<?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-12197605</id><updated>2011-04-22T08:05:16.094+08:00</updated><title type='text'>ImmAcUladA</title><subtitle type='html'>Immaculada Concepcion - my supposed first name for I was born on the 8th of December. Thank heavens my parents saved me from living a life with a semi-dreadful name.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>krissy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12090993554197480171</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a372/kryztine_francezca/friendster4.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>52</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12197605.post-116052408990283490</id><published>2006-10-11T07:45:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-10-11T07:48:09.910+08:00</updated><title type='text'>so stupid</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;come and steal my pain away....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12197605-116052408990283490?l=immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/feeds/116052408990283490/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12197605&amp;postID=116052408990283490' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/116052408990283490'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/116052408990283490'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/2006/10/so-stupid.html' title='so stupid'/><author><name>krissy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12090993554197480171</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a372/kryztine_francezca/friendster4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12197605.post-115778900392181291</id><published>2006-09-09T16:00:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-09-09T16:03:23.936+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Somewhere Only We Know</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;I walked across an empty land&lt;br /&gt;I knew the pathway like the back of my hand&lt;br /&gt;I felt the earth beneath my feet&lt;br /&gt;Sat by the river and it made me complete&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh simple thing where have you gone&lt;br /&gt;I'm getting old and I need something to rely on&lt;br /&gt;So tell me when you're gonna let me in&lt;br /&gt;I'm getting tired and I need somewhere to begin&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I came across a fallen tree&lt;br /&gt;I felt the branches of it looking at me&lt;br /&gt;Is this the place we used to love?&lt;br /&gt;Is this the place that I've been dreaming of?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh simple thing where have you gone&lt;br /&gt;I'm getting old and I need something to rely on&lt;br /&gt;So tell me when you're gonna let me in&lt;br /&gt;I'm getting tired and I need somewhere to begin&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And if you have a minute why don't we go&lt;br /&gt;Talk about it somewhere only we know?&lt;br /&gt;This could be the end of everything&lt;br /&gt;So why don't we go&lt;br /&gt;Somewhere only we know?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh simple thing where have you gone&lt;br /&gt;I'm getting old and I need something to rely on&lt;br /&gt;So tell me when you're gonna let me in&lt;br /&gt;I'm getting tired and I need somewhere to begin&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So if you have a minute why don't we go&lt;br /&gt;Talk about it somewhere only we know?&lt;br /&gt;This could be the end of everything&lt;br /&gt;So why don't we go&lt;br /&gt;So why don't we go&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This could be the end of everything&lt;br /&gt;So why don't we go&lt;br /&gt;Somewhere only we know?&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/12197605-115778900392181291?l=immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/feeds/115778900392181291/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12197605&amp;postID=115778900392181291' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/115778900392181291'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/115778900392181291'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/2006/09/somewhere-only-we-know.html' title='Somewhere Only We Know'/><author><name>krissy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12090993554197480171</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a372/kryztine_francezca/friendster4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12197605.post-115422842818494351</id><published>2006-07-30T10:49:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-07-30T11:00:28.196+08:00</updated><title type='text'>She will be loved</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Jacquelyn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jackielyn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whatever the spelling of her name is, it doesn't change the fact that she exists and she is being loved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am Envious. Bitter. Angry. For she received everything I wanted from someone who didn't give a damn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Makes me think what she has that I didn't have. Sh*t.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12197605-115422842818494351?l=immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/feeds/115422842818494351/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12197605&amp;postID=115422842818494351' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/115422842818494351'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/115422842818494351'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/2006/07/she-will-be-loved.html' title='She will be loved'/><author><name>krissy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12090993554197480171</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a372/kryztine_francezca/friendster4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12197605.post-115176919684726430</id><published>2006-07-01T23:19:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-07-04T23:10:28.640+08:00</updated><title type='text'>...the night just feels right!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I met a friend whom I haven't spend time with for a long time, and it was extra special because this would probably the first time we hang out together all by ourselves - and it was a blast, really! I didn't plan on anything, plus I figured that we would only stroll around the mall, checking out every shop. Yes, we all did that and we had fun more than I ever imagined it to be. You know why?  Urbandub! Woohoo! It was a delight to see them perform live, only a few meters away from us. The good thing was there were only a few people inside the fence so it was not crowded at all. Even they sang only five of their songs and was a bit &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;bitin&lt;/span&gt;, the new cd I bought was totally worth it! Hearing their music was like getting high, without the drugs, and it was a good kind of high. Shet! I have been long wanting to hear Gabby's voice and it just happened. Am I sensing spontainiety? I think I am! And I am looovvviiing it! A good break from my ever monotonous life. Thank you Gabby, Lalay, John and Jan-Jan!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the other hand, I would like to apologize to my HS friends for trading the chance to hang out with you, with watching Urbandub. I can't even bring myself to say sorry, because I am not at least sorry in any way. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Uh-oh!&lt;/span&gt; But I promise to plan, arrange and actually attend our next get together. Hehehe! Sowi!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moving on. Right now, I feel like a whole new person. I think I look less naive and shy. For the  first time in my life, I &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;think &lt;/span&gt;that my semi-bitchings match my new mataray looks. Or so I think. Haha!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another thing. While I was too absorbed in watching Urbandub, someone caught my attention. He was  classmate of mine from elementary that I had a little chat with in one of my ride home. The funny thing is, I didn't speak to him when we were in the same school. But now, all of a sudden, I start seeing him again in different places, and talking, feeling like we've been talking for ages! He is a cool guy - cool because he likes the same music as I do. He is not the usual guy. He's nice and very fun to talk to. Haaay! I don't want to say anything more. It may ruin our &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;future together! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Hahaha!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Libre mangarap.&lt;/span&gt; Dream on krissy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12197605-115176919684726430?l=immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/feeds/115176919684726430/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12197605&amp;postID=115176919684726430' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/115176919684726430'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/115176919684726430'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/2006/07/night-just-feels-right.html' title='...the night just feels right!'/><author><name>krissy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12090993554197480171</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a372/kryztine_francezca/friendster4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12197605.post-114837535020455949</id><published>2006-05-23T16:55:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-05-23T17:14:54.326+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ecstasy at Last!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:85%;" &gt;No words can possibly describe the fulfillment I’m feeling over the past weekend and the day after. I didn’t quite expect that the trip would be that fun and liberating at the same time, liberating in the sense that it was my first overnight out of town trip with friends from college. Imagine buying fresh squid and fish and having them grilled by the native folks, and actually eat them for a late dinner. Eating on a torn Styrofoam with a single utensil was quite challenging especially if you were feasting on large chunks of squid, plus getting all the squid fibers stuck in between your teeth. Hahaha! Oh, I almost forgot, flying cockroaches were all over the place, making the dinner more appealing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:85%;" &gt;The next day was even better! We toured the islands, saw different features of the sea, and trekked one of the island to gain a better view of the place. Alas, we settled in one of the islands where the beach sand was quite abundant to accommodate us. Let me tell you, the sand was actually gorgeous and the waters were amazingly clear. Once we got there, we were so ecstatic that we quickly immerse ourselves in the sparkling water. The only thing that kept us away from swimming in the waters was brunch. It was almost ten in the morning and we haven’t eaten anything, so we just cannot resist the food. After finishing brunch, we went back to the waters, rented a life vest so that we can move away from the shore, to the deep parts of the sea. This was where the fun part began. With Francine’s expertise in swimming/diving, we were able to see fishes! Three yellow and black striped fishes, one small “dory,” a school of dilis-like fishes and colorful corals, we have seen them all underwater. We kept on diving and diving to see these wonders. It was heaven under the sea! Did I make any sense? Haha! Before we left, we explored away from the shore, and swam until we were in really, really deep waters. The experience was truly invigorating, even thought the travel back here was tiring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The day after, we went to Kapitolyo, Pasig to search for sources for our term paper, which is due on Thursday. It was Monday already, and we haven’t started anything at all, so I readied myself for another cramming marathon. After getting our resources, we all went back to our respective homes. Standing in the bus all alone, with my phone out of battery, leaving me with no means to talk with someone and denying me a fm radio transmittance, I just drowned myself with thoughts of planning my schedule and complaining to myself how unfortunate my constant travel is. It is not that I am not comfortable whenever I travel, but it is because of the lack of dazzling faces I so love to see. Until I stepped out of the bus and started to walk towards the van station, I kept on whining to myself. I kept on complaining how many desirable men are out there, and yet I don’t see a single one of them in any of the rides I had.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I arrived at the van station and realized that it was already full, I made my way to the next van. In a split second I saw this guy, and I tell you he was stunning. What excited me even more was that I quickly realized he was a former classmate of mine from elementary, a seatmate to be more specific, and uhmm, had a bit of a history together. I was totally shocked that he grew up like that. To top it all, we sat together in front with the driver. Imagine 45 minutes in that spot with him just a few inches away. Ahhh, 45 minutes of pure ecstasy! Hahaha! Just when my rantings where reaching their highest level, I receive this? Wow, the hands of fate is favoring me this time! Oh, I wouldn’t mind living with this kind of luck. Please go on, make me happy, make my days!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12197605-114837535020455949?l=immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/feeds/114837535020455949/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12197605&amp;postID=114837535020455949' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/114837535020455949'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/114837535020455949'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/2006/05/ecstasy-at-last.html' title='Ecstasy at Last!'/><author><name>krissy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12090993554197480171</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a372/kryztine_francezca/friendster4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12197605.post-114776123287703904</id><published>2006-05-16T14:23:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2006-05-18T01:19:10.466+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Away from Myself</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6249/1021/1600/galing%20sa%20cd%20ni%20det%20042.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6249/1021/200/galing%20sa%20cd%20ni%20det%20042.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Parang kelan lang, karir na karir (sa pagka-cram) ang pag-aaral sa STS. Hehe!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;It has been proven that whenever I am in a situation that is too hard for me to handle, or the pressures were just to demanding, or simply I lack the motivation to work my ass off (read: KATAMARAN), I detach myself from the things I should be doing, the responsibilities I am obliged to take care of, and from the people connected to the situation I am so desperately trying to avoid.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;                &lt;/span&gt;Two years ago, I slowly drifted away from certain people. These people were undeniably precious and very close to my heart and whom I've spent a lot of memorable occasions with. Then something utterly painful happened. I reacted the only possible way I know - detaching myself away. I withdrew myself from the whole experience, including from my precious friends. With all the sanity that was left in me, I tried to suppress every damn memory I had, every one of them, even the most blissfully perfect moments. I did so, even though it was against my personal will. I did it because I was too hurt and wrecked, such that I need to breathe everything out of my system in a single blow. Seeing my friends meant reliving each devastating experience, and I can't withstand that. Funny it is that when I was in the process of excluding myself from them, I felt nothing - no pain, no anything. I found leaving them totally easy, as if I didn't care for them after all. Talk about being a horrible person that I am, leaving, ignoring and taking for granted my so-called-friends.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;                &lt;/span&gt;Call it pathetic, but giving myself time to just sit down and relax, and think of nothing during work demanding days, gives me a sense of balance from everything, like a gust of fresh air and just enough to gather myself and save motivation and energy. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;                &lt;/span&gt;On the other side of that, I am missing important events, requirements, and disappointing people who trust in me. Even if I work my best to regain what I’ve lost, at some point of time, I will automatically detach myself again, creating a round of this vicious, vicious cycle. Sometimes I wonder why I feel this way ? in a certain moment, I am this achiever who stops at nothing and gives her best shot at each opportunity, but in a snap, transforms into a lazy bum, oblivious to the world around her. What I need right now is a major habit breaking phenomena, powerful enough to finally scare me from going back to that tormenting cycle.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12197605-114776123287703904?l=immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/feeds/114776123287703904/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12197605&amp;postID=114776123287703904' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/114776123287703904'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/114776123287703904'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/2006/05/away-from-myself.html' title='Away from Myself'/><author><name>krissy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12090993554197480171</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a372/kryztine_francezca/friendster4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12197605.post-114554757135603754</id><published>2006-04-20T23:36:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-04-20T23:39:31.370+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Time After Time</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Did you ever wish that you could pull the hands of time, to somehow make long hours go faster?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't sleep, wishing that tomorrow would be now, hoping that I would receive that phone call this instant, to end all my misery.