<?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-8709407208098549077</id><updated>2012-01-24T21:31:55.194+08:00</updated><category term='learnings'/><category term='looking'/><category term='wicked'/><category term='frog'/><category term='tv series'/><category term='movies'/><category term='books'/><category term='death'/><category term='supernatural'/><category term='fairy tales'/><category term='new'/><category term='grey&apos;s anatomy'/><category term='nature'/><category term='relationships'/><category term='goodbyes'/><category term='freedom'/><category term='valentine&apos;s day'/><category term='challenges'/><category term='fantasy'/><category term='thoughts'/><category term='realizations'/><category term='family'/><category term='fang'/><category term='chill.'/><category term='anger'/><category term='released'/><category term='edward'/><category term='myself'/><category term='mother'/><category term='past'/><category term='changes'/><category term='confusion'/><category term='future'/><category term='story'/><category term='walking'/><category term='waiting'/><category term='reflections'/><category term='abandonment'/><category term='reality'/><category term='maximum ride'/><category term='storms'/><category term='immature'/><category term='crush'/><category term='hate'/><category term='alone'/><category term='life lessons'/><category term='school'/><category term='decisions'/><category term='disappointments'/><category term='trials'/><category term='people'/><category term='problems'/><category term='pain'/><category term='choices'/><category term='psych'/><category term='bulletin'/><category term='love'/><category term='sadness'/><category term='answers'/><category term='trails'/><category term='second choice'/><category term='infatuation'/><category term='attention'/><category term='hurt'/><category term='syringe'/><category term='obstacles'/><category term='solutions'/><category term='heartaches'/><category term='ideal'/><category term='hope'/><category term='star wars'/><category term='boy'/><category term='never'/><category term='emotions'/><category term='memories'/><category term='one tree hill'/><category term='jacob'/><category term='strong'/><category term='internet'/><category term='girl'/><category term='twilight'/><category term='high school'/><category term='prince'/><category term='heroes'/><category term='happiness'/><category term='hardships'/><category term='phoenix'/><category term='new moon'/><category term='friends'/><category term='man'/><category term='haters'/><category term='james patterson'/><category term='me'/><category term='catherine hardwick'/><category term='friendster'/><category term='stress'/><category term='gossip girl'/><category term='maze'/><category term='Music'/><category term='tattoo'/><category term='bella'/><category term='unrequited'/><category term='goals'/><category term='post'/><category term='martyrdom'/><category term='blog'/><category term='journey'/><category term='frustrations'/><category term='life'/><category term='numb'/><category term='left behind'/><category term='parents'/><category term='friendship'/><category term='dreams'/><category term='present'/><category term='leave'/><category term='wisdom'/><category term='feelings'/><category term='closure'/><category term='quotes'/><category term='crossroads'/><category term='Michael Jackson'/><category term='prison break'/><category term='questions'/><title type='text'>Chamillionaire</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>CHAM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05245062024591759542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_64dF58M5P7E/R-oDqztmPTI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/SG_kwaN4C4k/S220/cham.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>75</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709407208098549077.post-8955498586451718565</id><published>2012-01-24T21:29:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-24T21:31:55.217+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tattoo'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='choices'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='phoenix'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='decisions'/><title type='text'>Priestess of Suzaku</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-O5H-lCnLKrA/Tx6um1YOYkI/AAAAAAAAAVc/SOoItm4jkHs/s1600/rtg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-O5H-lCnLKrA/Tx6um1YOYkI/AAAAAAAAAVc/SOoItm4jkHs/s320/rtg.jpg" width="210" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;"and in time, this too shall pass."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I can feel the needle seeping through my skin. I can feel it burning from within me. I want this pain to end, to not feel it ever again but then, it was my decision.. it was I who decided to hurt myself just to get the satisfaction of having it on me for as long as I will live.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I toss and tumble on my bed thinking of what to do, to pursue it or not, to just leap and not think of consequences that I will be facing in the near future. As the days come to pass, the image of a bird keeps on lingering my mind. It illuminates with reddish aura, something beautiful and inviting. The mystery of it made me curious, wondering if the bird is indeed real or not.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;There I was, in a room full of needles. Terrified, I wanted to abandon the plan of getting the bird but I was pretty determined of getting it that even my nerves, as much as they've been telling me to run, my feet won't even move. I was there.. trapped and waiting for the bird to appear.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;And so it did.. with red, orange and yellow colors.. I have not seen more beautiful than what I have been imagining for so long.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;TTFN.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8709407208098549077-8955498586451718565?l=champerez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/feeds/8955498586451718565/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8709407208098549077&amp;postID=8955498586451718565&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/8955498586451718565'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/8955498586451718565'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/2012/01/priestess-of-suzaku.html' title='Priestess of Suzaku'/><author><name>CHAM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05245062024591759542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_64dF58M5P7E/R-oDqztmPTI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/SG_kwaN4C4k/S220/cham.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-O5H-lCnLKrA/Tx6um1YOYkI/AAAAAAAAAVc/SOoItm4jkHs/s72-c/rtg.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709407208098549077.post-3198563278296938744</id><published>2011-11-28T15:23:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-11-28T15:37:24.843+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='prince'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fairy tales'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fantasy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>A Sorta Fairy Tale With You</title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YsRcVZtD1a8/TtM4z6QTDDI/AAAAAAAAAVU/N_oP85SRgxY/s1600/42870d9d4ace35a99a082fece13f22e0.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YsRcVZtD1a8/TtM4z6QTDDI/AAAAAAAAAVU/N_oP85SRgxY/s320/42870d9d4ace35a99a082fece13f22e0.jpg" width="213" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 16px;"&gt;&lt;span class="body" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="body" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;"I always looked for a man to rescue me and bring me happiness. I bought into that myth, of course, and looked for my own Prince Charming."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="body" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;-Linda Evans&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://browse.deviantart.com/photography/?q=fairy%20tale%20lovers&amp;amp;order=9&amp;amp;offset=0#/d26l3h2"&gt;x&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;no more deceit, no more lies&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;it's time to open up my eyes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;no more foolishness, no more pain&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;coz i have been waiting in vain&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;no more second chances, no more tears&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;i have learned to let go of my fears&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;no more sadness, no more gloom&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;i've been feeling so blue for so long&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;no more sweet nothings nor kind gestures&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;for i have enough of my delusions of grandeur&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;i locked my heart in a place no one could find it&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;i'm so fed up with guys trying to keep me interested&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;i'm done shattering into bits and pieces&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;i isolated myself from the world around me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;i threw away my dreams of finding my prince charming&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;coz every guy out there has monsters locked inside of them&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;i fantasize no more of my dream castle&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;since prince charming has been long gone lost in the woods,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;shot in his heart with a poisonous arrow.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;as much as i want to put myself in deep slumber&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;i can't coz i have to face my reality.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;i woke up with tears on my eyes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;then i heard the beautiful music of the night&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;i saw someone walked into my room&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;hugged me tight, never letting me go&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;this someone, so real and true&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;someone who took away my blues&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;i can see myself smiling -- imagining ever happy ending&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;i can see myself smiling hoping this dream would never end.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8709407208098549077-3198563278296938744?l=champerez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/feeds/3198563278296938744/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8709407208098549077&amp;postID=3198563278296938744&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/3198563278296938744'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/3198563278296938744'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/2011/11/sorta-fairy-tale-with-you.html' title='A Sorta Fairy Tale With You'/><author><name>CHAM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05245062024591759542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_64dF58M5P7E/R-oDqztmPTI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/SG_kwaN4C4k/S220/cham.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YsRcVZtD1a8/TtM4z6QTDDI/AAAAAAAAAVU/N_oP85SRgxY/s72-c/42870d9d4ace35a99a082fece13f22e0.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709407208098549077.post-7224993335124932886</id><published>2011-10-13T10:03:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-10-13T10:04:52.663+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sadness'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='emotions'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='reality'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='boy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='goodbyes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='obstacles'/><title type='text'>Dead Girl Walking</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-S2AUTAh2pCI/TpZCiEv8YPI/AAAAAAAAAVI/bvsrRxFvT7s/s1600/thorned_by_winged_creations-d3ujtc0.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-S2AUTAh2pCI/TpZCiEv8YPI/AAAAAAAAAVI/bvsrRxFvT7s/s320/thorned_by_winged_creations-d3ujtc0.jpg" width="213" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;"Behind my smile is a hurting heart. Behind my laugh, I'm falling apart.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Look closely at me and you will see,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;the girl I am isn't me."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://browse.deviantart.com/photography/?qh=&amp;amp;section=&amp;amp;q=thorned#/d3ujtc0"&gt;x&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;forced to smile, forced to laugh, forced to be someone i'm not. forced to fly, forced to leap, forced to say words i don't want to speak. forced to remember, forced to forget, forced to run away from something great. forced to sparkle, forced to glow, forced to get to know someone i don't want to know.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;i shudder in pain with the thoughts of you. i don't want you here, i don't want to feel -- i don't want to feel happiness nor exhilaration; all i want are rains and thunderstorms -- gloomy days in heaven. you should go, i don't want you here. you should go for you are worthless to me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;i will push, push, push you off the cliff. i will push, push, push you out of my life. you once gave me cherry trees and freshly cut grass now i only have boulders and roses with thorns. i want to be numb and not feel anything. i want to be numb and go through a day, a week, a month, a year without pain.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;my butterflies died the moment you crushed my heart. oh how could you do this thing to me? we hugged, we kissed, we were in a bliss; and no longer in the abyss. my heart burns every time i see you around and i thought you were the exception to every boy in town. it seems that i was wrong for you are just like them all along.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;TTFN.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8709407208098549077-7224993335124932886?l=champerez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/feeds/7224993335124932886/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8709407208098549077&amp;postID=7224993335124932886&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/7224993335124932886'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/7224993335124932886'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/2011/10/dead-girl-walking.html' title='Dead Girl Walking'/><author><name>CHAM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05245062024591759542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_64dF58M5P7E/R-oDqztmPTI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/SG_kwaN4C4k/S220/cham.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-S2AUTAh2pCI/TpZCiEv8YPI/AAAAAAAAAVI/bvsrRxFvT7s/s72-c/thorned_by_winged_creations-d3ujtc0.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709407208098549077.post-740393799594753399</id><published>2011-09-10T23:01:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-09-10T23:01:18.804+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life lessons'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hardships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='disappointments'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='people'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='unrequited'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='heartaches'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='changes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='journey'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='abandonment'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='challenges'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='alone'/><title type='text'>At A First Glance</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-mZShrYgUOpM/Tmt5Mnt-CyI/AAAAAAAAAVE/2Q4-NjKqQ6Q/s1600/Listen_to_me_by_Ziolo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="214" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-mZShrYgUOpM/Tmt5Mnt-CyI/AAAAAAAAAVE/2Q4-NjKqQ6Q/s320/Listen_to_me_by_Ziolo.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;"hearing something that kills you from the inside&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;and having to act like you're fine&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;is one of the bravest things in the world."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://browse.deviantart.com/photography/?q=boy%20girl%20glance&amp;amp;order=9&amp;amp;offset=48#/d29xryx"&gt;x&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;why did you left me here so blue?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;why did you make me feel like i need you?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;you left me here, scarred and bleeding on the floor&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;as i saw you open the bedroom door.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;you were supposed to be &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"&gt;"the one,"&lt;/span&gt; my other half&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;for you always managed to make me laugh.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;oh, how i treasure those memories i have with you&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;since the day you started giving me clues.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;my heart blossomed since the day you began to notice me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;as i sleep each night full of glee.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;but my world started falling apart&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;when you finally admitted what's inside your yearning heart.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;i could've been the one to help you pick up the pieces that she broke&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;for i don't want to see you hang yourself on a rope.