to-forget.html' title='TO FORGET'/><author><name>You can call me Cheska--</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02899180873032532818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/SKg5eVIFC0I/AAAAAAAAACc/0kdj-_oOOjw/S220/1_918523893l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7742590951716429656.post-6744222703221872748</id><published>2008-04-06T23:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-06T23:47:54.076-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Goodbye, Moses</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/R_nA7YCQK-I/AAAAAAAAABc/6MThHfzEFGg/s1600-h/Charlton_Heston_Civil_Rights_March_1963.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186388572190551010" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" height="225" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/R_nA7YCQK-I/AAAAAAAAABc/6MThHfzEFGg/s200/Charlton_Heston_Civil_Rights_March_1963.jpg" width="183" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tia and I will be missing one of the few "named" actors we admire. Charlton Heston. He was known for starring in such iconic films including Ben-Hur and The Omega Man. A Hollywood legend, today's audience may not recognize his name at first glance, but a lot sure do wish to acquire his powers in parting the seas-who can ever forget The Ten Commandments?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Despite being a big fan of cult films and teen flicks, I like Charlton Heston. He stood smart, sturdy and handsome. And he overcame the challenges of old age with grace. He didn't smoke, nor did he have other vices, and most of all, he faced success with his feet on the ground.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I remember watching The Ten Commandments some Maundy Thursday several years back. I liked the dialogues between him and Ramses, portrayed by another favorite actor of mine, skinhead Yul Brynner. But Ramses had left a long time ago.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And now it's Moses. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You may not know us, but Tia and I will miss you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7742590951716429656-6744222703221872748?l=yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/feeds/6744222703221872748/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7742590951716429656&amp;postID=6744222703221872748' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/6744222703221872748'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/6744222703221872748'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/2008/04/goodbye-moses.html' title='Goodbye, Moses'/><author><name>You can call me Cheska--</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02899180873032532818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/SKg5eVIFC0I/AAAAAAAAACc/0kdj-_oOOjw/S220/1_918523893l.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/R_nA7YCQK-I/AAAAAAAAABc/6MThHfzEFGg/s72-c/Charlton_Heston_Civil_Rights_March_1963.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7742590951716429656.post-5325993742168145678</id><published>2008-04-05T00:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-05T00:30:55.056-07:00</updated><title type='text'>wag jan.</title><content type='html'>pwede. wag ang puso ko. siguro hindi pako handa. pero wag ang puso ko. wag mong hilingin na mapalapit ako sayo. kasi baka hindi ko mamalayan. umiiyak na pala ko.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7742590951716429656-5325993742168145678?l=yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/feeds/5325993742168145678/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7742590951716429656&amp;postID=5325993742168145678' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/5325993742168145678'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/5325993742168145678'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/2008/04/wag-jan.html' title='wag jan.'/><author><name>You can call me Cheska--</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02899180873032532818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/SKg5eVIFC0I/AAAAAAAAACc/0kdj-_oOOjw/S220/1_918523893l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7742590951716429656.post-339715336790617819</id><published>2008-03-27T04:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-27T04:42:02.120-07:00</updated><title type='text'>remembering the day</title><content type='html'>... i turned 4. i had the best party ever. it was attended by grown-ups.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... i got my first and only pair of roller blades. they taught me how to race with cars.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... i learned how to smoke. i was seven then. no one was around. my first stick was philipp morris.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... i first kissed a guy. he's now a badminton champ. and he's gay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... i graduated from grade school. an overgrown adolescent at 12, i looked pregnant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... i made my first television appearance. i just saw myself as a toddler during a re-run of Lunch Break.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... i met dj. we talked about the proper way to dissect a frog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... i passed the college exams. it was liberating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... i graduated high school. it was uneventful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... meeting my high school crush after five years. he was unperturbed by my presence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... i first had a five. it was unexpectedly cool in some way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... i flunked calculus for the 3rd time. nothing beats that econ tandem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... i chose niel and rochelle over emman. no regrets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... mama died. it's still painful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... i turned 22. i was sleepy the whole day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... i decided to learn the perks of being single. i just found out that i am dyslexic.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7742590951716429656-339715336790617819?l=yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/feeds/339715336790617819/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7742590951716429656&amp;postID=339715336790617819' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/339715336790617819'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/339715336790617819'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/2008/03/remembering-day.html' title='remembering the day'/><author><name>You can call me Cheska--</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02899180873032532818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/SKg5eVIFC0I/AAAAAAAAACc/0kdj-_oOOjw/S220/1_918523893l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7742590951716429656.post-2879124558873839409</id><published>2008-03-26T04:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-26T04:36:02.020-07:00</updated><title type='text'>day of the new wave</title><content type='html'>It was the time when people danced uncontrollably either on the ceiling or in the dark, where music was composed out of synthesizers and hair sprays became the most important hair accessory. Fashion trends were tight flashy leggings paired with leg warmers, shoulder pads and assymetrical open shouldered shirts. Add the stone washed denim jackets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They met up at the popcorn stand at Fiesta Carnival that afternoon. They were supposed to see a movie in Ali Mall but her mom asked her to do the groceries at Rustan's. So, the movie-date immediately transformed into a grocery event, plus a spontaneous late late lunch at Aristocrat. They're both glad little Timmy wasn't with them or else they would've landed at Jollibee. He brought his dad's Corolla. After doing the groceries they raced off to the pre-cosmopolitan vicinity of Ortigas Center, just not to get locked in the traffic jam along Highway 54. Chores are chores. They very well understand that. But of course they have to attend on their own duties, as slightly overaged teenagers, as adventurers, as fools in love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She resides in the old-rich Barrio Kapitolyo. He meanwhile shares the neighborhood with a politician at New Manila. They are residents of the metro's hottest discotheques, and Joloux at Timog is definitely a No-no.  But tonight they are to go to no disco, but to a more exciting trip at the Greenhills Arcade parking lot. The hottest cars, the most popular high-school heartthrobs of their generation will be present, not to mention the big pot of money involved. They are to play drag.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Drag racing's the name of the game. Race for the name, wealth and glory. He is to compete with her ex-boyfriend. He has to win in order to bag her heart. When nightfall came they prepared themselves by first dropping by Petron-Kapitolyo. Soon after, they set the tracks at Ortigas Ave. The spectators, the pompom girls, the organizers, and of course, the ex-boyfriend, are all present, waiting for the game to start.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then the lead girl waved the checkered flag.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His dad's Corolla versus that black Chrysler. The gray smoke covered their eyesight, and the burning rubber kept them deaf. Jaws nearly dropped waiting for whoever will come back first.  Then they heard a familiar sound running towards them. It's him. In his dad's Corolla.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He won her heart for keeps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She was assured. Boys do fall in love.