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's just too bad that I am watching every single second pass me by, waiting impatiently for that moment, only in the end hearing the words I've been dreading to hear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Beats me how will I react? Would I cry? Most probably. After I have given so much effort and time to it, it will just dissolve into nothingness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wish me luck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12197605-114554757135603754?l=immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/feeds/114554757135603754/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12197605&amp;postID=114554757135603754' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/114554757135603754'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/114554757135603754'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/2006/04/time-after-time.html' title='Time After Time'/><author><name>krissy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12090993554197480171</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a372/kryztine_francezca/friendster4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12197605.post-114469125894779495</id><published>2006-04-11T00:27:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-04-11T01:47:39.023+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Learning from Experiences</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Since when was my last post? Oh, it has been 3 long, grueling, and stressing months. Much things happened -vices acquired and lost, *&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;oh, I hope so!* &lt;/span&gt;too many exams taken and passed, *&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;thank God!* &lt;/span&gt;fought with my parents, but I've finally settled down with them, *&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;that was record breaking... 3 long months? whoow!* &lt;/span&gt;and bonded even more with my friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Last semester was the worst semester I had so far, not academically of course, but of something else. Now that's what I get on relying too much on myself, believing that I could do it ALL alone. Everybody needs help. I refused to believed it then, and now I paid the price. A lesson learned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This sem was when I tried to study "hard" and tried to grasp even just a minute amount of social life, fooling myself that the former would not be affected. But, boy was I sooo wrong. I learned how to party till dawn before an exam I almost hate. Partying without even finishing beforehand half of the readings, which by the way were very easy to understand, you can almost read them in a breeze, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;*speaking sarcastically* &lt;/span&gt;and almost fell asleep during the exam itself, because of the LACK of sleep for the past 24 hours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;One thing I swore not to like, or even see myself do, well guess what? I've done them. Yes. Them. Enjoyed doing them, as a matter of fact. But before I knew it, horrible things started to happen. Crucial final exams of mine were taken for granted, plus the fact that I was almost forbidden to take one exam. Thank heavens they still let me take that exam, but after a 5-minute-scary-as-hell-I-almost-cried interview (a.k.a. sermon) from the strictest department chairperson. I am so glad that that experience was finally over, and I would never, ever want to be in that position again. Another lesson learned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another thing I want to mention is that I just took the NMAT last sunday. I can't say that I was totally prepared for it, but I did review and read notes. I did spend half of my time reviewing as much as I could, but when I can no longer function, which comprised almost the other half of my time, I rewarded myself with watching DVDs. Despite this, I still have no regrets. I think I've done my best in that particular time, and I should just try to hope for positive results.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before it slips out of my mind, I want to share that I just had my first facial treatment. Being unaware of the procedures, I was at first excited for the pampering and relaxing services I would enjoy. BUT NOOOO! I spent the most painful 30 minutes of my life in that room. I felt like crying, but the pain was just too much that my tear ducts refused to let the tears out. The worst part was that after the treatment,  I thought my face would look better because I still have to go some place else. But lo, and behold, I was DEAD wrong-AGAIN. My face looked horrible, *&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I could almost hear my sister saying, "kelan ba hindi naging horrible mukha mo?" yeah right!* &lt;/span&gt;but I had no other choice but to hurry because my friends would be fuming mad. Good thing, after 30 minutes or so, my face began to actually look like a normal face again. Another lesson learned and will painfully remembered. Even though the treatment was too painful, I have no other choice but to go back. Maybe next time would be less painful. I really, really, really hope so!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Currently, I have this weird dream/goal to gain weight. Okay, I want to get fat, but not to fat to the point my BMI would be under the obese classification. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Okay na siguro yung chubby. &lt;/span&gt;And that my friends, is the ultimate reason why I eat like a pig for the past month. From half rice a meal to more than 1 cup of rice, with tremendous amount of sweet desserts afterwards, I am beginning to love eating, without restrictions. I still count the calorie content of the food I eat, but do I give I damn if I already exceeded the recommended intake? Hell, no! I can't stop eating. Even in my dreams I see myself munching on fried porkchop dipped on lots of mayonnaise. Fats, fats and fats, I am eating them all. After reading these, you may have a slight idea on why I don't want to go on swimmings. For crying out loud, my tummy and my thighs would be bursting with excess adipose tissues! And I don't want myself staring to those with lean bodies, while wishing mine was like theirs. With the realization that I am becoming bloated very fast, I still can't restrain myself from eating to much. I keep on telling  myself that as long as I am happy eating, I would be contented with the way my body looks. Oh. My. Gosh. Am I actually hearing this? Hahahahaha!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So if you see me around and noticed a slight change with my body measurements, please try to wake me back to my old me - half rice a meal, and calorie freak/conscious, before its to late.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12197605-114469125894779495?l=immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/feeds/114469125894779495/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12197605&amp;postID=114469125894779495' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/114469125894779495'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/114469125894779495'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/2006/04/learning-from-experiences.html' title='Learning from Experiences'/><author><name>krissy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12090993554197480171</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a372/kryztine_francezca/friendster4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12197605.post-113829563530094152</id><published>2006-01-27T01:05:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-01-28T11:28:24.180+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Chasing, and chasing, and chasing...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Maybe this can explain why I am like this &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(in the words of dashboard confessional).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; chasing’ the ghost of a good thing&lt;br /&gt;Haunting &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;myself&lt;/span&gt; as the real thing&lt;br /&gt;It’s getting away from &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;me &lt;/span&gt;again&lt;br /&gt;While &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; chasing ghosts&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just bend the pieces ‘till they fit&lt;br /&gt;Like they were made for it&lt;br /&gt;But, they weren’t meant for this&lt;br /&gt;No, they weren’t meant for this&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just bend the pieces ‘till they fit&lt;br /&gt;Like they were made for it&lt;br /&gt;But, they weren’t meant for this&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chasing the ghost of a good thing&lt;br /&gt;Haunting &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;myself&lt;/span&gt; as the real thing&lt;br /&gt;It’s getting away, away, away, away from &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;me&lt;/span&gt; again&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chasing the ghost of a good thing&lt;br /&gt;Haunting &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;myself &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;as the real thing&lt;br /&gt;It’s getting away from &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;me&lt;/span&gt; again&lt;br /&gt;While &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; chasin’ ghosts....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12197605-113829563530094152?l=immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/feeds/113829563530094152/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12197605&amp;postID=113829563530094152' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/113829563530094152'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/113829563530094152'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/2006/01/chasing-and-chasing-and-chasing.html' title='Chasing, and chasing, and chasing...'/><author><name>krissy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12090993554197480171</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a372/kryztine_francezca/friendster4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12197605.post-113786025493095377</id><published>2006-01-21T23:54:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-01-22T00:17:34.946+08:00</updated><title type='text'>On boredom..</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I miss my friends.&lt;br /&gt;I miss hanging out with them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been three weeks since classes began to start and I'm starting to get bored and lazy with my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need a break!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12197605-113786025493095377?l=immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/feeds/113786025493095377/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12197605&amp;postID=113786025493095377' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/113786025493095377'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/113786025493095377'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/2006/01/on-boredom.html' title='On boredom..'/><author><name>krissy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12090993554197480171</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a372/kryztine_francezca/friendster4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12197605.post-113726187591365877</id><published>2006-01-15T02:01:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-01-15T02:04:35.930+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ako latest wife!</title><content type='html'>Well, well, well, today's really something...&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;huh!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12197605-113726187591365877?l=immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/feeds/113726187591365877/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12197605&amp;postID=113726187591365877' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/113726187591365877'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/113726187591365877'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/2006/01/ako-latest-wife.html' title='Ako latest wife!'/><author><name>krissy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12090993554197480171</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a372/kryztine_francezca/friendster4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12197605.post-113665475588793991</id><published>2006-01-08T01:04:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-01-08T01:25:55.943+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Why Don't You Come Around?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;How can I find a partcular someone in this country if I don't even know his last name?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Darn it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Asa na lang ako na isang araw magkita kami... huhuhu!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12197605-113665475588793991?l=immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/feeds/113665475588793991/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12197605&amp;postID=113665475588793991' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/113665475588793991'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/113665475588793991'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/2006/01/why-dont-you-come-around.html' title='Why Don&apos;t You Come Around?'/><author><name>krissy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12090993554197480171</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a372/kryztine_francezca/friendster4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12197605.post-113657345145952801</id><published>2006-01-07T00:55:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-01-07T02:50:51.513+08:00</updated><title type='text'>"For One Night Only"</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;It was exactly a week ago yet it felt like it happened a few hours ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It didn't matter that the whole get together was a bit sudden. It didn't matter that I was 2 hours late and that I had trouble getting a ride from baclaran to macapagal. It didn't matter that I had to walk from Libertad back to Baclaran only to know that my friends were in fact in the Libertad area and NOT in blue wave. It didn't matter either that I have to watch the first set of fireworks all alone while my friends are enjoying it together on the other end of the macapagal boulevard. More importantly, it didn't matter that we were all in "senti" mode and are desperately craving for happiness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never expected anything from the "lakad." I thought that it would just be an "another gimik," full of silly laughters and updates about our lives. But I was dead wrong!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CG. Common Ground.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Drinks popped out. Foods were ignored. Dancing was nothing short of  fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As my friends were starting to get successful in  finding and making "pa-cute" with  adorable guys, Kt and I were just dancing the night away and trying to make the most of it. Surprises of all surprises, he came. His presence was just astounding that you simply cannot ignore him. I didn't see him at first for he was behind me trying to join the group we were in. I thought it would be the "usual" - him checking out my friends &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(insecurities seeping out, hehehe)&lt;/span&gt;. Forgive me for being dense and all, but I noticed him only after my friends started to tease me . I looked at my back, and you were there, staring just the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being the very shy one, I continued to socialize with my friends, never initiating talks with you. Still, you stayed. The place was packed and you can only have as much space as your body holds. It was too crowded. Bumping with the person beside you was just common. We were so close as if we knew each other for years. At that time, I was beyond happy for spending a fabulous time with my friends, plus a guy checking you out. I could never ask for anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We left the dancefloor without us even saying a word. We danced beside each other and that was it. At the table, the talks were all about the cute guys my friends met and saw and had convesations with. They were happy, and I was truly happy for them also. What strucked me was that they expected me to talked with the guy they teased me about. It was more surprising to hear disappointments for my lack of courage to at least get that guy's name. So the conversation lead to him being tagged as cute, chinito, tall and "ok" for me. With that, I noted that I should talk/flirt with him the second we come back, only if he moves towards me again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What happened the second time we went back to the dance floor was the most fantastic that ever happened that day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were at the other end of the dancefloor and I tried to look for him, yet he was nowhere in sight. A few minutes after, I saw him not far from us, with some people. I saw him and he saw me. I pulled away. I looked back, and I saw him not just looking back , but also moving towards us. By this time, I was excited and anxious but maintained a "deadma" look. I asked my friend if he was the one we talked about a while ago. She replied with a very giddy and ecstatic tone, saying that I should go for it &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(and haba na ng hair ko!). &lt;/span&gt;After a few minutes of more "energetic" dancing and talking stares, I finally had the courage or should I say the "landi factor" to muster a simple hi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A simple hi led to a series of conversations and dancing at the same time. We talked about our schools, where we live and hang-out, what we do when we unwind, our friends and so on. The conversation was practically great. All the while we were exchaging words, I looked at his every detail. I saw his gorgeous eyes. They were beautiful that once you gazed into them, you can't help but smile. He carried himself  with full confidence. He has this peculiar thing, radiating from his being that tells you he is someone special. He has his way with women and I was aware of that. I love his full self.  I was both scared and &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;sobrang kilig&lt;/span&gt;. He treated me like I was special. As if he knew that instant what I needed - security, respect, trust and affection. He was with the right combination. But I knew at the back of my head that what I was seeing was a great facade to lure women like me - to get it down and dirty. Hello, for crying out loud we were in a bar and most men expect something adventurous from you! But HELL NO! I am not that kind of person!