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;i am here, so give me a chance&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;for i never lost hope from the day you gave me that glance...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8709407208098549077-740393799594753399?l=champerez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/feeds/740393799594753399/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8709407208098549077&amp;postID=740393799594753399&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/740393799594753399'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/740393799594753399'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/2011/09/at-first-glance.html' title='At A First Glance'/><author><name>CHAM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05245062024591759542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_64dF58M5P7E/R-oDqztmPTI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/SG_kwaN4C4k/S220/cham.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-mZShrYgUOpM/Tmt5Mnt-CyI/AAAAAAAAAVE/2Q4-NjKqQ6Q/s72-c/Listen_to_me_by_Ziolo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total><georss:featurename>Philippines</georss:featurename><georss:point>8.754794702435618 123.75</georss:point><georss:box>-21.985354797564383 83.3203125 39.49494420243562 164.1796875</georss:box></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709407208098549077.post-8190486671499472449</id><published>2011-08-26T22:14:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-08-31T19:55:54.343+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='infatuation'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='crush'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>Terrified</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9vsWeQy2SrI/TlejBeU_t-I/AAAAAAAAAVA/kFSbm8e_e00/s1600/To_Write_Love_On_Her_Arms_by_alexthakid.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="304" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9vsWeQy2SrI/TlejBeU_t-I/AAAAAAAAAVA/kFSbm8e_e00/s320/To_Write_Love_On_Her_Arms_by_alexthakid.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;"you set it again, my heart's in motion,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;every word feels like a shooting star.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;...i am in love, i am terrified."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;-Katharine McPhee&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://browse.deviantart.com/?q=love&amp;amp;order=9&amp;amp;offset=384#/d17fd2r"&gt;x&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my prince, where have you been? my prince, i've been waiting for you and it feels like a sin. my prince, now that you're here, will you stay for good or leave whenever you feel like you should? my prince, fill my heart with love as i fill yours from the heavens above. my prince, i'm starting to like you every single day. my prince, please don't abandon me, if you may.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my prince, you're real and in front of me. my prince, you're everything i ask for and a little bit more. my prince, my knight, you cleared the darkness with your light. my prince, with your presence, i am intoxicated. my prince, your smell, so addictive. my prince, i'm here and i'm ready for any troubles we will be facing, my dear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my prince, i love you and i hope you love me, too. my prince, you've completed my world with your little signs of sincerity and tiny surprises. my prince, i am floating; thank you for making me feel this way. my prince, &amp;nbsp;you are endearing and you placed colors in my skies of grey. my prince, i am here and yours to keep. my prince, i'm glad you took the leap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my prince, i'm glad you like me just the way i am. my prince, i'm starting to get attached to you; well i'll be damned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TTFN&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8709407208098549077-8190486671499472449?l=champerez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/feeds/8190486671499472449/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8709407208098549077&amp;postID=8190486671499472449&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/8190486671499472449'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/8190486671499472449'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/2011/08/terrified.html' title='Terrified'/><author><name>CHAM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05245062024591759542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_64dF58M5P7E/R-oDqztmPTI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/SG_kwaN4C4k/S220/cham.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9vsWeQy2SrI/TlejBeU_t-I/AAAAAAAAAVA/kFSbm8e_e00/s72-c/To_Write_Love_On_Her_Arms_by_alexthakid.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709407208098549077.post-3085429819799471689</id><published>2011-08-09T20:59:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-08-09T20:59:25.277+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='infatuation'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='crush'/><title type='text'>Something is Not the Same</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-pZONsSmP7Ew/TkEoF6pxtSI/AAAAAAAAAU8/r2xHMhC-4Do/s1600/Love_by_MissKaylaRae.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-pZONsSmP7Ew/TkEoF6pxtSI/AAAAAAAAAU8/r2xHMhC-4Do/s320/Love_by_MissKaylaRae.jpg" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;"&lt;i&gt;If I had a single flower every time I think about you,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;I could walk forever in my garden."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;-Claudia Ghandi&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://browse.deviantart.com/photography/?q=love&amp;amp;order=9&amp;amp;offset=144#/dt8ews"&gt;x&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;there's something boiling deep inside me, something my heart is shouting oh so loudly. there's something boiling deep inside me, something i can't take so lightly. i hid around the corner, hoping these feelings i am having are fake. i hid around the corner hoping i could make it through this day. he looked at me, i looked back. his eyes, so expressive, i could not forget. his presence, so intoxicating, i could melt. i could stay in this dream forever, this moment will never be forgotten, not now, not ever.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;it started out as a lie, a fantasy that i badly want to give a try. he's standing in the middle of the room, wishing just for once that what i'm feeling isn't one sided. he's standing in the middle of the room, and suddenly, my day brightened. he's there.. i can feel him. he's there within my reach. he's there right in front of me.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;i want to talk to him, to prolong this moment. i want to talk to him, to make this long enough for me to remember. there are times i just stare at him and bask at his glory. there are times where i just spaced out and all i could think about was him and me -- in the moonlight.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;one touch and it send shivers down my spine. one touch and every nerve inside of me comes alive. one touch and i know he could be the one.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;TTFN.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8709407208098549077-3085429819799471689?l=champerez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/feeds/3085429819799471689/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8709407208098549077&amp;postID=3085429819799471689&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/3085429819799471689'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/3085429819799471689'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/2011/08/something-is-not-same.html' title='Something is Not the Same'/><author><name>CHAM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05245062024591759542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_64dF58M5P7E/R-oDqztmPTI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/SG_kwaN4C4k/S220/cham.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-pZONsSmP7Ew/TkEoF6pxtSI/AAAAAAAAAU8/r2xHMhC-4Do/s72-c/Love_by_MissKaylaRae.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709407208098549077.post-5263078207259505862</id><published>2011-07-27T22:42:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-07-27T22:42:16.848+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='journey'/><title type='text'>I'm Already Dead and I'll Rise to Fall Again</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5r21j4AmAy8/Ti_8SLExdJI/AAAAAAAAAU4/bMITc0qacTE/s1600/trapped_by_skulldude666.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5r21j4AmAy8/Ti_8SLExdJI/AAAAAAAAAU4/bMITc0qacTE/s320/trapped_by_skulldude666.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;"i'm all out of breath,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;my walls are closing in..."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;-Breaking Benjamin&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://browse.deviantart.com/?qh=&amp;amp;section=&amp;amp;q=trapped#/d1iq3mn"&gt;x&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;i sat down the floor, grabbing my knees. the room i'm in was starting to get smaller. the air was getting thiner by the second. i cannot breathe. my lungs were about to collapse, i was thirsty for air.&lt;i&gt; "what is this?" &lt;/i&gt;i said to myself. i cannot fathom the situation that i got myself into. trapped with nowhere to go.&lt;i&gt; "wake up, wake up, please wake up"&lt;/i&gt; i said to myself repeatedly but i didn't wake up. i cannot wake up.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;the noise was getting louder and my mind kept telling me to bang every wall but my body didn't respond. i just sat there, with hands covering my ears to lessen the eerie sound the walls created as they were about to spat me. then silence came. i opened my eyes and i realized i wasn't in the room anymore. the walls no longer moved and i gave out a huge sigh of relief knowing i wasn't going to die soon.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;i saw a light by the distance. as i started walking to follow the light, the light moved farther and farther. it was shining like a diamond and i can't take my eyes off of it. it was drawing me in; like an addiction. it was hard to deny that i was attracted to this beautiful shimmering light but sadness overflowed through me when i realized i could never reach it. tired of walking, i sat down, contemplated on my surroundings and came to notice that there's nothing around. i was in a place where everything is covered with white paint. no furniture, no trees, no sky. nothing. i looked at the light and saw that it was just standing there, glowing, waiting for me to chase it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;i kept walking and walking and finally i saw a door. i opened it and peeked inside. i saw someone looking out the window. not wanting to disturb the person, i decided to close the door. &lt;i&gt;"wait"&lt;/i&gt; he said. i opened the door again, curious of what this person wants to tell me.&lt;i&gt; "pursue it"&lt;/i&gt; he told me. confused, i asked in reply, &lt;i&gt;"what exactly?"&lt;/i&gt; then he no longer said another word and then he closed the door.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;the light never left. it was still there, shimmering like a gem. and i, still addicted to its glow, wants it so badly. i kept thinking of what the man has said to me. "pursue it" he said. but still clueless, i was having a hard time figuring out what he told me. its like a riddle only with lesser words.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;i heard a singing voice. it was so beautiful that it was hard not to cry. it was the voice of a girl. and i can tell just by listening to it that she's in deep sorrow. wanting to know who she was, the light started to glow brighter and brighter. i was so smitten by the light that i forgot about the singing girl. i kept on walking until finally, the light stopped moving. i ran towards it, wanting to devour every piece of it. as i was coming close, i sense a lot of emptiness in my heart. it was so hollow i had to get a hold of it. i clutched my heart, as if i was in deep pain. i curled down, breathing hard and closing my eyes. the light was sucking every piece of me. breathing was hard again and i was gasping for air. i heard a faint sound. like a scream.&lt;i&gt; "was it the singing girl screaming?"&lt;/i&gt; i thought to myself. i wanted to comfort her, tell her i'm here, regardless of the fact that we're both strangers to each other. but still, &amp;nbsp;it was selfish of me to disdain her. i could never forgive myself. &lt;i&gt;"what could've happened to her? was she in the same state as i am?"&lt;/i&gt; that i will never know.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;after a few hours or so, i saw no more light. i wasn't in the white place anymore. i looked up and saw a guy carrying me. we were walking. he saw me then he flashed me a smile. i can hear his heart beating. it sounded beautiful -- like a beating drum. his arms were hard like a rock and his body temperature was so warm that i can feel his heat on my face. on what it seems like a beautiful sight, it wasn't. storm came in and we hid on an abandoned warehouse. he tucked me in his arms. without even knowing the man, not even his name, i can sense his aura -- so beautiful and heartwarming. he was someone i could trust.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;i woke up alone. i kept looking for the man but he was out of sight. saddened by his disappearance, i stayed there for a couple more days, thinking on what has happened. bizarre as the situations were, i could feel that there was a purpose of my journey. &lt;i&gt;"pursue it" &lt;/i&gt;the man said to me. i kept saying it in my mind until i realized that in order for me to make it to the destination, i need to take risks, be brave and just pursue everything that feels right. i know that this is the answer to his riddle. i have yet to reach my destination and challenges are ahead of me, testing me, waiting for me to fail.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;TTFN.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8709407208098549077-5263078207259505862?l=champerez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/feeds/5263078207259505862/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8709407208098549077&amp;postID=5263078207259505862&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/5263078207259505862'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/5263078207259505862'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/2011/07/im-already-dead-and-ill-rise-to-fall.html' title='I&apos;m Already Dead and I&apos;ll Rise to Fall Again'/><author><name>CHAM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05245062024591759542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_64dF58M5P7E/R-oDqztmPTI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/SG_kwaN4C4k/S220/cham.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5r21j4AmAy8/Ti_8SLExdJI/AAAAAAAAAU4/bMITc0qacTE/s72-c/trapped_by_skulldude666.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709407208098549077.post-3379938005425395376</id><published>2011-07-06T21:34:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-07-07T01:33:45.729+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='second choice'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='left behind'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='abandonment'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='attention'/><title type='text'>With You, I Have Zero Strength</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-91yUrOH31_U/ThRb_6pI-9I/AAAAAAAAAU0/U85DvBl3H5M/s1600/what_is_left_behind_by_alexaidonidis-d3eu6er.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="212" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-91yUrOH31_U/ThRb_6pI-9I/AAAAAAAAAU0/U85DvBl3H5M/s320/what_is_left_behind_by_alexaidonidis-d3eu6er.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;"&lt;i&gt;sometimes you've got to run away to see who will run after you.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;sometimes you've got to talk quieter to see who's really listening.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;sometimes you've got to step up to fight only to see&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;who's standing by your side.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;sometimes you've got to make a wrong decision&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;only to see who's there&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;to help you fix it.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;sometimes you've got to let go of the one you love just to see&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;if they love you&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;enough to come back."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://browse.deviantart.com/photography/?qh=&amp;amp;section=&amp;amp;q=left+behind#/d3eu6er"&gt;x&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;not always the first but always the last. not always the lead but the understudy. always the spare, always the replacement, always the second choice. i could never get mad at him -- at least not that long. the way he flashes me his smile; it melts my heart. the way he holds me sends little electric shocks down my spine. his touch lingers on my skin. his scent, i could never erase. i could listen to his voice and not get tired of it. i long for his company. i long to listen to his soft laugh that i could never get enough.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;with him, i'm nothing but a spare tire. i'm sitting at the back seat just waiting for him to notice me and this usually happens when he has no one to lean on to. i want to be part of his life, to be someone worthy enough for his precious time. i don't want the back seat. not anymore. somehow, i don't want to push myself just so i can be part of his life. i want him to let me be part of it and not cave my way in.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;i'm standing here and he doesn't take notice. i see him but he doesn't see me.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;other than that, i want nothing more but his attention. this unrequited love i can handle but not me being small enough not to be seen by his naked eyes. a single hello, a simple text reply or even a small touch and everything will be fine.