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7742590951716429656-2879124558873839409?l=yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/feeds/2879124558873839409/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7742590951716429656&amp;postID=2879124558873839409' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/2879124558873839409'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/2879124558873839409'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/2008/03/day-of-new-wave.html' title='day of the new wave'/><author><name>You can call me Cheska--</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02899180873032532818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/SKg5eVIFC0I/AAAAAAAAACc/0kdj-_oOOjw/S220/1_918523893l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7742590951716429656.post-4610628915405879983</id><published>2008-03-19T17:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-19T17:32:19.396-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Desiderata and the Total Eclipse of the Sun</title><content type='html'>And he said he's sorry. He always was. The word then became so overused the whole conversation no longer made sense at all. So she chose to break all the strings that held them together. She was mad, frustrated and dumbfounded. She never thought things would reach this height of imbecility.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her feelings for him were more than carnal friendship. She offered him a mother's touch, a best friend's shoulder, and a whore's lip service. Yet upon hearing her heart beat with the words of love and affection, he just took the ill path of killing the untainted lovestruck paradise her feelings have built. He did the best to make her cry with his mean antics. He made her feel sorry for loving him. He made her realize that it's not that he doesn't have feelings for her- it's just he doesn't want to be loved, by her, not by anybody else. He wants to stand on his feet, and only his.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They were friends. Laughing buddies. Teachers of each other's minds. Yet their paths will never meet. He knew he was bitter and the life he chose was the one fast and sweet. She was then left with no other way out but compromise. And despite all the promises she made to herself, she broke down and cried.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whatever feelings of love he had were just enough to suffice his needs. It just so happened that there were some hearts were willing to give him more than enough. And one of them was hers.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7742590951716429656-4610628915405879983?l=yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/feeds/4610628915405879983/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7742590951716429656&amp;postID=4610628915405879983' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/4610628915405879983'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/4610628915405879983'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/2008/03/desiderata-and-total-eclipse-of-sun.html' title='Desiderata and the Total Eclipse of the Sun'/><author><name>You can call me Cheska--</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02899180873032532818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/SKg5eVIFC0I/AAAAAAAAACc/0kdj-_oOOjw/S220/1_918523893l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7742590951716429656.post-24592442896311648</id><published>2008-03-19T17:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-19T17:12:54.527-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/R-Gq8ICQK9I/AAAAAAAAABU/gxPlSDeHc80/s1600-h/yea3.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5179608996378586066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 199px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 153px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="150" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/R-Gq8ICQK9I/AAAAAAAAABU/gxPlSDeHc80/s200/yea3.bmp" width="448" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/R-GqsICQK8I/AAAAAAAAABM/H8lcvs7BMfo/s1600-h/yea2.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5179608721500679106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 201px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 163px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="165" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/R-GqsICQK8I/AAAAAAAAABM/H8lcvs7BMfo/s200/yea2.bmp" width="200" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5179608257644211122" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 171px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="179" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/R-GqRICQK7I/AAAAAAAAABE/EYQl2P4OUxg/s200/yea.JPG" width="200" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; A certified camwhore at 22. Thank God people say I don't look like my age. I look days younger. Yeah right. I said so. So what. It was my birthday last Tuesday. The f*ck do you care anyway. This is my blog. Kidding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7742590951716429656-24592442896311648?l=yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/feeds/24592442896311648/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7742590951716429656&amp;postID=24592442896311648' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/24592442896311648'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/24592442896311648'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/2008/03/certified-camwhore-at-22.html' title=''/><author><name>You can call me Cheska--</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02899180873032532818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/SKg5eVIFC0I/AAAAAAAAACc/0kdj-_oOOjw/S220/1_918523893l.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/R-Gq8ICQK9I/AAAAAAAAABU/gxPlSDeHc80/s72-c/yea3.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7742590951716429656.post-2770515098086527390</id><published>2008-03-10T22:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-10T23:00:47.993-07:00</updated><title type='text'>kaarawan</title><content type='html'>masaya tayo tuwing sasapit ang araw na ito.&lt;br /&gt;ika'y nasa piling ng mga kaibigan, may munting piging&lt;br /&gt;at ako'y darating, upang bumati, upang makikain.&lt;br /&gt;ipagmamalaki mo ang isa na namang taong haharapin ng buong lakas&lt;br /&gt;ang matapang na diwa, puso at kaluluwa.&lt;br /&gt;mga pangarap na nanantiling matayog at puno ng pag-asa.&lt;br /&gt;puno ang hangin ng iyong mga halakhak, di alintana ang usok ng lakampana.&lt;br /&gt;pero ang lahat ay lumilipas.&lt;br /&gt;ngayo'y malayo ka na sa piling ko.&lt;br /&gt;ika'y nasa alapaap. maligaya. malayo sa mga pag-aalala.&lt;br /&gt;pero ang iyong kaarawan ay mananatiling mahalaga sa aking gunita.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ako'y nangungulila sa iyong pag-aaruga.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7742590951716429656-2770515098086527390?l=yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/feeds/2770515098086527390/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7742590951716429656&amp;postID=2770515098086527390' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/2770515098086527390'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/2770515098086527390'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/2008/03/kaarawan.html' title='kaarawan'/><author><name>You can call me Cheska--</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02899180873032532818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/SKg5eVIFC0I/AAAAAAAAACc/0kdj-_oOOjw/S220/1_918523893l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7742590951716429656.post-702048240056688726</id><published>2008-02-22T00:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-22T01:12:24.076-08:00</updated><title type='text'>valentine's day 2008</title><content type='html'>I was pretty much busy last Valentine's Day. Looking back at the past days I've been ranting about not having a plan for 214, only to find out that the special day would be in fact a day of love and bonding. On that day I felt loved, wanted, needed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That was the day she was interred. A cloudy morning it was, and I did my best to entertain some of the last friends who came to visit the wake. Tia was just keeping herself strong, my mom was roaming around fixing stuff, while I went to town and bought flowers. I chose the most colorful ones as she was always fond of colors and bright effects. Later that day I went to shop for a shirt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Only a few people came to the mass. Not even the closest ones were there. But I didn't care, for the only thing that mattered was for her to receive the last mortal blessings given by our faith. I looked at her beyond the glass and noticed that she looked the same, still with the natural blush, just like a sleeping child. She retained that stern image, but I couldn't help but smile for her natural beauty remained intact.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wrote her a poem. It was about a star who once spread light on earth. I've always believed that when we die, we become stars in the sky-that we are actually stars who come to earth and shine. That after many moons we go back home in the universe to give way for new stars. She was once a star sent by the heavens, to shine on earth in her own simple ways. After reaching the diamonds, the heavens sent for her to come back home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then came the time for her to be interred. After a few hours we found her in white ashes, as her physical structure returned to its prime composition. Yet I still can't believe she was gone, totally gone from our lives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was blank. I still am, just like Tia. I didn't want to mourn but I can't help doing so. But I know she's already safe and sound and happy and back to her most beautiful state: a star.