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blame it on me for being too desperate and vulnerable, I just wanted to have fun that time, and possibly gain a &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;boylet&lt;/span&gt;. Haha! I let some of my defenses down and connected with him. The time I spend with him was irreplacable. The way we danced, the way he touched and hold on to me, the way he spoked to my ears, the way he made me feel that it was ok, the way he tried to understand me are beyond words to describe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately, good things such as these are meant not meant to last. For a span of just 3 hours, I felt so happy. Lucky for me, he did text me afterwards. I was very very happy that I did not sleep even if I really wanted to. I was too delighted. Iwas in heaven and I thought that it was God's new year's gift to me. And I welcomed the new year really, really, really happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Days passed and we still kept in touch. However, instead of being pleased more and more, I find him changing, even to the point that I can't withstand his thouhgts. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Sabi ko na nga ba eh! &lt;/span&gt;The person I knew that night was a fake and it was probably because of alcohol. And so I decided that I can't be that kind of person he is expecting of me. I don't want to change myself just to please him. Changing myself would cause me to hate and disrespect myself. And unless he changes back to his sweet self or unless I get very, very,very desperate (oh please don't allow me to) I won't tolerate any of his shit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I am mourning again for another loss. A loss in replace of the former one. At least, as my friend said, I am able to move on from one story to another, even if it delivered the same emotion.  I am probably too clingy with the happy memories that I can't move on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss him.  I want him. Oh shit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12197605-113657345145952801?l=immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/feeds/113657345145952801/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12197605&amp;postID=113657345145952801' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/113657345145952801'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/113657345145952801'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/2006/01/for-one-night-only.html' title='&quot;For One Night Only&quot;'/><author><name>krissy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12090993554197480171</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a372/kryztine_francezca/friendster4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12197605.post-113587317334641638</id><published>2005-12-30T00:18:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-12-30T00:19:33.360+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Come Around</title><content type='html'>I'm dressed all in blue&lt;br /&gt;                       And I'm remembering you&lt;br /&gt;                       And the dress you wore&lt;br /&gt;                       When you broke my heart&lt;br /&gt;                      &lt;br /&gt;                       I'm depressed upstairs&lt;br /&gt;                       And I'm remembering where&lt;br /&gt;                       And when, and how, and why&lt;br /&gt;                       You have to go so far&lt;br /&gt;                      &lt;br /&gt;                       Am I gonna be lonely for the rest of my life&lt;br /&gt;                       Am I gonna be lonely for the rest of my life&lt;br /&gt;                       I'm gonna be lonely for the rest of my life&lt;br /&gt;                       Unless you come around&lt;br /&gt;                       So come around&lt;br /&gt;                      &lt;br /&gt;                       I'm dressed all in white&lt;br /&gt;                       And I remember the night&lt;br /&gt;                       You came on to me&lt;br /&gt;                       And opened up my heart&lt;br /&gt;                      &lt;br /&gt;                       I was hollow then&lt;br /&gt;                       'Til you filled me in&lt;br /&gt;                       Now I'm empty again&lt;br /&gt;                       I should have never let it start&lt;br /&gt;                      &lt;br /&gt;                       Am I gonna be lonely for the rest of my life&lt;br /&gt;                       Am I gonna be lonely for the rest of my life&lt;br /&gt;                       I'm gonna be lonely for the rest of my life&lt;br /&gt;                       Unless you come around&lt;br /&gt;                       So come around&lt;br /&gt;                      &lt;br /&gt;                       No one else can fix me&lt;br /&gt;                       Although sometimes my heart tricks me&lt;br /&gt;                       Into thinking someone else will do&lt;br /&gt;                       But you're the only one&lt;br /&gt;                       You are the only one&lt;br /&gt;                      &lt;br /&gt;                       Am I gonna be lonely for the rest of my life&lt;br /&gt;                       Am I gonna be lonely for the rest of my life&lt;br /&gt;                       I'm gonna be lonely for the rest of my life&lt;br /&gt;                       Unless you come around&lt;br /&gt;                       So come around&lt;br /&gt;                       So come around&lt;br /&gt;                       So come around&lt;br /&gt;                      &lt;br /&gt;                       I'm dressed all in blue&lt;br /&gt;                       And I'm remembering you&lt;br /&gt;                       And the dress you wore&lt;br /&gt;                       When you broke my heart&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12197605-113587317334641638?l=immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/feeds/113587317334641638/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12197605&amp;postID=113587317334641638' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/113587317334641638'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/113587317334641638'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/2005/12/come-around.html' title='Come Around'/><author><name>krissy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12090993554197480171</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a372/kryztine_francezca/friendster4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12197605.post-113552736865368043</id><published>2005-12-26T00:01:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-12-26T00:16:08.666+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bloopers</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Case 1:&lt;br /&gt;D: &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"ma, asan na tayo?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ma: &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"Pedro gil intersecting quirino"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;D: &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"aaahhh, di ko alam nagtutugma rin sila..."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;moment of silenc&lt;/span&gt;e&lt;br /&gt;D: &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"eh, ano ibig sabihin ng PGH? Peeeddrooooo....."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and we burst into laughter! may point nga naman! pedro gil hospital diba?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Case 2: (We were discussing about stress and anger management when my mom made us read an article from a magazine and argued...)&lt;br /&gt;Ma: "&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;kasi ganito yun eh... nakalagay nga dito ways of managing stress blah blah blah... o basahin nyo"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ma: &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"pag stressful at nagkakainitan daw sa opisina, ito may nakalagay..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;when it was our turn to read the article, we found out that it said, "IN COMPANY OF ANGER."  -nyyyeeehh!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Case 3:&lt;br /&gt;C: &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Ate (seryoso pa), ano ba ibig sabihin ng CPR?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;huh? yun lang di mo alam? duh!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;C: &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;ang alam ko lang ano eh... *with lambing effect pa*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;ano?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;C: &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;tama ba? cardiac pulse respiratory?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: hhhuuuuwwwat???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;at wala na kong nasabi sa sobrang katatawanan...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12197605-113552736865368043?l=immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/feeds/113552736865368043/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12197605&amp;postID=113552736865368043' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/113552736865368043'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/113552736865368043'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/2005/12/bloopers.html' title='Bloopers'/><author><name>krissy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12090993554197480171</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a372/kryztine_francezca/friendster4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12197605.post-113414895381316459</id><published>2005-12-10T01:13:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-12-10T01:22:33.813+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Best I Ever Had</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Was it just because it was my day? Or was I lucky? Naaaah, beats me.&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 saw 2 people yesterday I never thought I would see again. And surprise, surprise, there they were, waiting to be found. &lt;em&gt;ehehehehe&lt;/em&gt;!&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;Plus 2 of my friends made that day extra extra special. Indeed, it was the best I ever had.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Yippeee! Happinesss!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12197605-113414895381316459?l=immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/feeds/113414895381316459/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12197605&amp;postID=113414895381316459' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/113414895381316459'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/113414895381316459'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/2005/12/best-i-ever-had.html' title='The Best I Ever Had'/><author><name>krissy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12090993554197480171</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a372/kryztine_francezca/friendster4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12197605.post-113414815432287332</id><published>2005-12-10T01:05:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-12-26T00:00:10.966+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Because we are Worth a Lot!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;" &gt;In a brief conversation, a man asked a woman he was pursuing thequestion, "What kind of man are you looking for?" She sat quietly for a moment before looking him in the eye andasking, "Do you really want to know?" Reluctantly, he said, "Yes." She began to expound... "As a woman in this day and age, I am in a position to ask a man whathe can do for me that I can't do for myself. I pay my own bills. Itake care of my household without the help of any man...or woman forthat matter. I am in the position to ask, "What can you bring to thetable?" The man looked at her. Clearly he thought that she was referring to money. She quickly corrected his thought and stated, "I am not referring tomoney. I need something more." "I need a man who is striving for perfection in every aspect of life." He sat back in his chair, folded his arms, and asked her to explain. She said, "I am looking for someone who is striving for perfectionmentally because I need conversation and mental stimulation. I don'tneed a simple-minded man." "I am looking for someone who is striving for perfection spiritually because I don't need to be unequally yoked... believers mixed withunbelievers is a recipe for disaster." "I need a man who is striving for perfection financially because Idon't need a financial burden. I am looking for someone who issensitive enough to understand what I go through as a woman, butstrong enough to keep me grounded." "I am looking for someone who I can respect. In order to besubmissive, I must respect him. I cannot be submissive to a man whoisn't taking care of his business. I have no problem beingsubmissive... he just has to be worthy. God made woman to be ahelpmate for man. I can't help a man if he can't help himself." When she finished her spiel, she looked at him. He sat there with apuzzled look on his face. He said, " You're asking a lot." She replied, "I'm worth a lot."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: right; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;-an article from peyups.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12197605-113414815432287332?l=immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/feeds/113414815432287332/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12197605&amp;postID=113414815432287332' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/113414815432287332'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/113414815432287332'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/2005/12/because-we-are-worth-lot.html' title='Because we are Worth a Lot!'/><author><name>krissy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12090993554197480171</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a372/kryztine_francezca/friendster4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12197605.post-113370946491401647</id><published>2005-12-04T22:53:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-12-04T23:17:44.926+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Just Grateful...</title><content type='html'>It is good when you can do the things you love. But it is even better when you feel contented and overwhelmed while doing it, and knowing that after all the hardships and the storms you've gone through, you survived amazingly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been happy these past few days and I hope this will keep up till the holidays. :p&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12197605-113370946491401647?l=immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/feeds/113370946491401647/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12197605&amp;postID=113370946491401647' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/113370946491401647'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/113370946491401647'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/2005/12/just-grateful.html' title='Just Grateful...'/><author><name>krissy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12090993554197480171</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a372/kryztine_francezca/friendster4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12197605.post-113240599830587366</id><published>2005-11-19T20:44:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-20T14:26:09.473+08:00</updated><title type='text'>the weather outside is frightful</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;    There is something wrong with the terribly cold and chilly weather - and I know exactly what it is. As the winds glided through my fingers, I felt the same sensation I had a year ago. All memories came rushing as if I had no control, as if I had been transported back , as if I was reliving my life a year ago.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    Last time I checked, I was having my life back - a new one, but then the winds came back. It probably returned to remind me that I can't forget certain experiences,that I should accept the good ones and try to learn to live through the pain of the bad ones. Just like old songs that make you reminisce of the not so distant past, winds brings you back pieces of your life that you've lost or deliberately erased - probably to help make you whole again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12197605-113240599830587366?l=immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/feeds/113240599830587366/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12197605&amp;postID=113240599830587366' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/113240599830587366'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/113240599830587366'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/2005/11/weather-outside-is-frightful.html' title='the weather outside is frightful'/><author><name>krissy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12090993554197480171</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a372/kryztine_francezca/friendster4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12197605.post-113224253237453248</id><published>2005-11-17T23:38:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-17T23:48:52.390+08:00</updated><title type='text'>poo quest</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;poo pressure!&lt;br /&gt;poo pressure!&lt;br /&gt;poo pressure!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12197605-113224253237453248?l=immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/feeds/113224253237453248/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12197605&amp;postID=113224253237453248' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/113224253237453248'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/113224253237453248'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/2005/11/poo-quest.html' title='poo quest'/><author><name>krissy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12090993554197480171</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a372/kryztine_francezca/friendster4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12197605.post-113189450050494943</id><published>2005-11-13T23:00:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-13T23:08:20.516+08:00</updated><title type='text'>BITCHOLOGY*</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; When I stand up for myself and my beliefs, they call me a bitch. When I stand up for those I love, they call me a bitch. When I speak my mind, think my own thoughts or do things my own way, they call me a bitch.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;/span&gt;  &lt;!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Being a bitch means I won't compromise what's in my heart. It means I live my life MY way. It means I won't allow anyone to step on me. When I refuse to tolerate injustice and speak against it, I am defined as a bitch.