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;TTFN.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8709407208098549077-3379938005425395376?l=champerez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/feeds/3379938005425395376/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8709407208098549077&amp;postID=3379938005425395376&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/3379938005425395376'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/3379938005425395376'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/2011/07/with-you-i-have-zero-strength.html' title='With You, I Have Zero Strength'/><author><name>CHAM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05245062024591759542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_64dF58M5P7E/R-oDqztmPTI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/SG_kwaN4C4k/S220/cham.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-91yUrOH31_U/ThRb_6pI-9I/AAAAAAAAAU0/U85DvBl3H5M/s72-c/what_is_left_behind_by_alexaidonidis-d3eu6er.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709407208098549077.post-2276672052405692162</id><published>2011-07-03T20:11:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-08-10T22:06:13.323+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dreams'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='confusion'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='crossroads'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>The Abyss</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NPwE97JKKIU/ThBVaY4nICI/AAAAAAAAAUw/07UYUZi2uEc/s1600/falling__by_anjart.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="205" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NPwE97JKKIU/ThBVaY4nICI/AAAAAAAAAUw/07UYUZi2uEc/s320/falling__by_anjart.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;"if it's worth the risk, take the fall.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;if it's what you want, it is worth it all."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://browse.deviantart.com/photography/?qh=&amp;amp;section=&amp;amp;q=falling#/d1pdz4u"&gt;x&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;there once was a girl who was so certain of herself. she packed her things and left everyone behind in pursuit of her dreams. she walked a long narrow road with nothing but hope to bring. there she stood on a crossroad who she thought she was familiar of. but as darkness fell and with no light to spare, she was clueless yet again. she head on west hoping she took the right road to travel. still clueless of what's beyond, she clutched her heart and continued to walk on.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;then she reached a tree who bore golden apples. thinking that this was her easy way out, she climbed the tree and took many apples she could carry. when rain fell hard and the clear blue sky turned dark and unholy, she ran for her life with nothing but apples to carry. she hid on a cave and decided to pass the time until nature is on her side and bring out the brightest sun.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;as she woke up the next morning, she saw her apples melting. without it attached to its branches, it is as useless as a person with no dreams. she stood up and came out of the cave only to find out she's on a meadow as beautiful as the sunlight hits her face.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;she continued her journey with desire and passion burning in her chest. as she passed by towns and met people from different places, she realized the world is full of treasures waiting to be discovered. she ran, feeling the gush of the wind on her face, wanting to be as free as a bird flying in the clear blue cloudless sky. she screamed so hard, releasing her inhibitions -- she couldn't be more happy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;months went by and still clinging on her dreams, she reached a cliff. looking down, she swear she could see hell and can hear demons chanting her name. she left everyone behind without even considering their emotions, she realized she was being self-centered. rain falling hard from the sky, she turned her back and decided to walk home thinking of pursuing her dream from another time without having to hurt anyone in her journey.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;TTFN.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8709407208098549077-2276672052405692162?l=champerez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/feeds/2276672052405692162/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8709407208098549077&amp;postID=2276672052405692162&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/2276672052405692162'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/2276672052405692162'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/2011/07/if-its-worth-risk-take-fall.html' title='The Abyss'/><author><name>CHAM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05245062024591759542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_64dF58M5P7E/R-oDqztmPTI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/SG_kwaN4C4k/S220/cham.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NPwE97JKKIU/ThBVaY4nICI/AAAAAAAAAUw/07UYUZi2uEc/s72-c/falling__by_anjart.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709407208098549077.post-2335819946942075369</id><published>2011-06-17T20:30:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-17T20:30:00.561+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='reality'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>The Search is Over</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VJDGkcVoS1k/TftCHmiibfI/AAAAAAAAAUs/WoVMY2qbB78/s1600/Tough_Guy_by_Smugface.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VJDGkcVoS1k/TftCHmiibfI/AAAAAAAAAUs/WoVMY2qbB78/s320/Tough_Guy_by_Smugface.jpg" width="215" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;"sometimes in life, we just have to accept the way things are&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;when you can't change them.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;it's hard but you'll either learn to let go or get used to it altogether.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;at the end of the day, it's all the same heartache,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;but it's how you deal with it that makes the difference."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://browse.deviantart.com/photography/?qh=&amp;amp;section=&amp;amp;q=guy#/d2jbg79"&gt;x&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I remember back then, after reading all of those fairy tales where a handsome prince would swept the princess off her feet, that I've always secretly wanted to have my own tiara, live in an enchanted castle, have godmothers grant my wishes and have this chivalrous prince who would defy the laws of gravity, slay a dragon and wake me up from my very deep slumber through his kiss. it has always been like that ever since.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;having to experience heartache, abandonment, confusion and despair, slowly i realized that princes aren't real (at least not the casual ones) and having my feet swept off by a handsome prince was way beyond my imagination. surely, it doesn't hurt to dream but in this sad excuse of a love life, i think it's time to snap back into reality.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;we know how beautiful love is from romantic chic lit books to sappy movies. it's as if their life is full of it -- full of love, kindness and thoughtfulness. but the reality is, we don't usually get the handsome chivalrous fellow that is described in the books. if you're a Twilight fan, you don't get Edward Cullen nor Jacob Black for that matter. and no, you don't get to have Harry Potter who is always there to save the day. as a matter of fact, we get to have the Darth Vader-ish guy. he may not be soul-less but he's not a gentleman, either. he's there but not really -- he's just lustful and wants to take control of every situation. he's the alpha male and alpha males do what they do best: command and lead.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;because we're too hung up on having the perfect novel love story, we don't. boys will forever be boys and girls will forever create dramas and make big deals of every little things. we don't get to have the perfect love story, the good guy, the enchanted castle and magical creatures. no, but instead we get to have tall buildings, cell phones and emails, a short walk in the park or in the romantic side note of it all, a candle lit dinner. that is all and if you're lucky enough, someone is right out there for you who would slay a dragon or a basilisk and propose on jumbotrons, then grab him and never ever let him go.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;i know this isn't like my previous posts where it rhymes or is sort off poetic in some ways. forgive me for my lack of creativity but i think a topic like this especially a topic where i strongly believe in shouldn't need fancy words or rhymes. it needs to be straight up and down right smack in the face.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8709407208098549077-2335819946942075369?l=champerez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/feeds/2335819946942075369/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8709407208098549077&amp;postID=2335819946942075369&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/2335819946942075369'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/2335819946942075369'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/2011/06/search-is-over.html' title='The Search is Over'/><author><name>CHAM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05245062024591759542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_64dF58M5P7E/R-oDqztmPTI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/SG_kwaN4C4k/S220/cham.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VJDGkcVoS1k/TftCHmiibfI/AAAAAAAAAUs/WoVMY2qbB78/s72-c/Tough_Guy_by_Smugface.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709407208098549077.post-8014130976085455276</id><published>2011-05-15T22:42:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-15T22:42:40.990+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='frustrations'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='maze'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='obstacles'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='challenges'/><title type='text'>SAVE ME FROM THE NOTHING I'VE BECOME</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7ZuH21A2MrU/Tc_eSyWnkCI/AAAAAAAAAUo/A31FHdRziUs/s1600/Biography_of_my_silence__v_3_by_mybittersweetness.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="197" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7ZuH21A2MrU/Tc_eSyWnkCI/AAAAAAAAAUo/A31FHdRziUs/s320/Biography_of_my_silence__v_3_by_mybittersweetness.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;"music speaks what cannot be expressed,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;soothes the mind and gives it rest,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;heals the heart and makes it whole,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;flows from heaven to the soul."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://browse.deviantart.com/photography/?q=silence&amp;amp;order=9&amp;amp;offset=24#/d15rxss"&gt;x&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;i wanna write songs and express my feelings but all i have are words with no melodies. i've been silenced far too long, trapped in a corner with nowhere to go. confused on who to trust and follow, doubts started to linger, finding hope to be enlightened in this world full of strangers. music is my only escape -- to at least imagine that i am free. in that short of a second that i am away, i can see the earth as i may.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;imagination running wild, music volume put on high. i am in my isolation cell with thoughts running deep as a well. i hope to inspire people my age especially those who find themselves trapped in a cage. not just words in writing but i simply wanna add melodies to the things i am thinking.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;being hindered is what i find frustrating -- in a box, in the corner, in a cell with nowhere to go, i feel trapped in the rabbit hole. these melodies i can't seem to create keeps pushing me into finding something else great. i feel drowned by silence -- imprisoned in a pool that comes with a fence. i lost my edge coz never did i know how to quit; but this challenge slapped me in the face with no hope of finding a way out of this maze.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;TTFN.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&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/8709407208098549077-8014130976085455276?l=champerez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/feeds/8014130976085455276/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8709407208098549077&amp;postID=8014130976085455276&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/8014130976085455276'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/8014130976085455276'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/2011/05/save-me-from-nothing-ive-become.html' title='SAVE ME FROM THE NOTHING I&apos;VE BECOME'/><author><name>CHAM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05245062024591759542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_64dF58M5P7E/R-oDqztmPTI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/SG_kwaN4C4k/S220/cham.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7ZuH21A2MrU/Tc_eSyWnkCI/AAAAAAAAAUo/A31FHdRziUs/s72-c/Biography_of_my_silence__v_3_by_mybittersweetness.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709407208098549077.post-4529364632627110466</id><published>2011-04-05T00:33:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-05T00:33:03.984+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='disappointments'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sadness'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='people'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hurt'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='chill.'/><title type='text'>Story of My Life</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MpI3NAjScKk/TZnecA6kagI/AAAAAAAAAUk/rNR7fyJoA94/s1600/ff8aa29f95b4cc97c8d58dba81e2650e.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="213" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MpI3NAjScKk/TZnecA6kagI/AAAAAAAAAUk/rNR7fyJoA94/s320/ff8aa29f95b4cc97c8d58dba81e2650e.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;"the girl who seemed unbreakable -- broke.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;the girl who seemed so strong -- crumbled.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;the girl who always laughed it off -- cried.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;and the girl who never stop trying, finally gave up."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://browse.deviantart.com/photography/?q=depression&amp;amp;order=9&amp;amp;offset=24#/d1ppp7o"&gt;x&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hurtful words, stabbing knives, broken bones and fractured hopes. no more shall i settle from the mockery you showed. you're supposed to care, to help me carry on but you're doing the opposite and i am finding it hard to move on. acid words, never-ending doubts -- i wish to be free from this place where you imprisoned me to be. i could never understand why you're always pulling me down. with the attitude you showed, i wish not to be around you anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i cry at night and never will you know how those insults you gave hurts me to the core. you're far too insensitive to what people might feel. somehow i wish you could see how broken i came to be. regardless of my struggles i tried to stand strong -- try to let people show how invincible i want to become. but really, deep down inside, i am crumbling into pieces with no way of knowing how to escape this madness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;never goes a day where i don't feel worthless. i am tired of telling myself that i am someone worth believing. not a minute goes by where i don't contemplate on what you have said and yes, they are just words but i'd rather be physically bruised. no more pain and feelings of helplessness coz i wish for the day to look at the mirror and be happy and contented of what i am seeing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;somehow, you always get the worst in me. must so you know that i am not your puppet and this is not a stage. never did i experience freedom never did i experience care. your clutches are too tight that it feels like i'm in jail. too much judgment, too much hate, too much of everything that i could never take.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i cover my ears as you abuse me verbally, i grip my chest -- shielding my heart from the pain it will feel. just let me go and understand that i don't want to be a part of your so-called promise land. i want to disappear away from everybody. away from confrontations, lies and pretends. i want to start anew, create a life where i can grow and be the person i once loved and knew.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i wipe my tears but they still keep on falling, no longer will i feel useless coz from this moment on, i shall make my skin as thick as a stone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TTFN.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8709407208098549077-4529364632627110466?l=champerez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/feeds/4529364632627110466/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8709407208098549077&amp;postID=4529364632627110466&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/4529364632627110466'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/4529364632627110466'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/2011/04/story-of-my-life.html' title='Story of My Life'/><author><name>CHAM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05245062024591759542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_64dF58M5P7E/R-oDqztmPTI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/SG_kwaN4C4k/S220/cham.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MpI3NAjScKk/TZnecA6kagI/AAAAAAAAAUk/rNR7fyJoA94/s72-c/ff8aa29f95b4cc97c8d58dba81e2650e.