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7742590951716429656-702048240056688726?l=yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/feeds/702048240056688726/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7742590951716429656&amp;postID=702048240056688726' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/702048240056688726'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/702048240056688726'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/2008/02/valentines-day-2008.html' title='valentine&apos;s day 2008'/><author><name>You can call me Cheska--</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02899180873032532818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/SKg5eVIFC0I/AAAAAAAAACc/0kdj-_oOOjw/S220/1_918523893l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7742590951716429656.post-4521743444720365165</id><published>2008-02-21T17:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-21T17:40:39.864-08:00</updated><title type='text'>alamat ng isang tala</title><content type='html'>ikaw ay tala na nagmula sa uniberso&lt;br /&gt;hulog na langit upang magbigay liwanag sa lupa&lt;br /&gt;iyong tinuklas ang misteryo ng sansinukuban&lt;br /&gt;at nagdilig ng ngiti sa mundong tuyot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sigwa ang sumalubong sa iyong pagdating&lt;br /&gt;ngunit hinarap mo ito ng buong tapang&lt;br /&gt;ang mga panganib ay di mo sinukuan&lt;br /&gt;at sa halip ang pag-asa ay yumabong&lt;br /&gt;sa iyong isip, sa iyong puso, sa iyong kaluluwa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sa bawat na araw na magdaan&lt;br /&gt;ikaw ay nagmahal, lumaban, nasaktan&lt;br /&gt;naipagbuklod ang mga nakakalat na diwa&lt;br /&gt;iyong ibinahagi ang pag-ibig ng walang pag-iimbot&lt;br /&gt;kahit sa huli iyo lamang nadama ang sakit ng pag-iisa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ngunit ang bawat epiko ay may katapusan.&lt;br /&gt;minsan nilisan mo ang kalikasan at bumalik sa langit na pinagmulan&lt;br /&gt;upang maging isang tala, sa iyong tunay na tahanan.&lt;br /&gt;minsan kang naging gabay na liwanag dito sa lupa&lt;br /&gt;ngunit ang iyong init ay patuloy na mag-aalab sa aming puso't diwa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ikaw ang alamat. ang alamat ng isang tala.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I always look up at the night sky hoping to see your eyes twinkle at me. I still can't believe you're gone. The past few days have been hard for me, and I've been longing for your embrace for it kept me safe and calm. I will miss you forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Felipa C. Esperas&lt;br /&gt;1932-2008&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7742590951716429656-4521743444720365165?l=yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/feeds/4521743444720365165/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7742590951716429656&amp;postID=4521743444720365165' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/4521743444720365165'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/4521743444720365165'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/2008/02/alamat-ng-isang-tala.html' title='alamat ng isang tala'/><author><name>You can call me Cheska--</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02899180873032532818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/SKg5eVIFC0I/AAAAAAAAACc/0kdj-_oOOjw/S220/1_918523893l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7742590951716429656.post-5670543685808847613</id><published>2008-02-03T04:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-03T04:30:30.965-08:00</updated><title type='text'>wala akong plano sa 214. bigyan ninyo ko ng plano.</title><content type='html'>That served as my YM status message since January 29. Valentine's is a barely two weeks away that time and as the clock ticks so fast I now find myself writing this post while watching a funny primetime gag show. Anyway, given that I'm starting to rant about my 'dateless' Valentine's Day as early as the last week of January, a concerned friend came to the rescue and offered me an answer to my wish. He gave me a plan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ria. Tignan mo to." He said, and gave me a link. I then did what he said and clicked on the link.&lt;br /&gt;"Ano to?" I asked, slightly confused. "Blueprint ng bahay?"&lt;br /&gt;"Yep. Ano pa ba?" He placed a smiley who's brow is raised.&lt;br /&gt;"Aanhin ko to?"&lt;br /&gt;Silence. It took a while before he replied.&lt;br /&gt;"Pakiayos naman. Magaling ka naman sa interior design e. Deadline nyan sa 14."&lt;br /&gt;"Ok ka lang? Wala akong kinalaman diyan no. Hindi ako artistic." I refused his favor.&lt;br /&gt;"Ria naman e. Ayan binibigyan ka na nga ng plano tapos ikaw tong tatanggi."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Indeed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7742590951716429656-5670543685808847613?l=yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/feeds/5670543685808847613/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7742590951716429656&amp;postID=5670543685808847613' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/5670543685808847613'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/5670543685808847613'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/2008/02/wala-akong-plano-sa-214-bigyan-ninyo-ko.html' title='wala akong plano sa 214. bigyan ninyo ko ng plano.'/><author><name>You can call me Cheska--</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02899180873032532818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/SKg5eVIFC0I/AAAAAAAAACc/0kdj-_oOOjw/S220/1_918523893l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7742590951716429656.post-3709379129210589822</id><published>2008-02-01T12:50:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-01T12:54:03.743-08:00</updated><title type='text'>new hair</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/R6OGS4QcRHI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gJ_pYOKPk7Q/s1600-h/right.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5162117256793834610" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/R6OGS4QcRHI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gJ_pYOKPk7Q/s400/right.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Hi. This is me at 4am on the 2nd day of February 2008. New hair, old me. Just right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7742590951716429656-3709379129210589822?l=yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/feeds/3709379129210589822/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7742590951716429656&amp;postID=3709379129210589822' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/3709379129210589822'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/3709379129210589822'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/2008/02/new-hair.html' title='new hair'/><author><name>You can call me Cheska--</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02899180873032532818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/SKg5eVIFC0I/AAAAAAAAACc/0kdj-_oOOjw/S220/1_918523893l.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/R6OGS4QcRHI/AAAAAAAAAAc/gJ_pYOKPk7Q/s72-c/right.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7742590951716429656.post-8942578829187591208</id><published>2008-01-31T15:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-31T16:36:10.189-08:00</updated><title type='text'>How Important is My Dream</title><content type='html'>I am turning 22 in less than 2 months. Even though I haven't finished my studies yet I can say that I am already comptetent enough to get a good, decent job other college graduates wish to acquire. At 21 I have already been into call center work, and after exhausting my talents and skills on strangers who do not know a little about who I am, I then came to realize some things which I know would be of great significance as I mold my future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Upon resigning from my last offic-work last September, I decided to be a freelance writer for SEO clients. Indeed it was a tough decision, because I would therefore be obliged to make sudden lifestyle changes. First, the flow of my income would no longer be regular like before. Second, I would be responsible for my time as I can now play God with my daily activities. Third, I am finally free. Because of this so-called freedom, I then packed my things and settled for an adventure, something I haven't done yet for a long time. Without even thinking, I took a bus one cloudy afternoon and traveled 250 kilometers North of Manila. To Baguio.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In Baguio I was able to reunite with my relatives, enjoy the climate as well as the tourist destinations. I also took time to reflect on the things that I want and don't want to do, my plans, my resolutions, my feelings and mindset. My folks know that I am bestowed with a good set of qualities which often make cousins envious, little do they know that I feel the same way towards them, for the fact that they are brought up in a loving and caring family environment, something I always wished for. Thus my folks keep on nagging me to get a good job, a practical one, some decent job that can make financially stable. The past three months have been indeed tough for me and my wallet, and if not for a couple of true friends I would have had experienced the lonliest holiday season ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps I do possess a stubborn heart, for despite this I chose to stand by my decision and not let go of it. Many may not understand it but I have found my dream. I want to be a writer. Of course not just a technical writer like what I am doing now for a living, but I want to achieve more. I want to touch people's hearts through my writings. Some say I'm a good poet, a good essayist, an amusing storyteller. I want to do better in the field that I chose, and hopefully become one of the best, because I know this is where my heart belongs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to be locked up in a company uniform, or be chained in an office doing the same routine everyday, in exchange of monetary benefits. Money is important, I know, but there are other things in life which I wish to get, none of them can be bought by money. An old friend whom I met recently shared about the lives of some of our former schoolmates, especially about their success stories in their jobs, either working in call