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;/span&gt; &lt;!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;The same thing happens when I take time for myself instead of being everyone's maid, or when I act a little selfish. It means I have the courage and strength to allow myself to be who I truly am and won't become anyone else's idea of what they think I "should" be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I am outspoken, opinionated and determined. I want what I want and there&lt;br /&gt; is nothing wrong with that! &lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt; So try to stomp on me, try to douse my inner flame, try to squash every ounce of beauty I hold within me. You won't succeed. And if that makes me a bitch, so be it. I embrace the title and am proud to bear it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt; B - Babe&lt;br /&gt; I - In&lt;br /&gt; T - Total&lt;br /&gt; C - Control of&lt;br /&gt; H - Herself&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;/span&gt; &lt;!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;B = Beautiful&lt;br /&gt; I = Intelligent&lt;br /&gt; T = Talented&lt;br /&gt; C = Charming&lt;br /&gt; H = Hell of a Woman&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;/span&gt; &lt;!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;B = Beautiful&lt;br /&gt; I = Individual&lt;br /&gt; T = That&lt;br /&gt; C = Can&lt;br /&gt; H = Handle anything&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;*got this from my friend's email. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;astig diba?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12197605-113189450050494943?l=immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/feeds/113189450050494943/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12197605&amp;postID=113189450050494943' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/113189450050494943'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/113189450050494943'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/2005/11/bitchology.html' title='BITCHOLOGY*'/><author><name>krissy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12090993554197480171</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a372/kryztine_francezca/friendster4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12197605.post-113155375064641222</id><published>2005-11-10T00:13:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-10T00:29:10.670+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Brighter than sunshine</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; I never understood before&lt;br /&gt; I never knew what love was for&lt;br /&gt; My heart was broke, my head was sore&lt;br /&gt; What a feeling&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Tied up in ancient history&lt;br /&gt; I didnt believe in destiny&lt;br /&gt; I look up you're standing next to me&lt;br /&gt; What a feeling&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; What a feeling in my soul&lt;br /&gt; Love burns brighter than sunshine&lt;br /&gt; Brighter than sunshine&lt;br /&gt; Let the rain fall, i don't care&lt;br /&gt; I'm yours and suddenly you're mine&lt;br /&gt; Suddenly you're mine&lt;br /&gt; and it's brighter than sunshine&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I never saw it happening&lt;br /&gt; I'd given up and given in&lt;br /&gt; I just couldn't take the hurt again&lt;br /&gt; What a feeling&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I didn't have the strength to fight&lt;br /&gt; suddenly you seemed so right&lt;br /&gt; Me and you&lt;br /&gt; What a feeling&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; What a feeling in my soul&lt;br /&gt; Love burns brighter than sunshine&lt;br /&gt; It's brighter than sunshine&lt;br /&gt; Let the rain fall, I don't care&lt;br /&gt; I'm yours and suddenly you're mine&lt;br /&gt; Suddenly you're mine&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; It's brighter than the sun&lt;br /&gt; It's brighter than the sun&lt;br /&gt; It's brighter than the sun, sun, shine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Love will remain a mystery&lt;br /&gt; But give me your hand and you will see&lt;br /&gt; Your heart is keeping time with me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; What a feeling in my soul&lt;br /&gt; Love burns brighter than sunshine&lt;br /&gt; It's brighter than sunshine&lt;br /&gt; Let the rain fall, I don't care&lt;br /&gt; I'm yours and suddenly you're mine&lt;br /&gt; Suddenly you're mine &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12197605-113155375064641222?l=immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/feeds/113155375064641222/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12197605&amp;postID=113155375064641222' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/113155375064641222'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/113155375064641222'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/2005/11/brighter-than-sunshine.html' title='Brighter than sunshine'/><author><name>krissy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12090993554197480171</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a372/kryztine_francezca/friendster4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12197605.post-113074748805902896</id><published>2005-10-31T16:17:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-03T01:38:34.773+08:00</updated><title type='text'>my so-called life</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:courier new;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Feels good to finally have a life!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life away from trans and Wheater's and slides and powerpoint presentations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life booming with social activites, getting to meet lots of people and actually having fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life with less responsibilities, even if it is for a short period of time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And back to life, with enough time to wory about things you want to forget.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As much as I longed for this semestral break, I can't wait for classes to start already.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That was my life. And that is the kind of life I want to live.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Call me GC or workaholic or pathetic or weird, I don't care.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is my life and don't mess with it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12197605-113074748805902896?l=immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/feeds/113074748805902896/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12197605&amp;postID=113074748805902896' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/113074748805902896'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/113074748805902896'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/2005/10/my-so-called-life.html' title='my so-called life'/><author><name>krissy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12090993554197480171</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a372/kryztine_francezca/friendster4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12197605.post-112931030209645942</id><published>2005-10-15T01:17:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-15T01:18:22.096+08:00</updated><title type='text'>because of you</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Because Of You&lt;br /&gt; I will not make the same mistakes that you did&lt;br /&gt; I will not let myself&lt;br /&gt; Cause my heart so much misery&lt;br /&gt; I will not break the way you did,&lt;br /&gt; You fell so hard&lt;br /&gt; I've learned the hard way&lt;br /&gt; To never let it get that far&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Because of you&lt;br /&gt; I never stray too far from the sidewalk&lt;br /&gt; Because of you&lt;br /&gt; I learned to play on the safe side so I don't get hurt&lt;br /&gt; Because of you&lt;br /&gt; I find it hard to trust not only me, but everyone around me&lt;br /&gt; Because of you&lt;br /&gt; I am afraid&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I lose my way&lt;br /&gt; And it's not too long before you point it out&lt;br /&gt; I cannot cry&lt;br /&gt; Because I know that's weakness in your eyes&lt;br /&gt; I'm forced to fake&lt;br /&gt; A smile, a laugh everyday of my life&lt;br /&gt; My heart can't possibly break&lt;br /&gt; When it wasn't even whole to start with&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Because of you&lt;br /&gt; I never stray too far from the sidewalk&lt;br /&gt; Because of you&lt;br /&gt; I learned to play on the safe side so I don't get hurt&lt;br /&gt; Because of you&lt;br /&gt; I find it hard to trust not only me, but everyone around me&lt;br /&gt; Because of you&lt;br /&gt; I am afraid&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I watched you die&lt;br /&gt; I heard you cry every night in your sleep&lt;br /&gt; I was so young&lt;br /&gt; You should have known better than to lean on me&lt;br /&gt; You never thought of anyone else&lt;br /&gt; You just saw your pain&lt;br /&gt; And now I cry in the middle of the night&lt;br /&gt; For the same damn thing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never stray too far from the sidewalk&lt;br /&gt; Because of you&lt;br /&gt; I learned to play on the safe side so I don't get hurt&lt;br /&gt; Because of you&lt;br /&gt; I try my hardest just to forget everything&lt;br /&gt; Because of you&lt;br /&gt; I don't know how to let anyone else in&lt;br /&gt; Because of you&lt;br /&gt; I'm ashamed of my life because it's empty&lt;br /&gt; Because of you&lt;br /&gt; I am afraid&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Because of you&lt;br /&gt; Because of you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12197605-112931030209645942?l=immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/feeds/112931030209645942/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12197605&amp;postID=112931030209645942' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/112931030209645942'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/112931030209645942'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/2005/10/because-of-you.html' title='because of you'/><author><name>krissy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12090993554197480171</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a372/kryztine_francezca/friendster4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12197605.post-112931021581155524</id><published>2005-10-15T00:49:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-15T01:16:55.816+08:00</updated><title type='text'>tokyotokyo.glorietta.seattle'sbest.greenbelt</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;It seems like what I do bet nowadays is to hangout with my friends. I guess I kinda deserve it after all the hell, both academically and emotionally, I've been through.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I realized today was that I can't turn my back on friends who have been there with me since our high school era. Even though we never got to spend enough time with each other, as we have promised, nothing can change the fact that we are definitely friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aside from sharing the same dilemma (yes, they are the men that make our lives both complicated and frustrating and painful, but nevertheless, happy), parallel view points and the same tendency to be attracted to almost all sorts of things, we still have our own unique identities and differences that makes us interested in each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's tina, who is presently having a hard time figuring out what she wants.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kt, who is seemingly entangled in a web of complicated emotions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Liel, who thinks that things are against her "world."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lala, who, I know, is presently happy and contented, and I feel glad for her too!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And tin, who tries to get over things too trashy too tell. You know what I mean.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want you to know that despite I'm too busy (too busy to even trim my toe nails) I always think of you. And I regret the lazy in me for not having the initiative to establish contact with you. It would always be nice to have you as my friends. I know that you guys will always be there, and the mere presence of you makes me happy beyond words, with or without a boylet. ehehehehe!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wala namang magdadamayan kung di tayo-tayo lang diba?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12197605-112931021581155524?l=immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/feeds/112931021581155524/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12197605&amp;postID=112931021581155524' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/112931021581155524'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/112931021581155524'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/2005/10/tokyotokyogloriettaseattlesbestgreenbe.html' title='tokyotokyo.glorietta.seattle&apos;sbest.greenbelt'/><author><name>krissy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12090993554197480171</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a372/kryztine_francezca/friendster4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12197605.post-112930854883284232</id><published>2005-10-15T00:25:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-15T00:49:08.850+08:00</updated><title type='text'>1st gimik with college tropa</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;st1:time minute="0" hour="13"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;1:00  pm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/st1:time&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;    PH 141 - Biostatitics 4th exam in multi puprose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;st1:time minute="0" hour="16"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;4:00 pm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/st1:time&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;    Nurti lab to check the 2nd exam of Biochem lab.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;st1:time minute="0" hour="17"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;5:00 pm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/st1:time&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;    Rob to buy Kris' top.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;st1:time minute="0" hour="18"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;6:00 pm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/st1:time&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;    Ate at KFC for dinner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;st1:time minute="30" hour="19"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;7:30 pm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/st1:time&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;    Stayed at Kris' apartment so that we could get ready (Plan C mode for moi and Plan A mode for tricia and francine).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;st1:time minute="0" hour="21"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;9:00 pm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/st1:time&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;   Stucked in front of Kris' apartment because it was raining and there were not enough umbrellas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;st1:time minute="15" hour="21"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;9:15 pm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/st1:time&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;   Finally got to Rob again to meet Dette, Francine and Rox (we were almost in wet mode then).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;st1:time minute="20" hour="21"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;9:20 pm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/st1:time&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;   Treaded the streets of Orosa with most of us wearing heels, plus the fact that the street was flooded. Fortunately, there were pedicabs to save us from the ankle deep water ( and their were not looking very clean).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;st1:time minute="30" hour="21"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;9:30 pm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/st1:time&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;   Reached FLuid Lounge in our NOW wet look mode, although we still look beautiful... ahahaha!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;st1:time minute="35" hour="21"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;9:35 pm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/st1:time&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;   We danced the night away and really, really enjoved the company of each other. Hey, it was our first gimik ever!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;st1:time minute="0" hour="23"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;11:00 pm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/st1:time&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;   Shocked by a stripping and seducing number.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;st1:time minute="0" hour="1"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;1:00 am&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/st1:time&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;   Left fluid lounge and planned to walk till we reach Kris' place, but francine's shoe broke, so tricia's dad went to get us and dropped us off to Kris' place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1:15 am   Tricia said goodbye and went home with her dad, while I was still deciding whether I’m going home at a very unsafe hours of the morning. Not to forget that we spent too much time lazily talking about the night and letting our feet rest from all the agony it were suffering ? blame them on those darn heels… ahahaha!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;2:30 am&lt;span style=""&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;Breakfast at Max’s. Francine left. Decided to WALK back to fluid lounge (gano kalayo un?? All I know, my feet hurt real bad)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;st1:time minute="0" hour="3"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;3:00  am&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/st1:time&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;Back to fluid lounge. Natripan ang Tell Me Where It Hurts ng MYMP.