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709407208098549077.post-7209561893270345493</id><published>2011-03-17T23:20:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2011-03-22T20:56:53.420+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dreams'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='prince'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='reality'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>IT WAS ENCHANTING TO MEET YOU</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-Pt0quo5FbK4/TYIiDNV0WEI/AAAAAAAAAUg/YIAaMVvPxz0/s1600/vintage_little_prince_by_tecpatl68.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="228" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-Pt0quo5FbK4/TYIiDNV0WEI/AAAAAAAAAUg/YIAaMVvPxz0/s320/vintage_little_prince_by_tecpatl68.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;"I kissed a lot of frogs as well, but no,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;I kissed a lot of frogs and now I've found my prince."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;-Joan Collins&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://browse.deviantart.com/photography/?qh=&amp;amp;section=&amp;amp;q=prince#/d16oxg1"&gt;x&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;riding on his white stallion, my heart skipped a beat. i could not resist the emotions i felt. he looked so handsome, so untouchable, so true. a man with sheer talents, a man every girl wants to own. more than ordinary, he's not like any human being, for i see him someone holy -- someone sent to me so i could feel love and be lost in a daze.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;he was kind and took no shame in showing chivalry. more and more i fell into deep with this man standing before me, showing me nothing but pure sincerity. girls swooned as he passed -- it is not hard to notice since he shines from the pack. with his hair pushed back and the cool scent he's wearing, i could not resist but be pulled by his presence.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;this man, right here, i could not even believe existed has shown me a great deal of kindness for it is in his nature to be kind and show no disrespect to anyone. i want him more than ever coz he made me feel great not like the guys i met before. he sure is unique and a rare stone to find; but when found, it is worth the while.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;i could not help but gush every time he mentions my name, for it is then i knew he was thinking of me, too. i would do anything for him, anything i could offer, for i want to be in his life and not just for the time being but for as long as forever is true.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;he stared at me with those beautiful chocolate eyes. there's nothing i could do but melt and feel the tingling sensation that was coming down my spine. those eyes which screamed honesty looked deep into me and through my soul. he held my hand and whispered words in my ear and then my eyes grew big from the words he uttered. i was struck and caught off guard, but then i realized there's more to life than wanting to be his wife. as i watched him climbed up his stallion, i could hear my heart shattering into pieces; but then again, without him having entered my life, love and i would have never met.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;TTFN.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8709407208098549077-7209561893270345493?l=champerez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/feeds/7209561893270345493/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8709407208098549077&amp;postID=7209561893270345493&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/7209561893270345493'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/7209561893270345493'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/2011/03/i-kissed-lot-of-frogs-as-well-but-no-i.html' title='IT WAS ENCHANTING TO MEET YOU'/><author><name>CHAM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05245062024591759542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_64dF58M5P7E/R-oDqztmPTI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/SG_kwaN4C4k/S220/cham.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-Pt0quo5FbK4/TYIiDNV0WEI/AAAAAAAAAUg/YIAaMVvPxz0/s72-c/vintage_little_prince_by_tecpatl68.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709407208098549077.post-5931049478629446848</id><published>2011-02-26T15:09:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-02-26T15:09:23.886+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='emotions'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='frustrations'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='anger'/><title type='text'>Break Glass</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-ggVoQOuQk2I/TWideStYnRI/AAAAAAAAAUY/2-9Ry5cQtJc/s1600/anger_2_by_GodlyToy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-ggVoQOuQk2I/TWideStYnRI/AAAAAAAAAUY/2-9Ry5cQtJc/s320/anger_2_by_GodlyToy.jpg" width="218" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;"anger is never without a reason,&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;but seldom with a good one."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;-Benjamin Franklin&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://browse.deviantart.com/?q=anger&amp;amp;order=9&amp;amp;offset=120#/d1by1wh"&gt;x&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;i am mad but i can't show it. i am frustrated but i am trying to hide it. i am sad but i am showing a happy face. with this, my emotions are distorted. somehow, i want to break down and just cry myself to sleep. or better yet, i want to scream on top of my lungs until i am out of breath.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;walls come crashing down as i feel all these mixed emotions inside. i want to go out of hiding and just bitch to all the people who has caused me pain. i might not deserve happiness but i don't deserve much pain either. i want to feel contend with what life has given me but i always fall short, always out of luck, always hurting.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;with that in mind, i want to be free. free from all the misery and all the unsaid emotions i push down inside of me. i want to end this repression and i want to feel how great it is to have an outspoken mind. without grudges, without hurt and without being trapped inside one's own anger.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;TTFN.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8709407208098549077-5931049478629446848?l=champerez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/feeds/5931049478629446848/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8709407208098549077&amp;postID=5931049478629446848&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/5931049478629446848'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/5931049478629446848'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/2011/02/break-glass.html' title='Break Glass'/><author><name>CHAM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05245062024591759542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_64dF58M5P7E/R-oDqztmPTI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/SG_kwaN4C4k/S220/cham.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-ggVoQOuQk2I/TWideStYnRI/AAAAAAAAAUY/2-9Ry5cQtJc/s72-c/anger_2_by_GodlyToy.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709407208098549077.post-322272277414635394</id><published>2011-01-15T20:20:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-01-15T20:23:43.338+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life lessons'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='abandonment'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='realizations'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='alone'/><title type='text'>Beautifully Tragic</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/TTE2nTL0jwI/AAAAAAAAAUE/9BzORNeHX4A/s1600/Traitor_by_KulaNaLesnik.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/TTE2nTL0jwI/AAAAAAAAAUE/9BzORNeHX4A/s320/Traitor_by_KulaNaLesnik.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;"&lt;i&gt;dealing with backstabbers, one thing I learned,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;they're only powerful when you got your back turned."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;-Eminem&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://browse.deviantart.com/photography/?qh=&amp;amp;section=&amp;amp;q=traitor#/d1hjhn9"&gt;x&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;people staring at me, whispering words i can't hear. then, someone i used to know approached me and hit me hard. it was painful, something i can't bear. the pain caused me to bend down my knees. i was bleeding -- not just from the outside but on the inside, too. i never thought it would hurt this way. one single knife turned out to be ten thousand knives pierced inside of me. there was heavy bleeding. i watched the blood flow out of my system and down on the floor. i wanted to touch it but it was too late.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;badly bruised, i continue living my life. i build up walls and i shut down doors to keep people from my past away from me. i wanted a new beginning, a new slate and as much as i try to do this, the memories of my past haunts me. it was easy to imagine myself forgetting it but i was struggling halfway through it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;no one ever helped me or asked me if i was in need of assistance. i was unaccompanied throughout the journey and it was that moment i knew who and what to trust, to depend on and share my life with. it was that moment i realized that i was strong enough to walk away from something so dark and cruel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i was alone, heck i was. and in those days where everybody left me in abandonment, i saw the world and found out different strategies on how to survive the trails i was about to face. nothing but hope, strength and dignity, i went out from my isolation cell and welcomed the world with a smile. i was afraid because nobody really likes to be betrayed especially from those people whom you spend most of your teenage life with. it was hard but i kept going on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;with nothing to lose and whole lot to fear, i came in strong and willful. people didn't know i was shattered. i never did have any reason on picking up the pieces of my broken self. i managed to make a new one, a re-invention. i locked away every bad memory that hurts me and open a new trove to place in memories i want to keep. somehow, i was happy. i may not have enough people to support me but what's important is that i met people and those people i met while i was re-programming myself made me realize that it is better to let go of my sad past and stay in the present.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i lost people in my way of finding myself but at least, i didn't lose me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TTFN.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8709407208098549077-322272277414635394?l=champerez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/feeds/322272277414635394/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8709407208098549077&amp;postID=322272277414635394&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/322272277414635394'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/322272277414635394'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/2011/01/beautifully-tragic.html' title='Beautifully Tragic'/><author><name>CHAM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05245062024591759542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_64dF58M5P7E/R-oDqztmPTI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/SG_kwaN4C4k/S220/cham.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/TTE2nTL0jwI/AAAAAAAAAUE/9BzORNeHX4A/s72-c/Traitor_by_KulaNaLesnik.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709407208098549077.post-2500654883514903244</id><published>2010-12-27T21:49:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-12-27T22:00:36.919+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='death'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='journey'/><title type='text'>Hotel California</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/TRc5maWYTjI/AAAAAAAAAUA/GbjB62kS0MM/s1600/Reaper1_by_Alt_Images.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" n4="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/TRc5maWYTjI/AAAAAAAAAUA/GbjB62kS0MM/s320/Reaper1_by_Alt_Images.jpg" width="225" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;"The body apologizes to the soul for its errors, and the soul ask forgiveness&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;for squatting in the body without invitation."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;﻿-Gregory Maguire, Wicked&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://browse.deviantart.com/?q=reaper&amp;amp;order=9&amp;amp;offset=96#/d13aozf"&gt;x&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a part of me died inside. a part of me that kept me whole and alive. it was that part of me where everything in life is worth living and it was that part of me where i knew how to feel deeply -- to sympathize and love, to comfort&amp;nbsp;and to see the world in a humantistic perspective.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;now that it is gone, everything else went dark. i see people dying all the time and the world seems to be a very cruel place to live. everyone is killing one another, people cursing and stabbing knives at each others' backs. it was a painful sight to see and yet very inevitable to change. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;i used to be more than invisible but now i am transparent. people see and pass through me and because of this, frustration over powers me. i could not do anything to stop this madness. i was nothing more but a ghostly figure lurking in the shadows of this barbaric world. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;for a moment, i thought it was a dream, an excuse i want myself to believe so that i can escape the madness that has been happening but i know for once that it is not true but still a part of me wants to believe it is.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;on a crossroad where i found myself standing, an image of another human emerged from a distance. could she see me? hear me? or maybe help me? as she was close enough, she&amp;nbsp;stared at me from head to toe and then she looked at me with pure sincerity, as if she was asking for forgiveness. i was confused but then she took my hand and we started walking. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;i never knew where she was taking me. still holding my hand, i was silent throughout the entire journey. and then it hit me -- she's trying to help me put out my misery. she was reaping me and from that moment on, i knew what was happening and what is going to happen. from that moment on, i knew where we're headed -- in&amp;nbsp;a place where she considers a paradise and in a place where i consider a nightmare. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;TTFN.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8709407208098549077-2500654883514903244?l=champerez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/feeds/2500654883514903244/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8709407208098549077&amp;postID=2500654883514903244&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/2500654883514903244'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/2500654883514903244'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/2010/12/body-apologizes-to-soul-for-its-errors.html' title='Hotel California'/><author><name>CHAM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05245062024591759542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_64dF58M5P7E/R-oDqztmPTI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/SG_kwaN4C4k/S220/cham.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/TRc5maWYTjI/AAAAAAAAAUA/GbjB62kS0MM/s72-c/Reaper1_by_Alt_Images.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709407208098549077.post-9186216992739913151</id><published>2010-11-20T23:06:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-11-20T23:10:23.010+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pain'/><title type='text'>Light Up the Candle</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/TOfdJK72ITI/AAAAAAAAAT4/bAeUOftKWuY/s1600/Sensuality_by_danmyou2_by_madpimp350.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" ox="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/TOfdJK72ITI/AAAAAAAAAT4/bAeUOftKWuY/s320/Sensuality_by_danmyou2_by_madpimp350.jpg" width="215" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;"to be thirsty and to drink water is sensuality rarely achieved.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;sometimes you drink water; other times you are thirsty."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;-Jose Bergamin&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://browse.deviantart.com/?q=sensuality&amp;amp;order=9&amp;amp;offset=120#/ddq0zi"&gt;x﻿&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;he caressed my legs up to my neck. his soft fingers running to my body, slowly touching me, making me feel so exhilarated. i was blown away on how good he was on knowing the most sensitive parts of my body. i was on fire and my body was about to burn.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;i ran my fingers down his spine and out of excitement, i scratched his back with my long finger nails leaving bruises for him to tend to. he was sweating and so was i. it was the moment we've been waiting. our perfect night. the night we imagined for so long.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;he held me close, so tight that it was hard to breathe. his hands were on my head slowly touching my hair. savoring every moment of it, i closed my eyes, hoping this night&amp;nbsp;wasn't going to end.&amp;nbsp;he kissed my cheeks down to my shoulders.&amp;nbsp;the feeling was so great&amp;nbsp;that he literally left be breatheless.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;i was grasping for air, trying to remember how to breathe right. as i opened my eyes, i saw his beautiful eyes&amp;nbsp;gazing&amp;nbsp;at me as if he was looking at my&amp;nbsp;soul, reading my thoughts and deciphering my expressions. he stood before me, holding&amp;nbsp;the back of my head&amp;nbsp;and thrusting it to his chest, making me listen&amp;nbsp;to the beat of his heart. it was fast. and right then and there, i knew he was nervous all along.