centers or settling abroad. Now they have top-of-the-line phones, complete set of appliances, fully stuffed bank accounts and have climbed into a higher social status. I on the other hand am still frolicking around places, not knowing where to go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I admit I do get green with envy sometimes, but I always remind myself that each and every person has his own set of priorities, and I know what mine are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There were times that I find myself walking for miles in the dusty roads in the mountains, only with a few bucks in hand. The path I took is indeed winding, but I believe that upon reaching the destination is my pot of gold. I am currently on a struggle, but I feel that success is just around the corner, waiting for me to find it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7742590951716429656-8942578829187591208?l=yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/feeds/8942578829187591208/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7742590951716429656&amp;postID=8942578829187591208' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/8942578829187591208'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/8942578829187591208'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/2008/01/how-important-is-my-dream.html' title='How Important is My Dream'/><author><name>You can call me Cheska--</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02899180873032532818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/SKg5eVIFC0I/AAAAAAAAACc/0kdj-_oOOjw/S220/1_918523893l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7742590951716429656.post-9052849821851849913</id><published>2008-01-30T21:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-30T23:26:06.396-08:00</updated><title type='text'>hari ng sablay</title><content type='html'>My cellphone went beep beep last night while I was making chitchat with friends over at mIRC. Shempre I checked on my phone and saw that an old friend texted me saying finally makakagraduate na siya. Thank goodness naman noh, like matapos ang over 8 years at the one same course ay makakagraduate na siya. I'm glad to hear that he's about to graduate, pero after three seconds ay bigla niya kong binagsakan ng langit at lupa after reminding me kung kelan naman ako ggraduate. 'Saksakin kaya kita para di ka makagraduate?!!!'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pwede ba Edmonton. Ikaw bida dito. Narrator lang ako.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's meet my friend Edmonton. Ahead siya sakin ng 2 years so pagpasok ko sa university ay third year na siya. Sa PE ko siya naging classmate at for one whole sem ginawa naming talking class ang aming walking class. Molecular Biology and Biotechnology ang kanyang course samantalang ako ay (ehem ehem secret!). Valedictorian siya doon sa high school nila sa isang liblib na baryo sa Abucay at siya lang ang kaisa-isang UPCAT passer mula sa batch nila (not to mention sa buong kasaysayan ng kanilang paaralan). Kinuha daw niya ang MBB dahil wis daw niya knows kung anong course to. Pagtapak daw nya ng third year e chaka lang niya napagtantong hinuhukay na pala niya ang kanyang sariling libingan. Hehe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After ang aming maliligayang araw sa walking class ay nanatili kaming close ni Edmonton. Magkikita para kumain, magyosi at paminsan-minsan uminom. Madami siyang drama sa buhay tulad ko. Hehe. At lalo pa itong nadagdagan nang siya'y tumapak ng 5th year sa kanyang 4-year course.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Una ay iyong magkagusto siya kay Atom. Pucha, lahat naman halos may crush kay Atom e. Pero duuuyy... patay na patay itong kaibigan ko kay Atom. Dahil kay Atom ay naging active siya sa mga orgs, events at kung anu-ano pang social gatherings kung kaya't napabayaan niya ang kanyang longtime girlfriend na si Anna. Nung nakipagbreak sa kanya si Anna eh saka lang nya napansin na siya'y nagttransform na pala. Edmonton, day. Bading ka na.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tulad ng ibang late bloomers na bading ay sumailalim sa 'denial stage' tong si bakla. Pero kalaunan ay hindi rin niya napigilan ang pagtibok ng kanyang puso kung kaya't hinarap niya ang pagiging isang bading. Wala namang kaso sa mga friends niya e. Ayos lang. At naging best friends pa sila ni Anna. Hehe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ang pangalawa niyang drama ay ang kanyang pag-aaral. Dahil nga dun sa kanyang metamorphosis ay naapektuhan ang kanyang acads. Bagsak dito, bagsak dun. Retake, remove, summer. Hayan. Dahil rin sa kakulangan sa pera ay kinailangan niyang matrabaho, at tulad ng nakararaming mga kabataan sa aming henerasyon, siya ay pumasok sa isang call center (call senner) bilang isang ahente ng car parts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pero hindi lahat ng drama sa buhay ni Edmonton ay malungkot. Aba, ang lola mo, hindi inakalang matatagpuan ang tunay na pag-ibig sa call center na yun. Isang gabi habang umiinom ng kape sa pantry ay nakilala niya si PJ, isang cute na bagets na nagttrabaho dun bilang janitor. Hehe. Kebs naman sa social status at naging sila eventually. Ang mahalaga lang naman ay mahal nila ang isa't isa, and of course, yummy si PJ! Dennis Trillo look alike daw ba! (siko nga lang.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Heto nga. Matapos ng limang taon. Single na ulet si Edmonton at muli silang nagsstart over ng ex niyang si Anna. Nakabuntis daw kasi si PJ ng wala sa oras e. Bago matanggap ni Edmonton yung nangyari ay naglaslas eklat muna siya, something like a telenovela dahil di niya keri ung katarantaduhan ng jowa niya. But like any other story, nakarecover si bakla. Kaya starting over na naman and buti naman at makakagradweyt na.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Day, finally makakapagtapos nako.' Text niya sakin. 'Matapos ang walong taon.'&lt;br /&gt;'Oo nga bakla. Finally. Matapos ang mga kagagahan mo, ikaw na talaga ang hari ng sablay.' reply ko.&lt;br /&gt;'Inggit ka lang kasi may sablay nako. Ikaw hanggang pangarap parin. Hehe.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hindi nako nagreply. Kaimbyernang baklang to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hehe.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7742590951716429656-9052849821851849913?l=yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/feeds/9052849821851849913/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7742590951716429656&amp;postID=9052849821851849913' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/9052849821851849913'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/9052849821851849913'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/2008/01/hari-ng-sablay.html' title='hari ng sablay'/><author><name>You can call me Cheska--</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02899180873032532818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/SKg5eVIFC0I/AAAAAAAAACc/0kdj-_oOOjw/S220/1_918523893l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7742590951716429656.post-40378284690168963</id><published>2008-01-30T10:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-30T10:30:22.074-08:00</updated><title type='text'>to be 'wanted' is something superficial</title><content type='html'>01[14:45] &lt;geekgoddess&gt; im single. unnoticed.&lt;br /&gt;[14:46] &lt;m30&gt; no one takes u seriously?&lt;br /&gt;[14:46] &lt;m30&gt; huh? dude when u get more dick ppl will notice u dapat&lt;br /&gt;01[14:46] &lt;geekgoddess&gt; guys never saw me as a girlfriend material from the very start.&lt;br /&gt;[14:48] &lt;m30&gt; it depends naman on the guy who looks&lt;br /&gt;[14:48] &lt;m30&gt; its not the same for all guys&lt;br /&gt;[14:49] &lt;m30&gt; so relax, ur 21, enjoy ka pa, just take it easy with the dildos and virators ha&lt;br /&gt;[14:49] &lt;m30&gt; gf material is a myth&lt;br /&gt;01[14:50] &lt;geekgoddess&gt; guys see me to the extent of a best friend or sister.&lt;br /&gt;01[14:50] &lt;geekgoddess&gt; the best bud they can have.&lt;br /&gt;[14:50] &lt;m30&gt; tapos they bone u? thats unfair!&lt;br /&gt;01[14:50] &lt;geekgoddess&gt; but to commit.&lt;br /&gt;[14:50] &lt;m30&gt; dude commitment should be the last thing in ur mind&lt;br /&gt;01[14:51] &lt;geekgoddess&gt; to start a romantic relationship with is not their thing with me.[14:51] &lt;m30&gt; i wonder&lt;br /&gt;[14:51] &lt;m30&gt; can i see.... ano friendster mo&lt;br /&gt;01[14:51] &lt;geekgoddess&gt; every girl wants security and commitment. im not exception to that.&lt;br /&gt;01[14:51] &lt;geekgoddess&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.friendster.com/!@#$%"&gt;www.friendster.com/!@#$%&lt;/a&gt;^&amp;amp;*()&lt;br /&gt;[14:53] &lt;m30&gt; ur chinese?&lt;br /&gt;01[14:53] &lt;geekgoddess&gt; no.&lt;br /&gt;01[14:53] &lt;geekgoddess&gt; do i look chinese?&lt;br /&gt;[14:53] &lt;m30&gt; singkit eh&lt;br /&gt;01[14:53] &lt;geekgoddess&gt; haha.&lt;br /&gt;[14:53] &lt;m30&gt; ok naman ha&lt;br /&gt;01[14:53] &lt;geekgoddess&gt; ewan ko.&lt;br /&gt;[14:53] &lt;m30&gt; ur not fat&lt;br /&gt;01[14:53] &lt;geekgoddess&gt; i am kaya.&lt;br /&gt;[14:53] &lt;m30&gt; arte mo&lt;br /&gt;[14:54] &lt;m30&gt; super payat mo kaya&lt;br /&gt;01[14:54] &lt;geekgoddess&gt; sino bang pic ang tinitignan mo jan?&lt;br /&gt;01[14:54] &lt;geekgoddess&gt; its all about the angle.&lt;br /&gt;01[14:54] &lt;geekgoddess&gt; meron jan sa submitted photos.&lt;br /&gt;[14:54] &lt;m30&gt; whats ur height&lt;br /&gt;01[14:55] &lt;geekgoddess&gt; 5'4&lt;br /&gt;[14:55] &lt;m30&gt; weight&lt;br /&gt;01[14:55] &lt;geekgoddess&gt; secret natin to ha.&lt;br /&gt;01[14:55] &lt;geekgoddess&gt; 170 lbs ma.&lt;br /&gt;01[14:55] &lt;geekgoddess&gt; na.&lt;br /&gt;[14:55] &lt;m30&gt; opo&lt;br /&gt;[14:55] &lt;m30&gt; owsssss&lt;br /&gt;01[14:55] &lt;geekgoddess&gt; oo nga.&lt;br /&gt;01[14:55] &lt;geekgoddess&gt; fluctuating&lt;br /&gt;[14:55] &lt;m30&gt; sa pic nato ur like 110&lt;br /&gt;[14:55] &lt;m30&gt; super laki siguro ng butt mo&lt;br /&gt;01[14:56] &lt;geekgoddess&gt; idagdag mo na un tummy&lt;br /&gt;01[14:56] &lt;geekgoddess&gt; and arms&lt;br /&gt;01[14:56] &lt;geekgoddess&gt; and thighs&lt;br /&gt;01[14:56] &lt;geekgoddess&gt; lahat na.