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;st1:time minute="30" hour="4"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;4:30  am&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/st1:time&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;7&lt;sup&gt;th&lt;/sup&gt; floor &lt;/span&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;&lt;st1:placename&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;Rob&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/st1:PlaceName&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;st1:placename&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;Towers&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/st1:PlaceName&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;. Bonded with a friend a haven’t talked for a long time, which was really good (&lt;/span&gt;&lt;st1:city&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;sana&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:City&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt; maulit!). Watch the sunrise (almost!). Masaya. Astig. Feels good to spend your morning with friends.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;st1:time minute="30" hour="7"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;7:30  am&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/st1:time&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;Fast asleep in my room.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;Whatta day! If these what make your college days a blast, all the toxicity and sleepless nights cramming for an exam is worth it! Makes it more superb when you have superb friends with you! Thank you guys!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12197605-112930854883284232?l=immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/feeds/112930854883284232/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12197605&amp;postID=112930854883284232' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/112930854883284232'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/112930854883284232'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/2005/10/1st-gimik-with-college-tropa.html' title='1st gimik with college tropa'/><author><name>krissy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12090993554197480171</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a372/kryztine_francezca/friendster4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12197605.post-112766065409412599</id><published>2005-09-25T23:01:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-09-25T23:04:14.106+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Letting go</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;You were, to put it simply, everything to me.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; You were my weekends, my nights, the indirect influence to what I did with my days, what I bought with my money, what I’d see, read, or single out off a rack of shelf at a store.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; Yours was the phone call that I always wanted to get, the messages that I leave undeleted on my phone, the chats I save on file no matter how mundane, all for the sake of sentimentality.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;    Time spent with you was never wasted even if it was spent quietly over lunch or laughing uproariously over coffee.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;   You were everything. You were my life. And clearly, that wasn’t a good thing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; Because sure enough when you left me hanging, I felt disoriented. Befuddled. Not knowing what to do next, not knowing if I even wanted to do anything.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;   And so I buried myself to my ears in work, tried to look the other way, struggled to keep sane even if I went crazy inside.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; Became thankful, and at the same time scornful at how people believed that I’d be okay. Thankful for their faith that I’d gather my wits, my resolve, not to mention my brokenness together and face the music; scornful for them not cutting me any slack for being human.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; But then, maybe, nobody really expected me to stay when it ended. Was it my stubbornness? My determination to rise above emotions and prove you wrong?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;   Perhaps. Perhaps also your expectations that I should rise above my pain and continue with my duty. Because I owe you that much.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;    Just as you owed me an explanation or a half-decent apology.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; Though of course, words enough won’t even begin to smooth over whatever damage that was already done. So the least you could have done was to give me time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;   Time to heal.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; But that by far was the last thing you gave. I had to take it in the name of self-preservation. Take it because I feel I was entitled.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;    Take it because this time, I’m doing things because it would give me happiness, be it at the expense of yours.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; On hindsight, yes, people expected me to be strong enough. And I probably am. But just because I'm strong enough to steel myself against the pain, doesn't make it hurt any less. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; Looking back I realized that I lost so much of myself being with you. And lost whatever little remained of me when you left me behind.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;    Losing you made me lose everything.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; But now that I have nothing, even you or what we had, I’ve only got everything else to gain. A new beginning, a clean slate, a chance at life and become the woman I was before you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;   And now without you... &lt;i&gt;in spite&lt;/i&gt; of what you've done.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;   I’d start to thank you but that would give you too much credit now, wouldn’t it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;- an article from peyups.com&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/12197605-112766065409412599?l=immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/feeds/112766065409412599/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12197605&amp;postID=112766065409412599' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/112766065409412599'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/112766065409412599'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/2005/09/letting-go.html' title='Letting go'/><author><name>krissy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12090993554197480171</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a372/kryztine_francezca/friendster4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12197605.post-112754400781366924</id><published>2005-09-24T14:20:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-09-24T14:40:07.820+08:00</updated><title type='text'>ang pag-Di-i-i-E-e-A-eyey...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: webdings;font-size:85%;" &gt;                                Umiiyak ang aking pusong nagdurusa&lt;br /&gt; Ngunit ayokong may makakita&lt;br /&gt; Kahit anong sakit ang aking naranasan&lt;br /&gt; Iyan ay ayokong kanyang malaman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Mga araw na nagdaan&lt;br /&gt; Kailanma'y hindi malilimutan&lt;br /&gt; Kaytamis na araw nang pagmamahalan&lt;br /&gt; Ang akala ko'y walang hangganan&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Ang pag-ibig kong ito&lt;br /&gt; Luha ang tanging nakamit buhat sa iyo&lt;br /&gt; Kaya't sa Maykapal tuwina'y dalangin ko&lt;br /&gt; Sana'y kapalaran ko ay [MAY BAGO] ehehehehe!!!                                    &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12197605-112754400781366924?l=immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/feeds/112754400781366924/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12197605&amp;postID=112754400781366924' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/112754400781366924'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/112754400781366924'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/2005/09/ang-pag-di-i-i-e-e-eyey.html' title='ang pag-Di-i-i-E-e-A-eyey...'/><author><name>krissy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12090993554197480171</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a372/kryztine_francezca/friendster4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12197605.post-112683472283312292</id><published>2005-09-16T09:15:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-09-16T09:38:42.840+08:00</updated><title type='text'>gusto ko mag-post</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;gusto ko mag-post,&lt;br /&gt;pero wala akong maisip&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;gusto ko mag-post,&lt;br /&gt;dahil dapat marami akong masabi,&lt;br /&gt;pero ayaw lumabas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;gusto ko mag-post,&lt;br /&gt;dahil masaya ako,&lt;br /&gt;pero ayaw talaga&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;gusto ko mag-post,&lt;br /&gt;pero di ko magawa&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12197605-112683472283312292?l=immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/feeds/112683472283312292/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12197605&amp;postID=112683472283312292' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/112683472283312292'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/112683472283312292'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/2005/09/gusto-ko-mag-post.html' title='gusto ko mag-post'/><author><name>krissy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12090993554197480171</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a372/kryztine_francezca/friendster4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12197605.post-112438335104792438</id><published>2005-08-19T00:04:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-08-19T00:51:28.956+08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's time to cross the bridge and get there... where ever that is!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Life is all about making decisions - what path to take, what career to pursue and what dreams to conquer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;****************&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It pains me so that even the things I want to do, the talents I want to gain, are not within my reach.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why is it that I always have to pick only but one?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why can't I get the best of everything?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why can't I do ALL the things I want to do?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why is it always not for me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why is it I have to chose between two things that have grown dear to me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do I have to chose which one I love more, when my passion for them is uncomparable? It is like trying to decide which color is better, white or black?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;***************&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Nakakaasar kasi minsan lang ako magkaroon ng gusto, as in gusting gusto, na handa akong gawin ang lahat para magawa lamang iyon. Pero kung bakit yung mga bagay na importante ang kailangang pagpilian? Hindi naman marami ang hinihiling ko ah? Konting bagay lang iyon kung ikukumpara sa iba.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lagi ko sinasabi sa aking mga kaibigan na sa buhay ay kailangan nating mamili kung ano sa tingin natin ang makakabuti at makakapagpatupad ng ating mga pangarap. Kailangan natin gumawa ng mga sakripisyo para makamtam ang mga tunay nating mithiin. Oo, katulad ng dati, madali sabihin sa iba, ngunit ang pagsabi nito sa ating sarili ay lubhang napakahirap sundin. Naguguluhan na ko. Nahihirapan bumitaw sa mga bagay na gusto ko. Natatakot akong mawalan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kungsabagay, hindi naman lahat ng gusto natin ang nakakabuti at nararapat. Kahit na sa ating palagay ay makakatulong ito sa ating pagkatao, wala pa rin tayo sa posisyong ipilit ang mga bagay na hindi talaga itinakda sa atin. SIYA lang ang nakakaalam ng para sa atin. Kahit na minsan taliwas iyon sa ating mga kagustuhan, ang daan na inilaan NIYA ang pinakamagandang suhestiyon sa lahat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Faith is believing in things which are not seen but true. It is all about stepping into the dark and letting HIM be the light on your path. It is all about losing yourself and resting your arms into HIS shoulders.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HE wouldn't ever let us down, right?&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12197605-112438335104792438?l=immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/feeds/112438335104792438/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12197605&amp;postID=112438335104792438' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/112438335104792438'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/112438335104792438'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/2005/08/its-time-to-cross-bridge-and-get-there.html' title='It&apos;s time to cross the bridge and get there... where ever that is!'/><author><name>krissy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12090993554197480171</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a372/kryztine_francezca/friendster4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12197605.post-112391312078402383</id><published>2005-08-13T14:01:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-08-13T14:05:20.783+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Thursdays are Great Days with Rico Blanco</title><content type='html'>Am I right Francine and Dette?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wahehehehe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Para sa atin na na-LSS sa mga kantang ito last thursday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Now sing with me... liwanag sa dilimmmmm *with the hand movements of course!*&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12197605-112391312078402383?l=immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/feeds/112391312078402383/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12197605&amp;postID=112391312078402383' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/112391312078402383'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/112391312078402383'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/2005/08/thursdays-are-great-days-with-rico.html' title='Thursdays are Great Days with Rico Blanco'/><author><name>krissy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12090993554197480171</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a372/kryztine_francezca/friendster4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12197605.post-112391283118990165</id><published>2005-08-13T13:55:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-08-14T01:25:39.790+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Only when I sleep...kaya nga lagi akong late eh!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;You're only just a dreamboat&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sailing in my head&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;You swim life-secret oceans&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Of coral blue and red&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Your smell is incense burning&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Your touch is silken yet&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;It reaches through my skin&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Moving from within&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;And touches at my breast&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;But it's only when I sleep&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;See you in my dreams&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;You got me spinning round and round&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Turning upside-down&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;But I only hear you breathe&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Somewhere in my sleep&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Got me spinning round and round&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Turning upside-down&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;But it's only when I sleep&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;And when I wake from slumber&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Your shadow's disappear&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Your breath is just a sea mist&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Surrounding my body&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I'm workin' through the daytime&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;But when it's time to rest&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I'm lying in my bed&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Listening to my breath&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Falling from the edge&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;But it's only when I sleep&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;See you in my dreams&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;You got me spinning round and round&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Turning upside-down&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;But I only hear you breathe&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Somewhere in my sleep&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Got me spinning round and round&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Turning upside-down&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;But it's only when I sleep&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Up to the sky&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Where angels fly&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I'll never die&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Hawaiian &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;High&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;In bed I lie&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;No need to cry&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;My sleeping cry&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Hawaiian High&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;All...right.