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;he kept on touching me, making me feel that tingling sensation. i could not ask for more. he has given me enough to actually take in for one day. he was here with me, holding me close and never letting me go. his body so close to mine, his heart beating fast and his eyes were on me, never letting me out of his sight. i smiled at him and he smiled back and no one could ever take that away from me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;for the first time in a very long time, i felt secured. with him right by my side, we could surpass every storm that was coming our way. he was shield and i was his. we were together and with that, nothing could ever tear us apart. i was happy. we were happy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;and then as i opened my eyes, i saw the light&amp;nbsp;from the sun. i searched the room and he wasn't there. then i realized it was too good to be true. my fantasy made it feel like it was my reality and my nightmare became something i could never escape.&amp;nbsp;as i take in the pain of something that could be almost real, i took a deep breath, and finally let it go. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;﻿&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;TTFN.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8709407208098549077-9186216992739913151?l=champerez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/feeds/9186216992739913151/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8709407208098549077&amp;postID=9186216992739913151&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/9186216992739913151'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/9186216992739913151'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/2010/11/light-up-candle.html' title='Light Up the Candle'/><author><name>CHAM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05245062024591759542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_64dF58M5P7E/R-oDqztmPTI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/SG_kwaN4C4k/S220/cham.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/TOfdJK72ITI/AAAAAAAAAT4/bAeUOftKWuY/s72-c/Sensuality_by_danmyou2_by_madpimp350.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709407208098549077.post-1820043900984953380</id><published>2010-11-03T13:18:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-11-03T13:21:11.528+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life lessons'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='blog'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='wisdom'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='learnings'/><title type='text'>Emotions in Writing</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/TNDqZ10y8PI/AAAAAAAAAT0/csXETKbPe5o/s1600/Writing_by_dybern.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" nx="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/TNDqZ10y8PI/AAAAAAAAAT0/csXETKbPe5o/s320/Writing_by_dybern.jpg" width="208" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;"the role of a writer is not to say what we all can say, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;but what we are unable to say"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;-﻿Anaïs Nin&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://browse.deviantart.com/?qh=&amp;amp;section=&amp;amp;q=writing#/d17a814"&gt;x&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;the most beautiful words in life are not created because it has to be done. no, the most beautiful words in life exist for the reason that people say what they feel and not just because they want to. it's because they have to.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;this is not going to be just like my previous entries. this is all me -- minus the creativity.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;never did i imagine keeping a blog this long. as i read my old posts, i can see how much i have fully grown and how much wisdom i was able to attain. i was a girl whose emotions have been played with. love was not my friend and up until now, love and i are still trying to patch things up. i guess i have to thank love for the pain he gave me. if i didn't experience those things, i guess i would still be a sad little weakling crying in the corner of the room, grapsing my thorned heart and trying to breathe right.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;as i look at my past, i can say i already gained enough knowledge in this game they called life. i was able to survive it's challenges and now i am halfway through my journey in completing the goal i have set for myself. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;the words i wrote here in my blog are all real. they may sound vague sometimes but never did i lie&amp;nbsp;to myself&amp;nbsp;so that i can just post something. everything here is all me. i don't have to think on what to say. every posts here&amp;nbsp;came from my mind the moment i am inspired or just want to share something i think no one could ever understand. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;i am an odd person. i don't like sharing my inner most feelings to my friends but i rather want to put them here in writing and in public. i could never understand why, though but this is my comfort zone and my blog holds everything i feel inside.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;TTFN.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;﻿&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8709407208098549077-1820043900984953380?l=champerez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/feeds/1820043900984953380/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8709407208098549077&amp;postID=1820043900984953380&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/1820043900984953380'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/1820043900984953380'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/2010/11/role-of-writer-is-not-to-say-what-we.html' title='Emotions in Writing'/><author><name>CHAM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05245062024591759542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_64dF58M5P7E/R-oDqztmPTI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/SG_kwaN4C4k/S220/cham.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/TNDqZ10y8PI/AAAAAAAAAT0/csXETKbPe5o/s72-c/Writing_by_dybern.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709407208098549077.post-6517575033333814249</id><published>2010-10-19T23:26:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-10-19T23:28:31.493+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='new'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='changes'/><title type='text'>In Cloud 9</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/TL2xFkN4FdI/AAAAAAAAATw/c3zozFbMn7Q/s1600/Fear____by_Murderdoll17.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" ex="true" height="252" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/TL2xFkN4FdI/AAAAAAAAATw/c3zozFbMn7Q/s320/Fear____by_Murderdoll17.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;"sometimes, i feel the fear of uncertainty stinging clear. and I can't help but ask myself&amp;nbsp;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;how much I let the fear take the wheel and steer.﻿ It's driven me before and it seems &lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;to have a vague, haunting mass appeal. But lately I'm beginning to find that I &lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;should be the one behind the wheel."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;-Incubus, Drive&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://browse.deviantart.com/?qh=&amp;amp;section=&amp;amp;q=fear#/diqv4w"&gt;x&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;i live in sorrow, scorned by my past actions, forever tormented by the people i love and hurt. i was in a trance and i had a very hard time finding my way to snap back into reality and face the demons that are waiting for me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;i had a choice -- to either come back or be in limbo forever. i was damaged and was looking for enlightenment until someone decided to see through me, know what i'm thinking and catch a glimpse of my soul. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;luckily, someone was watching me from a distance. hoping that i would change, she gave me her trust and for that, i gave her no reason to be dissapointed of me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;i can say i was afraid coz if i wasn't, i wouldn't be caught in the web of fiction. everything was a blur - an unfathomable experience i can never be sure of. but i recalled being happy and carefree. i was fun but not anymore. as days grow by, i watched myself drift apart from the people that surrounds me nothing but love and kindness. i'm slowly starting to become a loner.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;i was almost dragged down the abyss but i pulled through. i reinvented myself to help get me out of trouble, to make someone be proud of me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;TTFN.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8709407208098549077-6517575033333814249?l=champerez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/feeds/6517575033333814249/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8709407208098549077&amp;postID=6517575033333814249&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/6517575033333814249'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/6517575033333814249'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/2010/10/in-cloud-9.html' title='In Cloud 9'/><author><name>CHAM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05245062024591759542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_64dF58M5P7E/R-oDqztmPTI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/SG_kwaN4C4k/S220/cham.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/TL2xFkN4FdI/AAAAAAAAATw/c3zozFbMn7Q/s72-c/Fear____by_Murderdoll17.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709407208098549077.post-4631865068520716177</id><published>2010-09-27T00:36:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-27T00:36:33.077+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='past'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='memories'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>Always In My Heart, Often in My Dreams</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/TJ9x7MoJjWI/AAAAAAAAATM/m3QVlbnNNHo/s1600/_The_Joy_In_Forgetting_____by_starwide.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" px="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/TJ9x7MoJjWI/AAAAAAAAATM/m3QVlbnNNHo/s320/_The_Joy_In_Forgetting_____by_starwide.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;" i guess everyone has their reasons for keeping people away;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;in an instict to protect yourself from getting hurt. it's part of human nature."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://browse.deviantart.com/?q=forgetting&amp;amp;order=9&amp;amp;offset=96#/dj4n3q"&gt;&lt;em&gt;x﻿&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;if only i could, i would've deleted you in my life. with no evidence of your existence, it would've been&amp;nbsp;easy for me to move forward, to be happy, to find someone new.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;it hurts me to see you happy. conceited as it may seem, but i want you all to myself. i've been trying to get a hold of you, trying to show you how beautiful life is if we're together. but then,&amp;nbsp;you have given me no chance at all to prove that. you abandoned me. and now, a hole in the center of my heart was born the day you decided to neglect my presence. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;for the nth time or maybe more, again, i was wrong. i could never fool myself; much more my heart. my mind may think otherwise but it's my heart that longs for your existence. i want to touch you, hold you and caress you gently to sleep. i want to tell you stories and at the same time&amp;nbsp;gaze into your beautiful eyes. i want to see you for who you truly are and i want to see you happy of the things i have done.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;i could never ask for another because it is you that the world has offered. forever will you be in me and forever i will long for you to come running back to my arms again. i was a dreamer to hope you would be mine and i was nothing more but a mere girl broken hearted because of love.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;TTFN.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8709407208098549077-4631865068520716177?l=champerez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/feeds/4631865068520716177/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8709407208098549077&amp;postID=4631865068520716177&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/4631865068520716177'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/4631865068520716177'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/2010/09/always-in-my-heart-often-in-my-dreams.html' title='Always In My Heart, Often in My Dreams'/><author><name>CHAM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05245062024591759542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_64dF58M5P7E/R-oDqztmPTI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/SG_kwaN4C4k/S220/cham.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/TJ9x7MoJjWI/AAAAAAAAATM/m3QVlbnNNHo/s72-c/_The_Joy_In_Forgetting_____by_starwide.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709407208098549077.post-497385350109716340</id><published>2010-08-29T21:45:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-09T20:02:51.872+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hope'/><title type='text'>Twisted Fate</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/THpkum5ZEWI/AAAAAAAAATE/N7__n9cZO3s/s1600/Desperate_by_Camaryn.png"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 233px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5510827845919248738" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/THpkum5ZEWI/AAAAAAAAATE/N7__n9cZO3s/s320/Desperate_by_Camaryn.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;next time you take a tumble, no more frowns. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;-Ken Watanabe, Memoirs of a Geisha&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/em&gt;&lt;a href="http://browse.deviantart.com/?q=desperate&amp;amp;order=9&amp;amp;offset=48#/d2qatdn"&gt;&lt;em&gt;x&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;broken expectations are like a shattering glass. it is indeed painful, bloody and somewhat fucked up. no one wants to be disappointed especially when you least expect it to be. no matter how hard it hits your face, always remember to never let that pain get into your skin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;down the drain, i flushed everything. i don't want to be able to see the sad look on my face the moment i see myself in the mirror. that sagging eyes, long face and a sad frown is not acceptable in my world full of unexpected things. i am always caught off guard and there are always surprises in store for me in this lifetime.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;i opened the door and force a smile on my face. i tried as i can be to condition my mind to be able to receive the burn the fire is about to cause. the sting will surely linger for a while but at least i won't be that sad if the verdict is given.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;walking down the hall, my heart is surely beating fast. not sure of what to say and do, i opened the door that was on fire. cold as it may seem, i'm sweating my heart out and trying not to think of the situation that's right on my face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;time wasn't on my side. it moved so slow as i was exploring the room. it was slowly burning and it felt like being in an oven. all eyes on me, all ears alert and listening to every word my mouth uttered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;i was stricken with disbelief. somehow, what i was hoping for turned out to be so much more. as i opened the door, i feel the wind kissing my face, lifting me up to soar above the sky. happy to be where i am now, i could not ask for more than what has been given to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;i was expecting pain and misery but instead i got happiness and more hope to go through life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;TTFN. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8709407208098549077-497385350109716340?l=champerez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/feeds/497385350109716340/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8709407208098549077&amp;postID=497385350109716340&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/497385350109716340'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/497385350109716340'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/2010/08/next-time-you-take-tumble-no-more.html' title='Twisted Fate'/><author><name>CHAM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05245062024591759542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_64dF58M5P7E/R-oDqztmPTI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/SG_kwaN4C4k/S220/cham.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/THpkum5ZEWI/AAAAAAAAATE/N7__n9cZO3s/s72-c/Desperate_by_Camaryn.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709407208098549077.post-2406097003235379692</id><published>2010-07-27T00:29:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2010-07-27T01:04:32.390+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='present'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='changes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='freedom'/><title type='text'>I`m Soaring. I`m Breaking Free.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/TE24OiVtl0I/AAAAAAAAAS0/5xLGDVvDj3k/s1600/Freedom_Feels_by_vaporization.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 239px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5498253279964796738" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/TE24OiVtl0I/AAAAAAAAAS0/5xLGDVvDj3k/s320/Freedom_Feels_by_vaporization.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt; "Man is free the moment he wishes to be."