&lt;br /&gt;01[14:56] &lt;geekgoddess&gt; hehe&lt;br /&gt;01[14:56] &lt;geekgoddess&gt; anyway&lt;br /&gt;01[14:57] &lt;geekgoddess&gt; i can be a man's whore.best friend. sister. mother.&lt;br /&gt;[14:57] &lt;m30&gt; ok game plan&lt;br /&gt;01[14:57] &lt;geekgoddess&gt; but never a girlfriend.&lt;br /&gt;[14:57] &lt;m30&gt; burn at least 50 lbs for ur height&lt;br /&gt;01[14:57] &lt;geekgoddess&gt; 50 lbs?&lt;br /&gt;[14:57] &lt;m30&gt; yes&lt;br /&gt;14:57] &lt;m30&gt; 120 is ok for ur height&lt;br /&gt;01[14:57] &lt;geekgoddess&gt; errr.can i do it in a month?&lt;br /&gt;[14:57] &lt;m30&gt; mga 2 months yan&lt;br /&gt;[14:57] &lt;m30&gt; pero todo work out yan&lt;br /&gt;01[14:57] &lt;geekgoddess&gt; ok. so by april.&lt;br /&gt;[14:58] &lt;m30&gt; as in hit the treads daily&lt;br /&gt;[14:58] &lt;m30&gt; tapos no rice&lt;br /&gt;[14:58] &lt;m30&gt; no lunch&lt;br /&gt;[14:58] &lt;m30&gt; bfast dinner ka lang&lt;br /&gt;01[14:58] &lt;geekgoddess&gt; ok.&lt;br /&gt;[14:59] &lt;m30&gt; by April ull fit into a nice 2 piece and ull get the quality guys u want&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;right.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7742590951716429656-40378284690168963?l=yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/feeds/40378284690168963/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7742590951716429656&amp;postID=40378284690168963' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/40378284690168963'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/40378284690168963'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/2008/01/to-be-wanted-is-something-superficial.html' title='to be &apos;wanted&apos; is something superficial'/><author><name>You can call me Cheska--</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02899180873032532818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/SKg5eVIFC0I/AAAAAAAAACc/0kdj-_oOOjw/S220/1_918523893l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7742590951716429656.post-6208657695379766547</id><published>2008-01-24T22:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-24T23:39:19.808-08:00</updated><title type='text'>the chef</title><content type='html'>He knew she was his destiny. He was only waiting for the right time for their paths to finally cross.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All she saw was his hands, for it was only a small opening that allowed them to be together for some breathing moments. But she never noticed his existence. Just his works.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chel always dreamt of having a chef for a boyfriend. She believed her heart would be at last fulfilled by a man whose love would reach her appetite. She isn't too choosy though, but of course like any other girl she carries her own ideals of a prince charming, and hers was that of a chef. Fate however was not as kind as she expected. It may have had her saved from all the pains of a broken heart, but at the same time it has deprived her of the opportunity to experience the romance of a young heart. But she took her fate with a smile and not as a burden, as she was bestowed with the ability to give a bright smile that shines like the sun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And its rays captured his frost bitten heart. After grieving for a myriad of losses which seemed to have robbed him of the strength to live, he thus chose to live in the soot and darkness of the kitchen, exerting his talents on a myriad of dishes that satisfied the hunger of strangers. He chose to remain a shadow, until that one fateful day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She was a regular customer at the cafeteria. Chel always craved for pesto, and she loved the way it is prepared in that place, the university canteen. At first he just kept on receiving an order of that said food at exactly 3:07 pm every Friday, but on that fateful day he managed to get a glance of who that customer was. It was her. Chel. He fell in love at first sight, for some reason imposed by an unseen force set by nature. Since then he prepared the best pesto dish he can ever cook. He always made it with pure love and desire, hoping one day that taste would reach her heart and hear his call.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He didn't know he was already taking the first steps to success. Chel was beginning to fall for the taste and her her heart starts to beat with desire on each and every twirl of her fork. He on the other hand started to draw back, upon learning that they are worlds apart. She was the unversity's top student, just waiting for the semester to end so that she can enroll for law school. He meanwhile was a cook, denied of the chance to seek a life of convenience, forbidden of the right to seek erudition. All he can do is write his name. And cook.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because of this he asked for a friend's help to write him a resignation letter, so as his feelings of  brurning love and desire would not reach his nerves and eventually kill him. Chel meanwhile started looking for his dishes, only to find out that he already left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saddened, she decided to go ride a bus back to her hometown, hoping to get some warm hug from her ever-loving parents. While waiting for the bus she sat on a bench, and looked at her watch. It's 3:07 pm, the usual time she goes to the cafeteria and devour on her pesto. She didn't notice that at the exact same time someone sat on the same bench and gave off a sad sigh. His bittersweet whisper reached her heart like the speed of light after hearing his voice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'I'm supposed to prepare her pesto.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She looked at him and recognized his hands. The hands she used to see serving her favorite dish. He was mesmerized. He was sitting next to her, hearing her heart beat so loud it was the only thing he could hear at that bustling afternoon traffic jam. He surrendered all his qualms to the forces of nature. He gave off a smile. He made up his mind to become the best for the only girl he has chosen to love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His smile cleared all her gray matter ideas on romance. It was him, who satisfied her appetite, who made her heart finally beat with love. At that exact moment she knew her search was over. It was him, the man who completed the longing not only of her taste buds but of her longing for everlasting love.  At that exact moment their lives have started anew, together, ready for the challenges the world has to bring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And they lived happily ever after.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7742590951716429656-6208657695379766547?l=yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/feeds/6208657695379766547/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7742590951716429656&amp;postID=6208657695379766547' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/6208657695379766547'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/6208657695379766547'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/2008/01/chef.html' title='the chef'/><author><name>You can call me Cheska--</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02899180873032532818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/SKg5eVIFC0I/AAAAAAAAACc/0kdj-_oOOjw/S220/1_918523893l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7742590951716429656.post-4067463562518330127</id><published>2008-01-24T10:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-24T11:00:08.483-08:00</updated><title type='text'>untitled prototype 2 (rewritten)</title><content type='html'>This story was originally written in April 2007, but unfortunately I can't find the original manuscript so I have to retype everything all over again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was 10 past midnight, and the two girls were lying in the middle of the street gazing at the stars. Drunk were they, having finished two six-packs of San Miguel Pale Pilsen and four bottles of Cerveza Negra. Indeed they have become beer lovers after learning how to love the drink's bitterness in the span of five years. They started drinking back during their freshman days. Here they were now, drunk, cheeks blushing with intoxication.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'What would be like when we die?' She asked her friend while they were on the asphalt road. 'I bet we will become stars in the sky.'&lt;br /&gt;'Shut up.' The friend retorted. She then faced her and wrapped her arms around her friend, just like a little girl to her stuffed toy. 'Try to think about happy things when you're drunk.'&lt;br /&gt;'I'm not drunk. You are.' The girl talked back, without looking at her. 'I'm not drunk. I'm broken.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There came silence. Her friend just hugged her tight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'I'm sorry.' Her friend said, trying to hide her sobs. 'But my heart screams for his name too.'&lt;br /&gt;'And he chose you.' she responded emotionlessly. 'Each living soul is led to follow his heart, in exchange of eternal bliss. I can't blame you, nor can I do the same to him.'&lt;br /&gt;'You know I love you. You're my first ever friend in school. You're more than a sister to me. And you know that.' She remained to hug her even more. 'I know I've hurt you.'&lt;br /&gt;'We are all entitled to get hurt at one time or another, by whoever person. Don't mind me. Follow your heart.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was silence, once again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her phone then rang, and she read the message in it. 