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;It reaches through my skin&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Moving from within&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;And touches at my breast....&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;But it's only when I sleep&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;See you in my dreams&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;You got me spinning round and round&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Turning upside-down&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;But I only hear you breathe&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Somewhere in my sleep&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;You got me spinning round and round&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Turning upside-down&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;But it's only when I sleep&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;High&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;In bed I lie&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;No need to cry&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;My sleeping cry&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Hawaiian High&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Yes, it's only when I...Sleeeeeeepp.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12197605-112391283118990165?l=immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/feeds/112391283118990165/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12197605&amp;postID=112391283118990165' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/112391283118990165'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/112391283118990165'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/2005/08/only-when-i-sleepkaya-nga-lagi-akong.html' title='Only when I sleep...kaya nga lagi akong late eh!'/><author><name>krissy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12090993554197480171</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a372/kryztine_francezca/friendster4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12197605.post-112391251626764614</id><published>2005-08-13T13:51:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-08-14T01:31:51.950+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Careless Whisper.... so next time, be careful!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Time can never mend the careless whispers of a good friend&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;To the heart and mind, ignorance is kind&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;there's no comfort in the truth&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;pain is all you'll find&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Should've known better&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I feel so unsure&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;as I take your hand and lead you to the dance floor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;as the music dies, something in your eyes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;calls to mind the silver screen&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;and all its sad good-byes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I'm never gonna dance again&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;guilty feet have got no rhythm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;though it's easy to pretend&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I know you're not a fool&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Should've known better than to cheat a friend&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;and waste the chance that I've been given&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;so I'm never gonna dance again&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;the way I danced with you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Time can never mend&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;the careless whispers of a good friend&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;to the heart and mind&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;ignorance is kind&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;there's no comfort in the truth&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;pain is all you'll find&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I'm never gonna dance again&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;guilty feet have got no rhythm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;though it's easy to pretend&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I know you're not a fool&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;S&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;hould've known better than to cheat a friend&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;and waste this chance that I've been given&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;so I'm never gonna dance again&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;the way I danced with you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Never without your love&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Tonight the music seems so loud&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I wish that we could lose this crowd&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Maybe it's better this way&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;We'd hurt each other with the things we'd want to say&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;We could have been so good together&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;We could have lived this dance forever&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;But no one's gonna dance with me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Please stay&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;And I'm never gonna dance again&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;guilty feet have got no rhythm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;though it's easy to pretend&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I know you're not a fool&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Should've known better than to cheat a friend&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;and waste the chance that I've been given&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;so I'm never gonna dance again&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;the way I danced with you(Now that you're gone) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Now that you're gone(Now that you're gone) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;What I did's so wrong&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;that you had to leave me alone&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12197605-112391251626764614?l=immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/feeds/112391251626764614/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12197605&amp;postID=112391251626764614' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/112391251626764614'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/112391251626764614'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/2005/08/careless-whisper-so-next-time-be.html' title='Careless Whisper.... so next time, be careful!'/><author><name>krissy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12090993554197480171</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a372/kryztine_francezca/friendster4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12197605.post-112391222166409528</id><published>2005-08-13T12:32:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-08-15T00:54:58.340+08:00</updated><title type='text'>too happy to handle</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Holding on to it too tightly would be useless. Sharing it with everyone will increase its intensity.&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;We were supposed to watch the ESKAPO 3 concert last night but due to the nasty weather [geez, thank you so much!], we decided to call it off. Instead we watched BEWITCHED. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;******************&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I could not ask for anything last night. But in all things, in the most unexpected time and day and person, it just happened.&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 waiting for it for soooo long. I cannot count how may times I think about it each day. Not even in my wildest dreams I thought it would happen, more like that it was from someone like you. Then again, life is full of surprises and you never fail to bring them to me. &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;Blame it on me for thinking about it too often, that when it happened last night, there is not a tinge of excitement and joy, rather that of fear, and regret, and remorse. What in the world was he thinking and feeling? So thick and elusive his character and personality, comparable to that of an E. coli exhibiting thick and sturdy capsule, that even his family, the gram stain that could expose his existence&lt;em&gt;[Well now, there is India ink, right?]&lt;/em&gt;,  could not figure out the things in his head. [&lt;em&gt;Does he even have one? - ooopss! next line please.]&lt;/em&gt;&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;Questions that are too many to answer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Questions that are to many that time would not be sufficient.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Questions that surely won't have the right answers.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Questions that would forever be unanswered.&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;Those are the kind of things that should be forgotten. Hopes rendered for it be killed and phagocytosed by macrophages, only in the end they would stay as lipofuschin pigments that until you die, would stay with you.&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;That kind of person will be with you, till you implement strict measures that even the host would feel the pain. Just like Pseudomonas that needs a 3rd generation cephalosphorin to be fully eradicated.&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;You have ways, stares, and the warmth that ensures security and protection that creeps deep into me just as viruses striking their spikes deep enough to clinge with the proper receptor sites. As much as I try to envelope me with layers and layers of protection and resistance, I become more susceptible for you have the right enzymes to degrade the polyssacharides and proteins responsible for providing me protection and security.&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;No matter how hard I try to say that I am over you, everytime I feel your presence, you let me succumb down to my knees and make me realize that I am not fully over you, rather, I am almost over you. Almost, but not quite.&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;You bring me too much infection that the convalescent stage is no where near me. &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;A resistant bacteria you become that even Vancomycin cannot cure.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;A resistant bacteriathat will cause my death.&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;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;*********************&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I am thinking of giving up skindiving&lt;em&gt;*as if I am already in it* &lt;/em&gt;and concentrating on starting with my piano lessons. But I fear, aside from several disappointments from other people, feeling like a loser who never accomplishes anything no matter how hard she tries. I would always be this someone so useless, plain and mediocre person who poses as someone she is not. Just like I hate those who just throw away their life, I hate myself for being exactly the person I do not want to be.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;SAVE ME FROM THIS NOTHING I BECOME.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12197605-112391222166409528?l=immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/feeds/112391222166409528/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12197605&amp;postID=112391222166409528' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/112391222166409528'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/112391222166409528'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/2005/08/too-happy-to-handle.html' title='too happy to handle'/><author><name>krissy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12090993554197480171</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a372/kryztine_francezca/friendster4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12197605.post-112330267873453196</id><published>2005-08-06T12:29:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-08-06T12:31:18.740+08:00</updated><title type='text'>nice one!</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;"I want you to do things WITH me, not do things FOR me"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;em&gt;- from the movie"Guess Who"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12197605-112330267873453196?l=immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/feeds/112330267873453196/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12197605&amp;postID=112330267873453196' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/112330267873453196'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/112330267873453196'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/2005/08/nice-one.html' title='nice one!'/><author><name>krissy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12090993554197480171</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a372/kryztine_francezca/friendster4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12197605.post-112323534751228847</id><published>2005-08-05T17:26:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-08-05T17:49:07.516+08:00</updated><title type='text'>whhhhooooaaa!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.friendster.com/viewphoto.php?p=e&amp;pid=142099081&amp;amp;uid=2644054"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;It has been more than a month now, since I posted my last entry. Am I really that busy? GC? Partly yes. &lt;em&gt;Gala kasing gala. At shempre dahil dumagdag na rin ang skin diving. Karirin ito! Wahehehehe! &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:85%;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:85%;color:#000000;"&gt;Actually, I have lots of things to say, I just can't find the time to really input them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12197605-112323534751228847?l=immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/feeds/112323534751228847/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12197605&amp;postID=112323534751228847' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/112323534751228847'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/112323534751228847'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/2005/08/whhhhooooaaa.html' title='whhhhooooaaa!'/><author><name>krissy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12090993554197480171</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a372/kryztine_francezca/friendster4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12197605.post-112023417413569248</id><published>2005-07-01T23:50:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-07-02T00:09:34.146+08:00</updated><title type='text'>BOOM!</title><content type='html'>Pakiramdam ko isa akong &lt;em&gt;walking time bomb&lt;/em&gt;. Isang maling bagay &lt;em&gt;matritrigger&lt;/em&gt; na ang aking pgagsabog. Akala ko masaya na ko at wala nang pakialam, pero kanina sa &lt;em&gt;concert&lt;/em&gt; ng &lt;em&gt;UPMC&lt;/em&gt;, hindi ko alam kung bakit ako nalungkot. Kasi ba naman, ikaw kaya makarining nung kanta na yun! Ito ay nagmistulang &lt;em&gt;trigger&lt;/em&gt; at hindi ko namalayan, unti-unti na pala akong sumasabog. Buti na lang nadaan sa MGA HINGANG MALALIM. harharhar!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tinanong nga ako ng isa kong &lt;em&gt;friend&lt;/em&gt; kong bakit, at pakiramdam konting saglit na lang hindi ko na kakayanin. Siguro may mga bagay talaga na hindi minamadali, tulad na lang ng &lt;em&gt;pagm0ve&lt;/em&gt;-&lt;em&gt;on&lt;/em&gt;. Mahirap kasi i-&lt;em&gt;supress&lt;/em&gt; ang mga bagay na dapat ilabas. Para yang &lt;em&gt;poopoo&lt;/em&gt; na kailangan ilabas &lt;em&gt;everyday&lt;/em&gt;, dahil kapag tumagal ito sa katawan, magkakaroon ng mga &lt;em&gt;complications&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ewan ko kung sira o &lt;em&gt;abnormal&lt;/em&gt; na ata ako. Siguro nakakaranas ako ngayon ng isang kakaibang &lt;em&gt;constipation&lt;/em&gt;, na kahit gustuhin ko man ilabas, hindi ko magawa, dahil hindi pwede.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry kung bakit hindi ko sinabi sa iyo, ayoko lang magkalat don.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ayoko rin sumabog.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12197605-112023417413569248?l=immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/feeds/112023417413569248/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12197605&amp;postID=112023417413569248' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/112023417413569248'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/112023417413569248'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/2005/07/boom.html' title='BOOM!'/><author><name>krissy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12090993554197480171</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a372/kryztine_francezca/friendster4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12197605.post-112004761195601613</id><published>2005-06-29T20:00:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-06-29T20:20:11.960+08:00</updated><title type='text'>moving on...</title><content type='html'>After feeling so depressed and down this past few days, I believe I am FINALLY starting to pick up the pieces of me. And I have Francine, Dette, Ryan, Kris, Tricia, Rox and Bob to thank for. They are those who are responsible for making me happy just by being with their company. They made it easier for me to attend classes and be totally focused about them. It was definitely a relief that I was able to share to them what truly happened, without me feeling more sorry for myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guys, I just want to say thank you for not reacting the way I was expecting. Thank you for not making me feel stupid and more stupid. And thank you for listening and trying to at least understand me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Akala ko kasi iisipin nyong...ah basta!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sobrang nagpapasalamat ako dahil friends ko kayo...