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;-Voltaire&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://browse.deviantart.com/?q=freedom&amp;amp;order=9&amp;amp;offset=192#/d1j3per"&gt;x&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br&gt;i`m addicted to the wind. i live to feel it seeping to my skin. every blow feels like a free fall to something infinite. i can no longer feel the ground and then i realize... i`m flying. along with the birds in a clear blue sky, i can see everything around me. for the first time in a very long time, i am free.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;trapped in a cage, i`m no longer the prisoner i was before. i see changes, i see hope. i see colors. i closed my eyes and feel the moment. i want to preserve this memory, to make it last a lifetime and to make me remember that life is indeed beautiful. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;i admit, i was dying to break loose. i was suffocated and the cold wind that i am feeling right now erased all bad memories i once had. i am light and with the past behind me, i can soar to the skies.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;everything i do feels like an act of rebellion. people are watching me do things i don`t normally do. i am defying their rules and not even gravity can pin me down the ground.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;now, i`m spreading my wings and ready to take flight. grabbing onto nothing, i am taking the risk of jumping off a cliff and just let the wind carry me to the place i am needed.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;TTFN.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8709407208098549077-2406097003235379692?l=champerez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/feeds/2406097003235379692/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8709407208098549077&amp;postID=2406097003235379692&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/2406097003235379692'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/2406097003235379692'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/2010/07/im-soaring-im-breaking-free.html' title='I`m Soaring. I`m Breaking Free.'/><author><name>CHAM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05245062024591759542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_64dF58M5P7E/R-oDqztmPTI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/SG_kwaN4C4k/S220/cham.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/TE24OiVtl0I/AAAAAAAAAS0/5xLGDVvDj3k/s72-c/Freedom_Feels_by_vaporization.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709407208098549077.post-6578610411776082664</id><published>2010-07-10T23:08:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-07-10T23:36:07.576+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='decisions'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='changes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='school'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='future'/><title type='text'>The Crossing</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/TDiNDMLniaI/AAAAAAAAASs/kR_0fN7-5yI/s1600/Gaze_by_gnusi.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 178px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492294831527397794" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/TDiNDMLniaI/AAAAAAAAASs/kR_0fN7-5yI/s320/Gaze_by_gnusi.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt; "if you don`t go after what you want, you`ll never get it.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;if you don`t ask, the answer is always no.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;if you don`t step forward, you`re always on the same place."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://http//browse.deviantart.com/?qh=&amp;amp;section=&amp;amp;global=1&amp;amp;q=gaze#/drbnxr"&gt;x&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;i was in a daze, imagining what will happen, hoping for a bright future ahead of me. things have changed and the things i thought i could never do, i did. i`m a woman possed with great ambitions. it`s time to cross that path. it`s time to defy gravity.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;i feel a rush inside of me. no more inhibitions, no more limitations, no more insecurities. i guess the answer has always been under my nose all along. i`m going to pursue this, no matter how much it`ll cost me. there will be no regrets. just enthusiasm, joy and positivity. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;for once, i feel confident about my decision. there was no looking left and right before i crossed the road. i knew for once that the path i`m heading to is somewhere safe, secluded and full of adventure waiting to happen. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;as i bid goodbye to my other goal, i`m more than happy to greet the new thrill that is going to excite my life and the lives i will about to touch. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;i couldn`t be happier coz i`ve got a fairy tale plot... my very own happy ending. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;TTFN.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8709407208098549077-6578610411776082664?l=champerez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/feeds/6578610411776082664/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8709407208098549077&amp;postID=6578610411776082664&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/6578610411776082664'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/6578610411776082664'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/2010/07/crossing.html' title='The Crossing'/><author><name>CHAM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05245062024591759542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_64dF58M5P7E/R-oDqztmPTI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/SG_kwaN4C4k/S220/cham.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/TDiNDMLniaI/AAAAAAAAASs/kR_0fN7-5yI/s72-c/Gaze_by_gnusi.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709407208098549077.post-8994435308857702773</id><published>2010-06-12T21:25:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2010-06-12T21:47:01.782+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dreams'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='confusion'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='books'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='wicked'/><title type='text'>Follow The Yellow Brick Road</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/TBOLAwpkfpI/AAAAAAAAASk/CzvYyo7rXgg/s1600/yellow_bricked_road_by_tearsoft.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/TBOLAwpkfpI/AAAAAAAAASk/CzvYyo7rXgg/s320/yellow_bricked_road_by_tearsoft.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5481878016615546514" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;"happy is what happens when your dreams come true."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;-Kristen Chenoweth as Galinda, Wicked&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://browse.deviantart.com/?q=road&amp;amp;order=9&amp;amp;offset=24#/d9uxn1"&gt;x&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;i'm standing on a crossroad, confused on what path to choose. right now, i have no idea as to where to go. i have no destination and all i have with me are dreams i badly want to pursue. i've been thriving hard to see the light at the end of the tunnel but as i keep on heading forward, i just couldn't reach it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;right now, i want to have it easy. like what Dorothy had in the book, i want a yellow brick road so i wouldn't have to ask for directions or get lost on my way to my destination. i look at each paths and i couldn't see anything -- it's too foggy and misty and because of that, i am afraid as to what road to take. should i move forward? or go left? maybe right is the right way to go. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;i want to figure this out right away. i don't want any regrets -- there's no room for error. not now, not ever. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;i just wish something would fall from the sky and help me figure out where to go. i want a neon arrow sign pointing to the right direction. i want my very own yellow brick road to follow. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8709407208098549077-8994435308857702773?l=champerez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/feeds/8994435308857702773/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8709407208098549077&amp;postID=8994435308857702773&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/8994435308857702773'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/8994435308857702773'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/2010/06/follow-yellow-brick-road.html' title='Follow The Yellow Brick Road'/><author><name>CHAM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05245062024591759542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_64dF58M5P7E/R-oDqztmPTI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/SG_kwaN4C4k/S220/cham.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/TBOLAwpkfpI/AAAAAAAAASk/CzvYyo7rXgg/s72-c/yellow_bricked_road_by_tearsoft.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709407208098549077.post-2889883480227663076</id><published>2010-05-22T20:13:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2010-05-22T21:13:14.696+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='emotions'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='nature'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='feelings'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='released'/><title type='text'>Nature's Emotion</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/S_fMKOKKTfI/AAAAAAAAASc/O6K_Sorr8eM/s1600/Released_by_waterspirirtjess.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 288px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/S_fMKOKKTfI/AAAAAAAAASc/O6K_Sorr8eM/s320/Released_by_waterspirirtjess.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5474068348063600114" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;"Rainbow apologizes for angry skies."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;-Sylvia Voirol&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://waterspirirtjess.deviantart.com/art/Released-98767723?qj=1&amp;amp;q=boost%3Apopular+emotions+of+nature&amp;amp;qo=247"&gt;x&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;anger, pride, resentment -- powerful emotions suppressed in three different bottles. three very strong emotions bursting to break free -- seeking for peace, calmness and joy. but all of that remains fiction. they couldn't be released due to the powers they withhold.  still trapped in a bottle, still stored in a closet, still hopeless for freedom.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;the sunlight's ray bursted through the window, a gush of wind caused the trees to dance, making its leaves fall out of the branches. the sky so blue, making it more marvelous as the clouds appeared in the horizon. and then there was happiness. there was tranquility and the world looked so beautiful once again.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;but if the sun exist, so does the rain, lightning, thunder and storm. dark clouds covering the powerful sun, making it dark and gloomy. droplets of rain came falling down from the then blue sky. people running away from the water -- as if it's going to melt them out of existence. the sound of thunder suddenly made the heavens so loud. like a boulder being smashed by a hammer. and then out came sadness accompanied by anger. with the two of them working hand in hand, the world could never looked so dark, so evil. it's as if it never attained peace and beauty never existed.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;as the rain clouds passed and the thunder gone, a rainbow showed up from the sky. seven beautiful colors -- making each one beautiful than the other. seven beautiful colors that works together and doesn't contradict one another. the rainbow, like in the war, serves as the white flag. then there was balance and everything else is restored.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;TTFN. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8709407208098549077-2889883480227663076?l=champerez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/feeds/2889883480227663076/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8709407208098549077&amp;postID=2889883480227663076&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/2889883480227663076'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/2889883480227663076'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/2010/05/natures-emotion.html' title='Nature&apos;s Emotion'/><author><name>CHAM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05245062024591759542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_64dF58M5P7E/R-oDqztmPTI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/SG_kwaN4C4k/S220/cham.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/S_fMKOKKTfI/AAAAAAAAASc/O6K_Sorr8eM/s72-c/Released_by_waterspirirtjess.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709407208098549077.post-1140003583961403461</id><published>2010-05-03T16:38:00.007+08:00</published><updated>2010-05-03T20:58:45.683+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='high school'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='thoughts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='problems'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parents'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mother'/><title type='text'>Everyone Deserves a Chance to Fly</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/S96Oi-PfFfI/AAAAAAAAASU/gsGrgc1vBvQ/s1600/Caged_b_w_by_CoffinFairy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/S96Oi-PfFfI/AAAAAAAAASU/gsGrgc1vBvQ/s320/Caged_b_w_by_CoffinFairy.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466963729149007346" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;"to those who'd ground me, take a message back from me&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;tell them how i am defying gravity&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;i'm flying high, i'm defying gravity."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://CoffinFairy.deviantart.com/art/Caged-b-w-73856059"&gt;x&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;ever had the feeling of being caged up? of being suffocated? of being invisible, unappreciated and no matter how hard you try, they still perceive you the way you are? that's what i'm feeling now. that's how heavy everything else seems to be.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;somehow, i feel like i'm a prisoner in my own home. i feel like i'm being watched and my actions, no matter how good they are, are still bad in the eyes of the observers. i'm tired of redeeming myself. i don't like pleasing people -- i never do. but no matter what i do, i'm still a criminal. the notion of my actions are good and i've been trying really hard to change but, unfortunately, even my own mother can't see that.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;i have been a very difficult child. i've experienced rebellion, sneaking out and lying just to go drinking. i've come home drunk and woke up with a very bad hangover. i've been caught doing bad things that no parents want to see their child doing. i've skipped school and go drinking with my friends early in the morning -- 7.30 in the morning to be exact. but regardless of what i've done, i've managed to get my grades intact. sure, i've failed 2 subjects but i didn't fail because of drinking and ditching school. i just failed coz my performance wasn't really that satisfying to the teachers and it was that time i wasn't out and about with my friends drinking. i don't and can never make up an excuse about that.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;after surviving third year college and while i was trying hard to survive that year, i have come to realize that i wasn't the lazy ass girl i used to know. i've worked hard to get good grades and when i do, i work even harder to get better grades. i discovered the hard working girl that was buried within me. regardless of how good my grades came to be last school year, sad to say, my mother couldn't see pass that. she still sees the same old daughter who comes home drunk. she still sees me as 'the last minute' student.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;it feels bad not to be appreciated. i'm not looking for a big party celebration and whatnot. all i'm asking for is to see what i've accomplished and how hard i try to accomplish it. all i want is for her to realize that i don't take my education for granted. she makes me feel worthless and with that, i see no reason of working hard to get good grades at all --- passing grades are fine and i have no problem getting that. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;for a mother, she kinda suck in encouraging her child to actually be successful. with her negativity suffocating me, i have this urge to break free and i've been urging to do so long time ago.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;one day, someday, she'll see me for what i have become and not how bad she thinks of me as a person. one day, someday, i shall be a triumphant and she'll be able to see my worth. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8709407208098549077-1140003583961403461?l=champerez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/feeds/1140003583961403461/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8709407208098549077&amp;postID=1140003583961403461&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/1140003583961403461'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/1140003583961403461'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/2010/05/everyone-deserves-chance-to-fly.html' title='Everyone Deserves a Chance to Fly'/><author><name>CHAM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05245062024591759542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_64dF58M5P7E/R-oDqztmPTI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/SG_kwaN4C4k/S220/cham.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/S96Oi-PfFfI/AAAAAAAAASU/gsGrgc1vBvQ/s72-c/Caged_b_w_by_CoffinFairy.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709407208098549077.post-4077706814287989970</id><published>2010-04-05T21:14:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-04-05T21:55:21.637+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stress'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='school'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>stressed spelled backwards isn't desserts.