'Hey, it's time for us to go. I've got an appointment early in the morning.' She got up and took her things. Her friend followed and hence after a few more walks they found a cab and rode to their homes. When she got home she sulked weak on a chair, her tears overflowing from her eyes. She has thus forbade herself from loving him. She once believed he was her destiny, the one person finally meant for her. But everything was just an illusion: the nearly carbon copied friendster profiles, their love for Kula Shaker and Beck's Loser, his Goldilocks curls, the laughter and the bottles of beer. He instead pursued her best friend, her one and only friend. And despite the willpower to stay strong and apathetic, she felt robbed, abandoned, broken. She loved him. And she loves him still.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Earlier that day she sent him a message and asked to accompany her for an early morning swim at the nearby park.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Ok. I'll fetch you at 530AM.' That was the message she received at almost half past  midnight.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7742590951716429656-4067463562518330127?l=yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/feeds/4067463562518330127/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7742590951716429656&amp;postID=4067463562518330127' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/4067463562518330127'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/4067463562518330127'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/2008/01/untitled-prototype-2-rewritten.html' title='untitled prototype 2 (rewritten)'/><author><name>You can call me Cheska--</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02899180873032532818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/SKg5eVIFC0I/AAAAAAAAACc/0kdj-_oOOjw/S220/1_918523893l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7742590951716429656.post-2389209370700527565</id><published>2008-01-23T23:39:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-23T23:55:06.660-08:00</updated><title type='text'>the cereal killers</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/R5hA7IQcRGI/AAAAAAAAAAU/7OCTFmA0RrQ/s1600-h/cereal+killers.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5158944757725807714" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/R5hA7IQcRGI/AAAAAAAAAAU/7OCTFmA0RrQ/s400/cereal+killers.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Meet my three lovely cousins, Aliyah, Jaja and Tintin. They may seem to be three normal little girls in this photograph, but when their folks are not around, they transform into beasts that devour our cupboards. They become CEREAL KILLERS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It all started with Jaja. When she was younger, she used to spend afternoons in our house in Pasig, and since our aunt is not the type of a doting house person, she instead feeds my cousin a bowl of instant oatmeal. Jaja instantly liked the oatmeal, and almost every afternoon she comes to our place just to have a daily bowl of it. Because of this her mom and dad began to allot a portion of their grocery budget to satisfy her urges for cereals.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then came Tintin, and Aliyah. Tintin's already four, while Aliyah's two. During this time their mom went to Dubai to work as a customs' executive, and because of this they began to receive packages from the Middle East. Inside the balikbayan boxes are tons of canned goods, and of course, boxes of Koko Pops, Koko Krunch, Kellogg's Cornflakes and the like. For an average family, this supply of cereals would last for around a month if consumed on a daily, every breakfast basis. But these girls are different. One Sunday morning a week after the balikbayan box was delivered, their dad woke the whole neighborhood with screams saying that their cereals are missing from the cupboard! They were like, stolen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He confronted the maid and asked her about the missing breakfast cereals. But the maid only gave him a stark, poker faced stare and her eyes pointed him to Jaja's room. There he saw the girls, catatonic watching a weekend cartoon show, each with a bowl in their hands.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Kuya, yan na po yung huling box ng Koko Pops.' the maid said. 'Ginagawa nilang chichirya e.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My uncle then sent his wife an email saying that their girls have become killers. Cereal Killers.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7742590951716429656-2389209370700527565?l=yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/feeds/2389209370700527565/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7742590951716429656&amp;postID=2389209370700527565' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/2389209370700527565'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/2389209370700527565'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/2008/01/cereal-killers.html' title='the cereal killers'/><author><name>You can call me Cheska--</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02899180873032532818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/SKg5eVIFC0I/AAAAAAAAACc/0kdj-_oOOjw/S220/1_918523893l.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/R5hA7IQcRGI/AAAAAAAAAAU/7OCTFmA0RrQ/s72-c/cereal+killers.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7742590951716429656.post-4526196121352713617</id><published>2008-01-23T01:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-23T01:27:24.835-08:00</updated><title type='text'>untitled prototype</title><content type='html'>The humming of the birds woke her up early at dawn. The sun hasn't risen yet, and for the rare times she saw the sunrise, today she felt a different breeze chill down her spine. She noticed her phone ringing. It was him. She answered the call and his monotonous, emotionless voice informed her that he's outside, waiting for her to come out. She took her things, brushed her hair, and went outside. His car was fuming, as he was, annoyed with her unnecessary favor of going for an early morning swim at a nearby pool. They both know that she has cultured a natural poison in her abdomen, and it has already diffused to the various parts of her body. What he couldn't understand was despite all the water intake that's supposed to be the cure to her poisoning, she rather chose to let it spread and slowly burn the life out of her. Yet he has already resigned from pursuading her to see the brighter side of things. She chose to believe that she is poisoned, he sighed. Even though everything is all in her mind.  They all knew she bled for a seriously injured heart. May the causes be romantic, platonic and/or familial, the bottom line was, she took everything unto herself. He despised her depression because he knows she knew better. He despised her even more for creating a force field that prevented everybody, including him, from taking her out of the dark. He loathed her resignation from fighting for her principles, for not allowing him to see her real soul, whose remnants could only be traced in the testimonials of her friends who were once witnesses of her bravery and courage in the midst of storms. While driving to the pool, he concluded that he simply hates her guts, and that after this one last favor, he'd disappear from her life so she could start living normal again.  The pool glimmered as the sun slowly rose. Her eyes, though a little sleepy, were delighted to see the inviting waters for her to plunge in. She looked at him and smiled, while at the same time she took of her clothes. She was ready for a dive, her swimsuit made her look like a stranger to his eyes. It was the first time he saw her in that outfit, and he admits he was struck. He took off his own clothes as well, leaving the just his boxers. She took his hand and together, they took a dive down the pool.  Her eyes were open, still smiling at him. He squeezed her hand tight, reminding her of his plea: see the light. She seem to have understood as she noticed the rays of the sun reaching the deeper ends of the pool. She caught sight of his eyes again, this time trying to say a mingling of thanks and apologies. Then she let go of his grip. He froze in suspended animation a few feet below the water's surface as he witnessed her slowly submerge in the 15 feet pool. Suddenly he remembered the chilling fact that she could barely swim. He dove down after her but he was seconds too late. Her body started to float back, this time, lifeless.  He sought for help, his reflexes reaching for his phone in automation. But rather he saw a message which seemed to say that everything was all planned out. "You always tell me not to come undone. I didn't. You came. I'm now complete."  He lost her. His heart wept in silence for despite all the rage and hatred, it was only then that he was able to admit she conquered his heart from the very start.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7742590951716429656-4526196121352713617?l=yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/feeds/4526196121352713617/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7742590951716429656&amp;postID=4526196121352713617' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/4526196121352713617'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/4526196121352713617'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/2008/01/untitled-prototype.html' title='untitled prototype'/><author><name>You can call me Cheska--</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02899180873032532818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/SKg5eVIFC0I/AAAAAAAAACc/0kdj-_oOOjw/S220/1_918523893l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7742590951716429656.post-6574682269237780925</id><published>2008-01-19T00:21:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-19T00:35:53.868-08:00</updated><title type='text'>decemberfest!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/R5G2MJpvnFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Y44eX0XyZ5g/s1600-h/drunken+master.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5157103368181619794" style="CURSOR: hand" height="379" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/R5G2MJpvnFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Y44eX0XyZ5g/s400/drunken+master.jpg" width="182" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Christmas was more like Oktoberfest for me, with free-flowing beer and all other stuff present to make me nothing but wasted. Thus, a stolen shot.