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*drama no? wala lang!*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12197605-112004761195601613?l=immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/feeds/112004761195601613/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12197605&amp;postID=112004761195601613' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/112004761195601613'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/112004761195601613'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/2005/06/moving-on.html' title='moving on...'/><author><name>krissy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12090993554197480171</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a372/kryztine_francezca/friendster4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12197605.post-111967087403013874</id><published>2005-06-25T11:35:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-06-25T11:41:14.030+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tell me where it hurts</title><content type='html'>Why is that sad look in your eyes&lt;br /&gt;Why are you crying?&lt;br /&gt;(Tell me now)2x&lt;br /&gt;Tell me why you're feelin' this way&lt;br /&gt;I hate to see you so down, oh baby!&lt;br /&gt;Is it your heart&lt;br /&gt;Oh, that's breakin' all in pieces&lt;br /&gt;Makin' you cry&lt;br /&gt;And makin' you feel blue&lt;br /&gt;Is there anythin' that I can do&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why don't you tell me where it hurts now, baby&lt;br /&gt;And I'll do my best to make it better&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I'll do my best to make those tears all go away&lt;br /&gt;Just tell me where it hurts&lt;br /&gt;Now, tell me&lt;br /&gt;And I love you with a love so tender&lt;br /&gt;Oh and if you let me stay&lt;br /&gt;I'll love all of the hurt away&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where are all those tears coming from&lt;br /&gt;Why are they falling?&lt;br /&gt;somebody, somebody, somebody left your heart in the cold&lt;br /&gt;You just need somebody to hold on, baby&lt;br /&gt;(Give me a chance)&lt;br /&gt;To put back all the pieces&lt;br /&gt;Take hold of your heart&lt;br /&gt;Make it just like new&lt;br /&gt;There's so many things that I can do&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is it your heart&lt;br /&gt;Oh, that's breakin' all in pieces&lt;br /&gt;Makin' you cry makin' you feel blue&lt;br /&gt;Is there anythin' that I can do&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tell me, tell me, tell me, tell me baby&lt;br /&gt;Tell me, tell me, tell me, tell me&lt;br /&gt;And I'll do my best to make it better&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I'll do my best to make the tears all go away&lt;br /&gt;Just tell me where it hurts&lt;br /&gt;Now, tell me And I love you with a love so tender&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and if you let me stay&lt;br /&gt;I'll love all of the hurt away&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12197605-111967087403013874?l=immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/feeds/111967087403013874/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12197605&amp;postID=111967087403013874' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/111967087403013874'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/111967087403013874'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/2005/06/tell-me-where-it-hurts.html' title='Tell me where it hurts'/><author><name>krissy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12090993554197480171</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a372/kryztine_francezca/friendster4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12197605.post-111967044066018380</id><published>2005-06-25T10:46:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-06-25T11:34:00.666+08:00</updated><title type='text'>lies, lies, lies, lies, and many more lies.</title><content type='html'>Just when you thought all those extermely happy and worth keeping memories are the ones you can all count on. Think again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just when you thought you were happy and contented at last with just a mere memory of the distant past. Think again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just when you thought you were truly lucky and blessed for you have been given the chance to know and love the people around you. Think again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just when you thought that being kind and excessively understanding is enough. Think again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just when you thought that every word uttered came from the innermost corners of his heart. Think again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just when you thought that such a creature of beautiful and radiating character could not possibly partake of any evil, think again. There is evil even behind smiling eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Very painful it is when a person whom you love dearly has consciously and deliberately deceived, manipulated, and used you, just to satisfy his personal and selfish desires. Every damn word and action ever done was nothing but a big fucking LIE. For almost half a year, I fell under his control. And yeah, sir Esguerra was totally right when he said that when we are in love, we become blind in seeing the other person’s mistakes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How could I ever underestimate him? How did I ever believe in every lousy explanation he had? How come I did not read his actions right? Or maybe, I read it right, but refused to believe in them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just could not believe that everything could dissolve into nothing, after all those sacrifices. Is this the price I have to pay for loving too much? Or is this another round of proof that I am not worthy and capable of loving? Is this a way of telling me that I am not good enough and will always be? Am I too hard to be loved? Am I not a person worthy of such appreciation? You tell me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After all the hurt and suffering I’ve been through, I was willing to forgive you, AGAIN. It is all because I love you too much. I was willing to do that without expecting anything. But you destroyed me down to my tiniest unit. You wrecked me. You crashed every foundation I built for us, just by telling me that you did not love me from the start until these last few months.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After successfully hurting me, you are telling me that you now love me and that it was not hard for someone like you to fall in love with me.  DAMN IT! How wicked can you get? Oh, I forgot. You also wanted me to come back to you. That is how WICKED you can be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As much as I want to be happy with you, I am so afraid of trusting in you again. There is a part of me that still want you, and another doesn’t. I am sorry because this will take time. I am just a human being, susceptible of being hurt and afraid. I may be able to forgive you and move on, but for now give me time to heal myself and be whole again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am frightened that the love I have for you may not be sufficient to kiss all these pain away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you, goodbye.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12197605-111967044066018380?l=immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/feeds/111967044066018380/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12197605&amp;postID=111967044066018380' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/111967044066018380'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/111967044066018380'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/2005/06/lies-lies-lies-lies-and-many-more-lies.html' title='lies, lies, lies, lies, and many more lies.'/><author><name>krissy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12090993554197480171</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a372/kryztine_francezca/friendster4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12197605.post-111966619298903809</id><published>2005-06-25T10:18:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-06-25T10:23:12.993+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Little Miss "I did my own fart!"</title><content type='html'>I HATE back fighters! I hate them! I hate her!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If this is the price I have to pay for discussing other people’s lives with my tropa, I would certainly, undoubtly and definitely would not EVER practice gossiping. I could not believe that such despicable and pretentious person still exists. In small and friendly and cheerful ways, she would see to it that you will fall helplessly on her trap. Miss one moment, one gathering, and you will serve her victim. She will savagely destroy your reputation and your very personality. She will rip open all your darkest and dirtiest secrets for all the people to see and hear. She will meddle with your private life. She can effortlessly raise your blood pressure before you can even blink your eye. And she can do all this, without getting her image destroyed, without making herself looked as if she was the “kontrabida.” Instead, the victim being pitied, it is her who gains all the people’s sympathy. How evil can she get?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, even though I know for a fact that she have done this a million times before me, I will make sure that I will make my side clear. I will make sure that she would learn her lesson. I will divulge her devious ways. I will not ignore her acts, but instead I would correct them, even if it means that I have to use offending ways. Yes, offending ways ? because she has grown immune to subtle and kindly approaches.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I try to be friendly. I try to please other people. I try to understand them. I try to forgive the little things they’ve done wrong. I always try to smile even though I feel great anger. But this time, I would not try to ignore it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She successfully found the key to unleash my entire wrath.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let all hell break loose!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12197605-111966619298903809?l=immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/feeds/111966619298903809/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12197605&amp;postID=111966619298903809' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/111966619298903809'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/111966619298903809'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/2005/06/little-miss-i-did-my-own-fart.html' title='Little Miss &quot;I did my own fart!&quot;'/><author><name>krissy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12090993554197480171</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a372/kryztine_francezca/friendster4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12197605.post-111742208952696916</id><published>2005-05-30T10:46:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-05-30T11:01:29.533+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Imagine your biggest and most horrifying nightmare comes to life and haunt you for real.  It felt too real. It felt so scary that it gave me goosebumps! It was too terrifying that it took me a long time to get over it. The thing I hate about it the most was that I did it, I was not forced to, and I actually wanted it, enjoyed it. I truly hate myself. Even if it was just a dream, I still made that choice, with my own free will.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Had to punish myself, for being so stupid and weak at the same time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12197605-111742208952696916?l=immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/feeds/111742208952696916/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12197605&amp;postID=111742208952696916' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/111742208952696916'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/111742208952696916'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/2005/05/imagine-your-biggest-and-most.html' title=''/><author><name>krissy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12090993554197480171</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a372/kryztine_francezca/friendster4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12197605.post-111695541667780637</id><published>2005-05-25T01:01:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-05-26T12:08:49.783+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Possessed?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I do not approve of taking naps on the afternoon, aka &lt;em&gt;siesta&lt;/em&gt;, for it makes me insomniac at night. However, due to a slight twist of fate, blame it on the gazillion house chores I've done, I just found myself sleeping not in the afternoon but in the very early hours of the evening, &lt;em&gt;mga 6 to 7 pm lang naman.&lt;/em&gt; I woke up an hour short of midnight and did my supposed routine. I ate, took a bath, and trimmed my nails. But still, I am far from getting sleep yet again. And what better thing to keep me up is to surf the net and update my blog?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Last friday, Ate Len left us, or rather we let her go. With her gone, all chores assigned to her automatically had fallen upon our heads. As if I was possessed by some spirit that I turned from a root-and-fruit-bearing-bum to a full-blown-and industirous-being. I was just surprised that I did not felt any reluctance to do all the work left, but instead I felt happy. I dunno if it is because at last I have something to do, or I see it as a means to lose weight. Whatever my reason maybe, at least I know that I am gradually preparing myself to go back to school and be buried with loads and loads of my academics.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12197605-111695541667780637?l=immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/feeds/111695541667780637/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12197605&amp;postID=111695541667780637' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/111695541667780637'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/111695541667780637'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/2005/05/possessed.html' title='Possessed?'/><author><name>krissy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12090993554197480171</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a372/kryztine_francezca/friendster4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12197605.post-111680811470070712</id><published>2005-05-23T08:07:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-05-23T08:28:34.706+08:00</updated><title type='text'>keeping up</title><content type='html'>Feeling lazy that I am, I failed to keep my posts updated. Maybe because I feel like I have nothing to say or I am just dead lazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I recently rediscovered the wonders of star wars. Even though I have yet to see Episode 3: Revenge of the Sith, I just found myself drooling over the last 2 episodes. I have never realize that the soon to be Darth Vader was such an eye candy, and he exudes a certain kind of aura, peculiar only to him. With this newly-acquired-liking, I promised myself that I will watch the third installment before school begins. That's a great way to finish summer, aight?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few months ago, I met a person and lets call him P. Unlike any other persons that I met, I found in him great sincerity and the desire to believe. Just observing this super kind and almost perfect radiating being, makes me bow to him with great respect. I am certainly awed by his peculiar characteristics - characteristics that I could not believe still existed in one body. Don't get me wrong, I do not have any feelings for this guy, the "like" feelings for that matter. I just wish that every guy could have what makes him so girls like us won't have a hard time finding our own Mr. Right.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12197605-111680811470070712?l=immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/feeds/111680811470070712/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12197605&amp;postID=111680811470070712' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/111680811470070712'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/111680811470070712'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/2005/05/keeping-up.html' title='keeping up'/><author><name>krissy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12090993554197480171</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a372/kryztine_francezca/friendster4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12197605.post-111604317359187286</id><published>2005-05-14T11:50:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-05-14T11:59:33.596+08:00</updated><title type='text'>happy, sha-la-la-la!</title><content type='html'>Life is such a beautiful thing to waste.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am feeling so happy right now that I could imagine myself floating on cloud nine! Wahehehe! I have decided not to be sad anymore. I realized that life is offering me lots of wonderful and fantabulous opportunities. I realized that I've got so much things to do, so many goals to accomplish, and so many ways to be happy and contented.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Feeling optimistic that I am, I am looking forward for lots of beautiful days like these ahead. And I know that it is up to me to make beautiful "things" happen. *wink wink*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12197605-111604317359187286?l=immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/feeds/111604317359187286/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12197605&amp;postID=111604317359187286' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/111604317359187286'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/111604317359187286'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/2005/05/happy-sha-la-la-la.html' title='happy, sha-la-la-la!'