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/S7nip9YlVDI/AAAAAAAAAR8/fBqrarsmGdQ/s1600/College_Student_by_Pumasaur.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/S7nip9YlVDI/AAAAAAAAAR8/fBqrarsmGdQ/s320/College_Student_by_Pumasaur.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456641634016252978" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;"nobody pays attention, unless you make a fatal mistake."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://Pumasaur.deviantart.com/art/College-Student-77690538"&gt;x&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;second semester was very crucial for me. it was that time i was severely bombarded with major requirements. it was that time i literally broke down because i was so stressed (no thanks to my unhelpful group mates) and it was that moment i felt like i'm carrying a huge metal ball on my back -- the one that's used for destroying a building.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;you may think or say that i'm exaggerating but i'm not. i wasn't like this before. i used to care less of getting high grades. all i was aiming for was to pass but that doesn't seem to satisfy me anymore. weird as it may seem but i really have to thank my teacher for changing me -- making me a hard working student. i felt really good that day when she said that i've changed for the better. a 360 degrees change. imagine that. even i could feel the impact of her requirements on me. i could feel how good it did for me that she made me push myself even harder than i did before. i was extremely happy that she saw my effort. i was happy that at least someone did.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;unfortunately, my parents didn't. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;this day was supposed to be my crucifixion day. i was going to die today -- or at least try to kill myself. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;i got my grades today and i was jumping for joy. my midterm grades were high (except for physics). before the teachers released the midterm grades, i was assuming (or underestimating myself) that i'd fail all my subjects but i didn't. i was so happy of the outcome of my effort that i tried even harder to increase my grades for finals which it did. my grade in physics jumped from 3.7 to 2.8. it was mind blowing. and i was at bliss even more when i saw all my grades in my major subjects increased so much. at that moment i couldn't stop smiling. i was so proud of myself and how my hard work paid so much.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;i gave my grades to my mom and she said, "good." &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;seriously. GOOD?! more than good, it's GREAT. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;she just doesn't see how hard i try to get good grades. all she does was nag me on how much i use the computer and how much i whine to get my own freaking laptop. every godforsaken paper i pass should be typewritten. i don't own a library so i could do my research in my house and i can't just spare my studies and let other people use the computer so that they could play Farmville and whatnot. i have my studies to worry about.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;i don't like to sound like a complaining bitch even though i am but how my mother nags me about hogging the computer is so unreasonable. it's not like i'm having the time of my life playing online games. no, i work hard and by working hard, i mean frying my brain and drying my eyes so that i could actually give her much better grades than what she expected me to give her. somehow, i want to drill in her skull how hard my course is. she couldn't understand that. that's why i want a laptop -- so that no one could interrupt me while i'm doing my work. so that she could not tell me, "can you let me use the computer? I STILL HAVE TO HARVEST." good Lord. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;TTFN.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8709407208098549077-4077706814287989970?l=champerez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/feeds/4077706814287989970/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8709407208098549077&amp;postID=4077706814287989970&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/4077706814287989970'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/4077706814287989970'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/2010/04/stressed-spelled-backwards-isnt.html' title='stressed spelled backwards isn&apos;t desserts.'/><author><name>CHAM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05245062024591759542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_64dF58M5P7E/R-oDqztmPTI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/SG_kwaN4C4k/S220/cham.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/S7nip9YlVDI/AAAAAAAAAR8/fBqrarsmGdQ/s72-c/College_Student_by_Pumasaur.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709407208098549077.post-5822619632699209638</id><published>2010-03-25T12:56:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2010-03-25T14:05:45.722+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='happiness'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pain'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='trails'/><title type='text'>Windows of the World</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/S6rz-eJfALI/AAAAAAAAAR0/CqSxsGixpPY/s1600/af7394e652168d6df63f2f4df1ea739e.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 208px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/S6rz-eJfALI/AAAAAAAAAR0/CqSxsGixpPY/s320/af7394e652168d6df63f2f4df1ea739e.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452438553455689906" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;"be thankful of the hard time in your life.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;try not to look at them as bad things, &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;but as opportunities to grow and learn"&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://PlayBoots.deviantart.com/art/Colors-Collision-91899562"&gt;x&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;seven years ago, i was a first year High School student and i almost died.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;seven years ago, death never came up in my mind nor did i think i was so close to dying. it wasn't any illness that hit me. it was something far more unimaginable than that. something was missing in my body. sad to say, i wasn't born fully developed as a human being. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;the pain i felt was eating me inside. devouring every piece of me, making me feel paralyzed. most of the time, i would crouch down, hands on my tummy, crying and sweating at the same time. when i can't bear the pain anymore, i would lay down on the floor, ask help and just shout as if it would cause the pain to go away. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;i was confused on what was happening to me -- to my body. i thought it was a punishment but whatever it was, it helped me see how beautiful life is regardless of how much pain it caused me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;i thought i would die at a very young age. i was afraid of what was going on around me. then the operation day came. all i remembered was i was in a room full of doctors or nurses. i guess they were astounded of my condition since i'm the second patient in that hospital to undergo that procedure. the hospital was built in 1901. i was operated in July of 2003. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;they were able to collect almost 3 liters of bad fluid in my body. the fluid, if not stopped, would cause to poison me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;i woke up in the recovery room. i was surrounded with large lamps to make me feel warm.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;since then, i'm able to live my life normally. no more crouching down and shouting for help. though my absence caused me to fail 5 subjects, i was still thankful of the second life the Lord has given me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;i saw the sunset and i witnessed it rise. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;TTFN.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8709407208098549077-5822619632699209638?l=champerez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/feeds/5822619632699209638/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8709407208098549077&amp;postID=5822619632699209638&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/5822619632699209638'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/5822619632699209638'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/2010/03/windows-of-world.html' title='Windows of the World'/><author><name>CHAM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05245062024591759542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_64dF58M5P7E/R-oDqztmPTI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/SG_kwaN4C4k/S220/cham.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/S6rz-eJfALI/AAAAAAAAAR0/CqSxsGixpPY/s72-c/af7394e652168d6df63f2f4df1ea739e.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709407208098549077.post-1993675052812935606</id><published>2010-03-14T22:44:00.008+08:00</published><updated>2010-03-14T23:05:18.623+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='past'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><title type='text'>This is My Confession.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/S5z2fRjBM5I/AAAAAAAAARs/tiRvxkqmVlA/s1600-h/smile_by_RazZzZ.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/S5z2fRjBM5I/AAAAAAAAARs/tiRvxkqmVlA/s320/smile_by_RazZzZ.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5448500666358117266" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;"&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;don't ever let me find you're gone&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;coz that would bring a tear to me."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;-Boyzone&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://RazZzZ.deviantart.com/art/smile-104748287"&gt;x&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  white-space: pre-wrap; font-family:'Lucida Grande', Arial;font-size:11px;"&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;object data="http://assets.myflashfetish.com/swf/mp3/mixpod.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" height="128" width="320"&gt;&lt;param value="false" name="menu"&gt;&lt;param value="TL" name="salign"&gt;&lt;param value="window" name="wmode"&gt;&lt;param value="myid=k5wm8&amp;amp;autoplay=false&amp;amp;addMode=false&amp;amp;prev=3" name="flashvars"&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'Lucida Grande', Arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre-wrap;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;She keeps the secrets in her eyes&lt;br /&gt;She wraps the truth inside her lies&lt;br /&gt;And just when I can't take what she's done to me&lt;br /&gt;She comes to me&lt;br /&gt;And leads me back to paradise&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She's so hard to hold&lt;br /&gt;But I can't let go&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm a house of cards in a hurricane&lt;br /&gt;A reckless ride in the pouring rain&lt;br /&gt;She cuts me and the pain is all I wanna feel&lt;br /&gt;She dances away just like a child&lt;br /&gt;She drives me crazy, drives me wild&lt;br /&gt;But I'm helpless when she smiles (oh when she smiles.. she smiles..)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I'd fight it if I could (Maybe I'd fight it if I could)&lt;br /&gt;It hurts so bad, but feels so good&lt;br /&gt;She opens up just like a rose to me&lt;br /&gt;When she's close to me&lt;br /&gt;Anything she asked me to, I would&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's out of control&lt;br /&gt;But I can't let go&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm a house of cards in a hurricane&lt;br /&gt;A reckless ride in the pouring rain&lt;br /&gt;She cuts me and the pain is all I wanna feel&lt;br /&gt;She dances away just like a child&lt;br /&gt;She drives me crazy, drives me wild&lt;br /&gt;But I'm helpless when she smiles (oh no.. when she smiles..)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When she looks at me (When she looks at me)&lt;br /&gt;I get so weak&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm a house of cards in a hurricane&lt;br /&gt;A reckless ride in the pouring rain&lt;br /&gt;She cuts me and the pain is all I wanna feel&lt;br /&gt;She dances away just like a child&lt;br /&gt;She drives me crazy, drives me wild&lt;br /&gt;But I'm helpless when she smiles &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;(oh when she smiles... when she smiles.. she smiles.....)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;***&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial, serif;"&gt;every letter, every word and every stanza of this song defines my life -- even the pronouns. &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/8709407208098549077-1993675052812935606?l=champerez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/feeds/1993675052812935606/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8709407208098549077&amp;postID=1993675052812935606&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/1993675052812935606'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/1993675052812935606'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/2010/03/this-is-my-confession.html' title='This is My Confession.'/><author><name>CHAM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05245062024591759542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_64dF58M5P7E/R-oDqztmPTI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/SG_kwaN4C4k/S220/cham.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/S5z2fRjBM5I/AAAAAAAAARs/tiRvxkqmVlA/s72-c/smile_by_RazZzZ.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709407208098549077.post-1217597623853496349</id><published>2010-03-04T22:08:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2010-03-04T23:15:45.142+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='past'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='closure'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='reality'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='boy'/><title type='text'>it was you who made my blue eyes blue</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/S4--9CUFqKI/AAAAAAAAARc/NfZEYWLoU2Q/s1600-h/interal_breakdown_by_taaylorninja.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 202px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/S4--9CUFqKI/AAAAAAAAARc/NfZEYWLoU2Q/s320/interal_breakdown_by_taaylorninja.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444780430316644514" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;"coz you had me believing,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;you had me believing in a lie&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;i guess i couldn't see it, i guess i couldn't see it&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;till i saw goodbye." &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;-Eric Clapton&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://taaylorninja.deviantart.com/art/interal-breakdown-93731273"&gt;x&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;you were mine for quite sometime. 4 years had passed and we found closure. you said i left you. i didn't but i took the blame coz i don't see the point of disagreeing anyway. it was dawn and i was tired. you said you were lonely when i left. so did i. you said you wanted to fill the gap that you are feeling. so did i. at that moment, i felt a connection between us. again, we were talking the way we used to talk 4 years ago.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;then i made an out-of-the-blue suggestion. you were astounded. so was i. never did i expect those words to come out of my mouth. i was confused of what was happing. it was so fast. four years of not talking and it only took you 4 hours to make my feelings towards you somewhat 'active' again.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;that night was surreal. i thought it was just a dream but it wasn't since your messages are in my inbox. it was more of a bliss, actually.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;i thought it was the best time to start where we left off. i thought it was serious -- i thought you were serious. again, i hoped but i should know not to. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;you said you wanted to see me. i wanted to see you, too. to actually spend time with you before you go to another continent. but sad to say, when it's not meant to be, it's not meant to be. i didn't bother asking you to come see me coz you always find ways to make excuses. if you want to see me, you would.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;news really do fly fast. you wanted to get back with your ex. i am your ex but i wasn't the ex you wanted to get back with. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;for 2 weeks, you managed to make me feel like i'm floating down to the making me feel like shit. it was painful but i can manage like i always do. i am strong and with what happened between us made me realize even more that i am too good for you. yes, i am because i don't and will never beat you up unlike the person you are with and chose to be with right now.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;what's meant to be will always find its way. if we are meant for each other, time will come that we'll be together again. for the mean time, have fun and enjoy every moment you have.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;i am disappointed of what you did. i don't like being in the dark and i have every right to know that you got back with your ex. it was rude, really but i can't do anything about that anymore. i now am having this feeling that you were having a revenge. serves me right for 'leaving you', yeah?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;we all know that you left me and we all know that you are leaving me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;TTFN&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8709407208098549077-1217597623853496349?l=champerez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/feeds/1217597623853496349/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8709407208098549077&amp;postID=1217597623853496349&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/1217597623853496349'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/1217597623853496349'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/2010/03/coz-you-had-me-believing-you-had-me.html' title='it was you who made my blue eyes blue'/><author><name>CHAM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05245062024591759542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_64dF58M5P7E/R-oDqztmPTI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/SG_kwaN4C4k/S220/cham.