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7742590951716429656-6574682269237780925?l=yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/feeds/6574682269237780925/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7742590951716429656&amp;postID=6574682269237780925' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/6574682269237780925'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/6574682269237780925'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/2008/01/decemberfest.html' title='decemberfest!'/><author><name>You can call me Cheska--</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02899180873032532818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/SKg5eVIFC0I/AAAAAAAAACc/0kdj-_oOOjw/S220/1_918523893l.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/R5G2MJpvnFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Y44eX0XyZ5g/s72-c/drunken+master.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7742590951716429656.post-4595315870732472460</id><published>2008-01-19T00:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-19T00:37:18.430-08:00</updated><title type='text'>for a guy who calls himself eric.</title><content type='html'>the pain will remain in my heart&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's been quite a while since you left&lt;br /&gt;my heart has then learned a bit&lt;br /&gt;without you life has been difficult&lt;br /&gt;but i knew i had to move on&lt;br /&gt;all on my own&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yet i know the pain is still here&lt;br /&gt;the wounds are still fresh&lt;br /&gt;calling out your name&lt;br /&gt;hoping for the day you come back&lt;br /&gt;for me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you're far away, so far away&lt;br /&gt;the absences is here to stay&lt;br /&gt;but remember i still love you&lt;br /&gt;and the pain will remain, the pain will remain&lt;br /&gt;in my heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-hey. here's my contribution to your songwriting pursuits. it kindda sucks though. be the one to make the changes. heee.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7742590951716429656-4595315870732472460?l=yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/feeds/4595315870732472460/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7742590951716429656&amp;postID=4595315870732472460' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/4595315870732472460'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/4595315870732472460'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/2008/01/for-guy-who-calls-himself-eric.html' title='for a guy who calls himself eric.'/><author><name>You can call me Cheska--</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02899180873032532818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/SKg5eVIFC0I/AAAAAAAAACc/0kdj-_oOOjw/S220/1_918523893l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7742590951716429656.post-6136958727769217403</id><published>2008-01-15T04:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-15T05:04:32.611-08:00</updated><title type='text'>today i committed suicide</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Today I committed suicide.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I have been depressed for the past few days, mainly because of my empty wallet. However, what triggered my suicidal feeling was my realization of the fact that I am alone in a place full of strangers, with no friends and only relatives who often think I'm misconstrued. I am living a life of solitude, unloved, left with no one to love.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I am sad. Very sad. Last Sunday I felt like putting my life into an end. I felt like crying, but my lachrymal glands just didn't work. So I just diffused my energies in washing the dishes at 5am Monday, just so to divert my thoughts of becoming an ethereal being.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I did the laundry today. It's not really common for me to wash my clothes, for the reason that I don't know how to do so. I am learning, though. But afterwards I took a long afternoon stroll to the mountains, contemplating on what I am to do next. I am jaded. I am exhausted. My heart just wants to stop beating, my senses are about to wage a strike. I felt unpretty, unwanted, and most of all, unnoticed. It's almost the same as being dead.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;After a couple of hours of walking I remembered that it's currently my grand-uncle's wake. Upon reaching the hospital I heard my uncles talking about the funeral costs, and like the smell of freshly brewed coffee, I suddenly woke up. I only got 500 bucks in my ATM card. A couple of hundreds in my wallet. No SSS, no insurance policies, no nothing. I can't even pawn my phone. I can't die yet.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;At that point I had to use my head rather than my heart. To hell with my suicidal tendencies. I can't die broke. That's just... suicide.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7742590951716429656-6136958727769217403?l=yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/feeds/6136958727769217403/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7742590951716429656&amp;postID=6136958727769217403' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/6136958727769217403'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/6136958727769217403'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/2008/01/today-i-committed-suicide.html' title='today i committed suicide'/><author><name>You can call me Cheska--</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02899180873032532818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/SKg5eVIFC0I/AAAAAAAAACc/0kdj-_oOOjw/S220/1_918523893l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7742590951716429656.post-570941721618549732</id><published>2008-01-12T20:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-12T20:04:16.240-08:00</updated><title type='text'>rainy sunday emo blues</title><content type='html'>Love is a mind over matter process. It is you who must tell what love must do, and not let love dictate you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was an emotion foreign to me. At transient feeling that comes and goes without saying goodbye. In all honesty I resented the feeling of its presence and my frozen heart does nothing but reject it, knowing it would do me no good. Playing was one thing I enjoyed, so why bother accept complications?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But you came.&lt;br /&gt;And that annoyed me.&lt;br /&gt;Your scent was my hallucinogen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You didn’t know but my nerves suddenly crack whenever I feel you around. I didn’t know it too. I never liked you, nor did your moves give me the slightest interest. I then was too absorbed with the travesties of my so-called life to think of you would give me a heavier burden.&lt;br /&gt;Yet fate decided on its own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The forces of nature one day positioned themselves in the environment we were standing in, waiting for the right moment to disperse. I felt it, but l laughed thinking it was just a daydream, a funny reverie that attempted to defy all my ideals of a knight in shining armor. Why a total stranger whose aspirations I contrasted? It was good that rationality blocked the opportunity of answering my questions. My books have handcuffed me, and you were not worthy of my mind’s exhaustion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Only to find out that I could not oppose the powers which I could not see. From a simple liplock I knew my life would change forever. My brain hung from thinking. I wasn’t ready for the alterations that would come.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But you’re here. In front of me. Your eyes paralyzed me even a thousand miles away. I wanted to run, but I stood frozen. I wanted to go away, but my heart decided otherwise.&lt;br /&gt;I found myself falling. Catch me. It’s too late to hand me a parachute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take me with you. Teach me how to land without stumbling. I fear for the pain I might endure as gravity pulls me back to the ground. Tell me what to do. I want you.&lt;br /&gt;But rejection took me by surprise. I never knew it coming, but it was there after all, in deep hibernation. The myriad of reasons screamed over and over, trying to have them understood by my unreceptive mind. I wanted to end it all. I’ve been experiencing nosebleeds from time to time. I knew it was a big risk but I took it all as well. I lost. I was near the end of the chessboard, but I remained to be a pawn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Teach me to stop. My exhaustion is not enough to make my system falter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Give me a reason not to wait. Take away all my fears of letting go. Release me from the hopes that keep me chained in my delusions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I once wanted to be your queen.&lt;br /&gt;You didn’t want me.&lt;br /&gt;Days will pass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We do not know what fate has in mind. I may be yours one day, or may be someone else’s. But I assure you, I will be a queen, in my own right.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7742590951716429656-570941721618549732?l=yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/feeds/570941721618549732/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7742590951716429656&amp;postID=570941721618549732' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/570941721618549732'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/570941721618549732'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/2008/01/rainy-sunday-emo-blues.html' title='rainy sunday emo blues'/><author><name>You can call me Cheska--</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02899180873032532818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/SKg5eVIFC0I/AAAAAAAAACc/0kdj-_oOOjw/S220/1_918523893l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7742590951716429656.post-506362982020908985</id><published>2008-01-12T19:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-12T19:25:21.347-08:00</updated><title type='text'>debt in the family</title><content type='html'>I was rather apathetic. And I am questioning myself why.