/><author><name>krissy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12090993554197480171</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a372/kryztine_francezca/friendster4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12197605.post-111573828338789819</id><published>2005-05-10T23:05:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-05-10T23:26:44.553+08:00</updated><title type='text'>driving</title><content type='html'>I got my student's license today and I am extremely happy and excited about driving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am going to get some training very soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it scares me that I may turn our car into some wreck. wahihihi. :p&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;May God forbid it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12197605-111573828338789819?l=immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/feeds/111573828338789819/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12197605&amp;postID=111573828338789819' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/111573828338789819'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/111573828338789819'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/2005/05/driving.html' title='driving'/><author><name>krissy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12090993554197480171</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a372/kryztine_francezca/friendster4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12197605.post-111539617731312408</id><published>2005-05-07T00:14:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-05-07T00:16:17.320+08:00</updated><title type='text'>ESKAPO</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;_eskapo_&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To escape is not the best way to resolve your problems and personal issues, but it is the easiest and the most feasible option for human beings such as myself. The only drawback of it is that you don’t actually overcome them; you are just forcing them to bury itself in the deepest and darkest corner of your being.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To escape is to show that you are coward. To escape is a desperate act. To escape is to take the risk of leaving all those who are precious and dear to you just because you can’t stand that teeny-weeny-bitchy problem of yours. To escape is to enjoy in the illusion that you could actually find a temporary haven for your soul, away from all those crap ? only to be haunted again in the end. To escape is to pretend that you are strong, but are truly weak on the insides. To escape is to hope that you could someday move on, without facing it. To escape is to show that you are tough enough to take that step forward without that horrible thing and live again. To escape is to desire to become someone better. To escape is to find another source of happiness aside from what you have been used to. To escape is to live a life away and very different from the former. To escape is to set your priorities straight. To escape is to desire that you want to make yourself better. To escape is to prove that you want to have more of what you got, so that after you are seemingly contented, you may come back and finally resolve all those problems. To escape is a medium to find the strength to face him again and hope that you may able to say and show the things you long wanted to express.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To escape is the best way to find yourself, feel complete and realize the importance of the people you love around you. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12197605-111539617731312408?l=immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/feeds/111539617731312408/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12197605&amp;postID=111539617731312408' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/111539617731312408'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/111539617731312408'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/2005/05/eskapo.html' title='ESKAPO'/><author><name>krissy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12090993554197480171</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a372/kryztine_francezca/friendster4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12197605.post-111539597550767552</id><published>2005-05-07T00:10:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-05-07T00:12:55.513+08:00</updated><title type='text'>uber-mushy quotes</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I shiver at the idea of spending the rest of my life with only one person. But the idea of you not being in my life scares me more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I didn’t treat you quite as good as I should have. And maybe I didn’t love you, quite as often as I could have. Little things that I should have said and done, I just never had the time. But you were always on my mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People say that only when you are in love are you truly alive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you really want something in this world, all of the universe conspires in helping you achieve it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you really love a person, set him free. &lt;em&gt;Luma na yan! Duwag lang ang gumagawa niyan, dahil and tao kung mahal mo talaga, paglalaban mo hanggang sa huli at hindi mo ipamimigay. Kaya nga mahal mo diba?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As long as I know for a fact that the sun will rise again tomorrow, I will continue to hope and believe that I am destined to love and experience a happily-ever-after ending with you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Maraming dahilan, pero ang dahilan ko ay ikaw.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12197605-111539597550767552?l=immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/feeds/111539597550767552/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12197605&amp;postID=111539597550767552' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/111539597550767552'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/111539597550767552'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/2005/05/uber-mushy-quotes.html' title='uber-mushy quotes'/><author><name>krissy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12090993554197480171</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a372/kryztine_francezca/friendster4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12197605.post-111539572847072619</id><published>2005-05-07T00:05:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-05-07T00:08:48.476+08:00</updated><title type='text'>wait or go?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;I’ve been hopeless&lt;br /&gt;Waiting here in my door&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From the top of my head&lt;br /&gt;Down to this narrow floor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’ve been so awake&lt;br /&gt;I’ve been so afraid to know… to know…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tell me what to do&lt;br /&gt;I don’t know why I’m hopeless&lt;br /&gt;In this show&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tell me it doesn’t hurt&lt;br /&gt;If I’ll found out that I’m alone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Coz I’ve been waiting for so long&lt;br /&gt;Do I need to wait here or go&lt;br /&gt;Wait or go?&lt;br /&gt;Wait or go?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Wait or Go&lt;br /&gt;6 Cycle Mind&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Exactly. It says it all.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12197605-111539572847072619?l=immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/feeds/111539572847072619/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12197605&amp;postID=111539572847072619' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/111539572847072619'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/111539572847072619'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/2005/05/wait-or-go.html' title='wait or go?'/><author><name>krissy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12090993554197480171</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a372/kryztine_francezca/friendster4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12197605.post-111484849923598757</id><published>2005-04-30T15:11:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-04-30T16:08:19.250+08:00</updated><title type='text'>*sings* ...love moves in mysterious wayss...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I have never encountered a song that perfectly fit me the way the song, &lt;em&gt;Love moves in mysterious ways,&lt;/em&gt; does. The very moment I heard did, I knew that this instant "liking" will last. And it is been going on for 2 months now, and still counting.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I know I have gone way over board for being so cheesy. I just can't help it! &lt;em&gt;naaaahhh! &lt;/em&gt;This song really stirs up all the butterflies in my stomach, making me feel really good. And feeling good for a few minutes wouldn't hurt me right? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Kaya nga ako, sige ng sige hanggang magsawa... ahahaha!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Who'd have thought&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;This is how the pieces fit?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;You and I&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Shouldn't even try making sense of it&lt;br /&gt;I forgot&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;How we ever came this far&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I believe we had reasons but&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I don't know what they are&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;So blame it on my heart, oh&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Love moves in mysterious ways&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;It's always so surprising&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;When love appears over the horizon&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I'll love you for the rest of my days&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;But still, it's a mystery &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;How you ever came to me&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Which only proves&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Love moves in mysterious ways&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Heaven knows&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Love is just a chance we take&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;We make plans &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;But then love demands a leap of faith&lt;br /&gt;So hold me close&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;And never let me go'&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Cause even though we think we know which way the river flows&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;That's not the way love goes, no&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Love moves in mysterious ways&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;It's always so surprising&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;When love appears over the horizon&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I'll love you for the rest of my days&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;But still, it's a mystery&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;How you ever came to me&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Which only proves&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Love moves in mysterious ways&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Like the ticking of the clock two hearts beat as one&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;But I'll never understand the ways it's done&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Love moves in mysterious ways&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;It's always so surprising&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;When love appears over the horizon&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I'll love you for the rest of my days&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;But still, it's a mystery&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;How you ever came to me&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Which only proves&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Love moves in mysterious ways&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Love moves in mysterious ways&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12197605-111484849923598757?l=immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/feeds/111484849923598757/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12197605&amp;postID=111484849923598757' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/111484849923598757'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/111484849923598757'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/2005/04/sings-love-moves-in-mysterious-wayss.html' title='*sings* ...love moves in mysterious wayss...'/><author><name>krissy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12090993554197480171</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a372/kryztine_francezca/friendster4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12197605.post-111471121296232830</id><published>2005-04-29T01:21:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-04-29T02:00:12.963+08:00</updated><title type='text'>the NEED for BACKUPS</title><content type='html'>Life is full of surprises. And indeed it is!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When my dad woke me up and asked me if I had saved all my files in a removable disk, I was shattered. I knew it! He blew it up! He "accidently" trashed all the contents of the stupid computer! All those crappy pictures that took me months to accumulate were gone. Yes, they were JUST pictures, pictures that I just have to climb a mountain, celebrate my 18th bday and christmas , and do silly things with my friends again in order to regain them. Yes, those pictures meant nothing to me! Yeah right! &lt;em&gt;Sinong niloko mo???&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am feeling so devastated, as if I was stripped all of my happy memories. &lt;em&gt;Lahat na nawala, bakit iyon pa dapat masama. Iyon na nga lang meron ako sa mga kahapong lumipas, nawala pa. Kung kailan iyon na lang ang pinanghahawakan ko sa lahat ng bagay na inaasahan ko, nilisan na rin ako. Kung tutuusin pwede ko naman palitan ang mga iyon ng bago, pero kahit ano pa ang gawin ko, magiging iba at iba pa rin ang mga iyon sa dati.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I am just being so clingy with all those things. Maybe it is a sign that I should let go of them. Maybe this is the dawn of a new and wonderful beginning for me. Maybe God wants me to experience more than what I had. Maybe I should learn how to accept change even if I don't want it. Maybe this is just a test. Maybe God wants me to be more tough. Maybe I should open my eyes a little bit more to the positive side. Maybe God wants me to realize that there is more to life than what I had and been experiencing. Maybe God wants me to be prepared. And maybe, God wants me to realize that I do need a back up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this time, I will refuse to be lazy. I will be ever patient and diligent in saving my files somewhere other than in my computer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have learned my lesson well, for I learned it the hard way.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12197605-111471121296232830?l=immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/feeds/111471121296232830/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12197605&amp;postID=111471121296232830' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/111471121296232830'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/111471121296232830'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/2005/04/need-for-backups.html' title='the NEED for BACKUPS'/><author><name>krissy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12090993554197480171</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a372/kryztine_francezca/friendster4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12197605.post-111410081654925592</id><published>2005-04-21T23:57:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-04-22T00:26:56.553+08:00</updated><title type='text'>missing someone...very badly!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;I &lt;strong&gt;miss&lt;/strong&gt; them all - my high school tropa, ryan, francine, dette, tricia, rox, kris, verna, sharon, may, bernadette, LEAH and HIM!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;Yeah, I know distance makes you miss those people. You'll remember all those times you've shared, whether they were funny, serious or even irritating. And what made missing those people worse was that I have all the time in the world! Meaning, I have all the time to think and have nothing to think about, leaving me staring into space and think of them. &lt;em&gt;Haayyyy, nabobore na talaga ako!&lt;/em&gt; I want to do something, to make my time more useful and productive! Now that I am officially a BUM, all I am accomplishing is gaining more weight each day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;Going back to the "missing-someone" topic. I realized lately that the worst way to miss someone is having the chance to actually be with him physically but not having that connection. It is like he is so near, yet he is so far at the same time. No matter how hard I try to reach out, it still won't work! Honestly, I hate losing and failing. I believe that in all things that I do, I should give my best, even in these kind of situations. But now, I am totally losing this fight! I don't know when to hope and when to give up. The sad thing is that I don't want to give up, because I want to make this work, but I feel that I am fighting this battle all by myself when he should have been with me all along. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;YOU &lt;/strong&gt;know what? I am sick and tired of waiting for you. But then again, I still refuse to let you go because I believe anything less than mad, passionate, extraordinary (even in enduring extreme agony) is a waste of one's time. There are too many mediocre things in this world and &lt;em&gt;it&lt;/em&gt; should not be one of them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;Btw, I missed you today.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;And tonignt, I still do.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12197605-111410081654925592?l=immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/feeds/111410081654925592/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12197605&amp;postID=111410081654925592' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/111410081654925592'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12197605/posts/default/111410081654925592'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://immaculadaconcepcion.blogspot.com/2005/04/missing-someonevery-badly.html' title='missing someone...very badly!'/><author><name>krissy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12090993554197480171</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a372/kryztine_francezca/friendster4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