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps it was because I knew that I didn't belong there. Yes I am a cousin, a niece, a not-so-distant relative. But in my heart I know that I am not part of the family. I just take on a supporting role in the ongoing family drama. I do not deserve any credit, despite my presence in the whole event.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My grand-uncle passed away last Friday. He was 77. He has been sickly for the past few months now, and I think it is just normal for a guy his age. But that fateful afternoon I heard my aunt scream my name while I was taking a bath, 'Prinky!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Patay na si Tatay!!!!!!!!' Time in a way moved fast for I then found myself in the hospital morgue waiting for my cousins and uncles and aunts to come, as well as the funeral service provider to arrive. We had dinner there, and at midnight his cadaver was finally brought to the funeral chapel to be dressed and embalmed. My other aunt was on her way, as she was coming from Manila. We fetched her in the bus terminal and there she gave her first wave of mourning sobs, Baguio edition. Of course there were lots more to come.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There were lots of food. And so did visitors come. I meanwhile busied myself making decorative ribbons, which my other cousins became enticed to imitate, but there attempts ended in vain by midnight. I was already tipsy at that time, having finished two cans of beer. Unlike my relatives who were all sad and weeping, I took the weekend just like any other ordinary Saturday night. No sympathy. No sadness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Should I cry? Well, my grand-uncle and I were not really that close, due to a myriad of reasons. I know that he was fond of my when I was still a toddler, but I eventually spent the next 19 years 245 kilometers away from him making us too distant to know each other more. I arrived three months before his demise. He was already too weak to talk to me, but I made it a habit to make him smile during our quiet afternoon moments together. I accompanied him to the hospital once and I tried to cheer him up while the doctors were checking on him. I do will miss him, given that he is the only grandfather figure I got.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But why the hell can't I cry?! &lt;a href="mailto:F@#$"&gt;F@#$&lt;/a&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jeepers. Anyway, I'll miss you Tatay. You very well know that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. Tay, oatmeal ang kinakain ng mga angels kaya masanay ka na diyan. Hehe.&lt;br /&gt;T.S. You didn't eat the oatmeal I gave you kaya lagot ka. Hihi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Modesto R. Cumpas&lt;br /&gt;1930-2008&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7742590951716429656-506362982020908985?l=yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/feeds/506362982020908985/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7742590951716429656&amp;postID=506362982020908985' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/506362982020908985'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/506362982020908985'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/2008/01/debt-in-family.html' title='debt in the family'/><author><name>You can call me Cheska--</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02899180873032532818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/SKg5eVIFC0I/AAAAAAAAACc/0kdj-_oOOjw/S220/1_918523893l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7742590951716429656.post-6448982733427491326</id><published>2008-01-10T23:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-10T23:42:11.128-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ang Bantay ni Tatay</title><content type='html'>Laging lasing si Tatay. Mula pa noong magkaisip ako ay lagi ko na siyang nakikitang lango sa alak halos araw-araw. Kung hindi siya magpapabili ng pulutan ay magpapabili siya ng alak. Sabi ni Kuya Peter naging ganon na si Tatay mula nang mamatay ang aming ina noong isiliang niya ako. Bata pa daw si Kuya noong nangyari iyon, pero hindi raw nya malilimutan ang pangyayaring nagbago sa buhay ng aming pamilya.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sa pagkakaalala raw ng kuya ko, mahal na mahal ni Nanay si Tatay noong ito'y nabubuhay pa. Si Tatay lang raw ang walang pagpapahalaga sa kanya at puro mga kaibigan ang inaatupag. May pagka-babaero rin si Tatay. Pero ang lahat ng ito ay hindi inalintana ni Nanay, bagkus lalo pa niyang ipinadama ang pagmamahal nya rito. Kahit binubugbog na siya, at kahit pinagsasabihan na siya nina Lola na iwan na si Tatay ay hindi parin niya ito nilisan. Naging mabuti siyang asawa, at ina kay Kuya.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nabuntis muli si Nanay, at ako na ang iyong dinadala niya. Sabi ni Kuya, kabuwanan na raw ni Nanay nung isang gabing nagkasagutan sila ni Tatay at nagulpi na naman siya nito. Dito na dinugo si Nanay at kinailangan nang dalhin sa ospital. Maselan ang pagbubuntis niya at dahila nga sa nabugbog pa siya ay nailagay sa alanganin ang kanyang panganganak. Nag-agaw buhay si Nanay hanggang sa mailabas ako. Ngunit siya nama'y nawalan ng maraming lakas at dugo kung kaya't agad siyang nanghina. Doon nagising ang Tatay mula sa kanyang kahibangan at humingi ng tawad kay Nanay. Nagmakaawa na sana siya'y mabuhay. Pero hindi na kaya ni Nanay. Sa kanyang huling hininga, and  kanyang lamang nagawa ay bigyan si Tatay ng isang pangako. Ang pangakong hindi niya ito iiwan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sa pagkakaalala ni Kuya, matapos ang libing ni Nanay ay naging balisa na si Tatay araw-araw. Marahil ay dahil sa hindi ito sanay na wala ang Nanay sa kanyang tabi. Dahil dito ay pinilit niyang magpakalango sa bisyo para hindi na siya magising sa realidad ng aming pamilya. May mga pagkakataon rin daw na sinubukan na niyang magpakamatay, para tuluyan nang matakasan ang lahat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isang araw inatake sa puso si Tatay. Sabi ng doktor ay maaaring ikamatay niya 'yon sanhi na nga na malala ang naging epekto ng kanyang mga bisyo. Sabi naman ni Kuya, matagal nang gustong magpakamatay ni Tatay kaya para na rin sa ikabubuti ng lahat ay i-euthanasia na lang siya. Para naman daw hindi na mapahirapan pa ni Tatay ang kanyang sarili. Pero himala at nabuhay si Tatay. Paralisado ang kalahati ng kanyang katawan pero may sapat siyang lakas para mabuhay, at dahil rito ay hindi siya maaaring i-euthanasia. Hindi na siya makakapagsalita, at inilagak na siya sa isang wheelchair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Inuwi namin si Tatay mula sa ospital at bakas sa mukha niya ang lungkot at takot. Sinenyasan nya ako na dalhin ko siya sa may balkonahe para masilayan ang paglubog ng araw. Nakita ko rin na iniwasan niyang tingnan ang letrato ni Nanay na nakasabit sa may dingding ng sala. Sinunod ko ang utos ni Tatay, at iniwan ko siya para tumungo sa kusina para maghanda ng merienda. Nang pabalik na ako sa balkonahe ay may nakita akong isang babae na nakatayo sa likod ng wheelchair ni Tatay. Mahaba ang buhok niya at parang siyang yumuko sa ulo ni Tatay. Nang tinitigan ko siyang mabuti ay parang kilala ko ang kanyang hitsura. Si Nanay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kinwento ko kay Kuya ang nangyari at parang balewala lang sa kanya iyon. Iyon daw talaga ang dahilan kung bakit nagpapakalango si Tatay. Nakikita niya si Nanay sa kanyang tabi. Iyon daw lagi ang kinikwento nito kapag hindi lasing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tumupad nga si Nanay sa kanyang pangako. Hindi niya iniwan si Tatay.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7742590951716429656-6448982733427491326?l=yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/feeds/6448982733427491326/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7742590951716429656&amp;postID=6448982733427491326' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/6448982733427491326'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/6448982733427491326'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/2008/01/ang-bantay-ni-tatay.html' title='Ang Bantay ni Tatay'/><author><name>You can call me Cheska--</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02899180873032532818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/SKg5eVIFC0I/AAAAAAAAACc/0kdj-_oOOjw/S220/1_918523893l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7742590951716429656.post-48632564051794367</id><published>2008-01-10T22:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-10T23:00:46.551-08:00</updated><title type='text'>hindi ako bakla</title><content type='html'>hindi nga ako bakla e. hinde. hinde. hindeeee!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;lalake ako!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what the fuck. this is what happens when i drink a bottle of dark lager.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7742590951716429656-48632564051794367?l=yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/feeds/48632564051794367/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7742590951716429656&amp;postID=48632564051794367' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/48632564051794367'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742590951716429656/posts/default/48632564051794367'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourgeekgoddess.blogspot.com/2008/01/hindi-ako-bakla.html' title='hindi ako bakla'/><author><name>You can call me Cheska--</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02899180873032532818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_L2a1KZnV954/SKg5eVIFC0I/AAAAAAAAACc/0kdj-_oOOjw/S220/1_918523893l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