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/S4--9CUFqKI/AAAAAAAAARc/NfZEYWLoU2Q/s72-c/interal_breakdown_by_taaylorninja.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709407208098549077.post-548005284224610987</id><published>2010-02-27T23:51:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2010-02-28T00:06:13.786+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='past'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>I'm Being Fetched By The Grim Reaper</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/S4k_oxq0OUI/AAAAAAAAARU/Z6QfrhS2oG0/s1600-h/0cbe50842d8e1b132dbe9d968fe67fc8.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 201px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/S4k_oxq0OUI/AAAAAAAAARU/Z6QfrhS2oG0/s320/0cbe50842d8e1b132dbe9d968fe67fc8.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5442951594414192962" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;"right now i'm sitting on a bridge&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;gazing down at the water, too scared to jump&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;but too afraid to stay."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://norynn.deviantart.com/art/dying-127818560"&gt;x&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;life has indeed given me more than my fair share of pain and lies. no need to keep the truth away from me. i will know it eventually. it's good that i knew it beforehand. it's good that you don't have to lie to me anymore. just when i thought life has given us a second chance to test the emotions we are having for each other. again, i was the one to blame for suddenly disappearing just like that. it was all my fault. yes, i am taking the blame.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;i'm not mad that you didn't tell me the big news. what i'm having issues about is how you managed to tell me that we could have something real this time. i was bothered for days coz i was unsure of what i have gotten myself into again this time.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;but now, there's no need for me to think about our situation anymore. you yourself has given me enough answers i needed to know. i get it. you're getting back at me for what i did to you 4 years ago. my apology was really sincere. i never intended to hurt you and i never intended to leave you but i did and i am really sorry.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;so, i guess this is finally it. our story ends here. no more fooling and lying around. i have my ways. i don't actually have to search for it to know. i don't chase the news. the news comes to me. goodbye... forever.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;as much i i don't want it to end like this, i have to. i don't want to be the 'second choice' anymore. i'm through with all that BS. like i said, i want someone NEW to hurt me --- or make me happy. not someone from my past and if it was, i wasn't expecting it to be you. sorry, but that's the truth.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;i was actually forcing myself to forget everything that happened between us. but i just can't. it sucks, really. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;TTFN&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8709407208098549077-548005284224610987?l=champerez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/feeds/548005284224610987/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8709407208098549077&amp;postID=548005284224610987&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/548005284224610987'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/548005284224610987'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/2010/02/im-being-fetched-by-grim-reaper.html' title='I&apos;m Being Fetched By The Grim Reaper'/><author><name>CHAM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05245062024591759542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_64dF58M5P7E/R-oDqztmPTI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/SG_kwaN4C4k/S220/cham.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/S4k_oxq0OUI/AAAAAAAAARU/Z6QfrhS2oG0/s72-c/0cbe50842d8e1b132dbe9d968fe67fc8.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709407208098549077.post-8873069932842711758</id><published>2010-02-19T22:01:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2010-02-19T23:01:20.219+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='valentine&apos;s day'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='past'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='present'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='people'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='movies'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='memories'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='realizations'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='learnings'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pain'/><title type='text'>I Look at the Stars and then I Remember You</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/S36aPLMYMLI/AAAAAAAAAQ8/13msHV-2nIo/s1600-h/Only_The_Lonely_by_leAlmighty.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 220px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/S36aPLMYMLI/AAAAAAAAAQ8/13msHV-2nIo/s320/Only_The_Lonely_by_leAlmighty.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439954985403560114" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;"I want the one I can't have and it's driving me mad&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;it's written all over my face." &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://leAlmighty.deviantart.com/art/Only-The-Lonely-60521440"&gt;x&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Valentine's Day --- a movie worth watching. no, i'm not going to blog about the movie. what i'm going to blog about is how i felt while and after watching the movie.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;i was moved by the movie especially the story of  Kate Hazeltine. i was forcing myself not to cry even though tears were about to fall down my cheeks. it was so inspiring that it made me realize how some people would go for miles just to see the one they love.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;next was Sean Jackson's big revelation. i do wish i could be able to do what he did --- shout it to the entire world and not care about what people might think. it was a brave move and i know i won't be able to do what he did. confident as i am, i could never gather my guts to say what i REALLY want to say without the fear of being judged. i wish i could but i couldn't.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Dr. Harrison Copeland. the same doctor i knew in Grey's Anatomy. slick and sneaky. i could never understand on why some people could actually do what he did in the movie. it was pretty deceitful not to mention painful. I loathe people like him IRL.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;i could never forget Kara Monahan. her idea of a party was pretty awesome. bitter, yes. but then again, it was inevitable for people like Kara to feel the way she did in the movie. childish, yes, but very therapeutic. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;i had the biggest sympathy on Reed Bennett. i guess not all good things come to an end. his story was so tragic that i almost want to bitchslap Morely Clarkson for being so insensitive to Reed's feelings. it actually made me realize to think twice before doing anything coz some people might get hurt during the decision making process and as much as possible, i would never want people to get hurt due to my wrong decisions.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Julia Fitzpatrick showed why revenge is sweet. i don't have to watch this movie to be able to realize that fact. she's a strong, determined person and weird as it may seem but i see a part of myself in her. i don't allow people to push me around and she showed how 'self-defense' is important in her story.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;like most teens out there, Alex and Grace just couldn't wait to experience that very magical moment in a relationship. i couldn't blame them, actually. having to deal with peer pressure and hormones is a very hard thing to do. i guess almost everybody wants to know how it feels but i still recommend to wait for the perfect moment. like destiny, it is not planned. it will happen when the moment is right. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;i really, really wish i could meet someone like Holden. really. someone like him and Sean Jackson. oh wait. scratch that. i think i just did.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;having the chance to walk around this planet for 19 years made me realize that you have to accept every person for what they are especially those people that is in your life. Jason had a hard time doing it with Liz and i kinda hated him for shutting her off just like that. just like Morely Clarkson, what he did was unbelievable. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;with all the love showed in the movie, i couldn't help but feel lonely. it was depressing for me. i know i'm being bitter and all but what i went through over the past few years was hard and i kinda went through it alone. so, yeah. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;TTFN. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8709407208098549077-8873069932842711758?l=champerez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/feeds/8873069932842711758/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8709407208098549077&amp;postID=8873069932842711758&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/8873069932842711758'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/8873069932842711758'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/2010/02/i-look-at-stars-and-then-i-remember-you.html' title='I Look at the Stars and then I Remember You'/><author><name>CHAM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05245062024591759542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_64dF58M5P7E/R-oDqztmPTI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/SG_kwaN4C4k/S220/cham.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/S36aPLMYMLI/AAAAAAAAAQ8/13msHV-2nIo/s72-c/Only_The_Lonely_by_leAlmighty.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709407208098549077.post-1104622385068216405</id><published>2010-02-11T21:36:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-02-11T22:18:40.462+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='storms'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='story'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='abandonment'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='alone'/><title type='text'>Season 19 Episode 6</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/S3QIR558JXI/AAAAAAAAAQs/i2q_94EqVXU/s1600-h/Left_Behind_2_by_hquer.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 219px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/S3QIR558JXI/AAAAAAAAAQs/i2q_94EqVXU/s320/Left_Behind_2_by_hquer.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436979753837667698" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;"do you like being alone?" he asked.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;"No. no one likes being alone. but i've learned&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;how to live with it."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;-Andre Aciman&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://hquer.deviantart.com/art/Left-Behind-2-133819359"&gt;x&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;why does it feel like this isn't new to me anymore? being left behind has been the story of my life. it's like the plot of a book or a movie or even a TV Series. the people who caused me pain and left me behind? those were the villains. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;i'm getting used to be "the second choice." it seems like it doesn't really matter to me anymore. i wouldn't be shocked if this will happen again. i'm starting to feel the numbness already. it's starting to sink in --- slowly. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;look closely into my eyes. it shows sadness, despair, misery, suffering and whatnot. i'm not all smiles. issues defines my life. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;suddenly i feel worthless. it's a horrible feeling to deal with. it makes me think that i'm not capable of being in this world and be with people. now i'm having a hard time trusting anyone. with these experiences, it's giving me a very difficult time to have emotional attachment to people that surrounds me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;how can i be able to give a part of me to someone without having to worry of being abandoned? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;we all get tired. it's getting old, actually. i want new experiences. new emotions to deal with. new people to hurt me --- or make me happy. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;abandonment. i'm used to it already.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8709407208098549077-1104622385068216405?l=champerez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/feeds/1104622385068216405/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8709407208098549077&amp;postID=1104622385068216405&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/1104622385068216405'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/1104622385068216405'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/2010/02/season-19-episode-6.html' title='Season 19 Episode 6'/><author><name>CHAM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05245062024591759542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_64dF58M5P7E/R-oDqztmPTI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/SG_kwaN4C4k/S220/cham.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/S3QIR558JXI/AAAAAAAAAQs/i2q_94EqVXU/s72-c/Left_Behind_2_by_hquer.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709407208098549077.post-6661511198361972693</id><published>2010-01-14T22:37:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-01-14T22:52:41.248+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='blog'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='heartaches'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>I'm Only Human. We All Are.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/S08sd8-yXAI/AAAAAAAAAQk/feJ-g51ibjU/s1600-h/Broken_heart_by_Mar_ka.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/S08sd8-yXAI/AAAAAAAAAQk/feJ-g51ibjU/s320/Broken_heart_by_Mar_ka.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426604969102040066" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;"strange how laughter looks like crying with no sound&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;and ho raindrops look like tears without pain."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://Mar-ka.deviantart.com/art/Broken-heart-108725741"&gt;x&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;some hater of mine read my blog. this blog. she then posted in the chatbox of the other blog that i'm contributing and said that i'm "heart broken."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;well, i will surely look like a total hypocrite fool if i will deny that. of course, i am heart broken. i guess almost everyone has been heart broken. and guess what? i'm proud that i have experienced heartaches. it's tough going through that stage especially at a very young age.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;you may hate me because of the things i do but what i can't ponder is that why people make it such a big deal that someone is "heartbroken." those experiences made me strong, gave me a lot of lessons and made me realize a lot of things that i shouldn't have and should have done.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;heartaches. they're just part of the cycle. we are only human and we are capable of feeling pain.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;i'm lucky enough to experience love, to love and be loved in return. i'm lucky to be heart broken and i'm lucky to go through that phase without being too bitter about it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;if you haven't experience heartache, your time will come soon and you can't even describe how bad it feels. take it from someone who knows. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;happy new year everyone. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;TTFN.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8709407208098549077-6661511198361972693?l=champerez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/feeds/6661511198361972693/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8709407208098549077&amp;postID=6661511198361972693&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/6661511198361972693'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/6661511198361972693'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/2010/01/im-only-human-we-all-are.html' title='I&apos;m Only Human. We All Are.'/><author><name>CHAM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05245062024591759542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_64dF58M5P7E/R-oDqztmPTI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/SG_kwaN4C4k/S220/cham.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/S08sd8-yXAI/AAAAAAAAAQk/feJ-g51ibjU/s72-c/Broken_heart_by_Mar_ka.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709407208098549077.post-7404257426580997596</id><published>2009-12-24T14:00:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-12-24T14:15:43.042+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='confusion'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='girl'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='boy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='questions'/><title type='text'>it was real. everything of it was real.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/SzMDnPxKuNI/AAAAAAAAAQc/VdOaKpDsV6Y/s1600-h/Exhausted_by_theartofrex.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 232px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/SzMDnPxKuNI/AAAAAAAAAQc/VdOaKpDsV6Y/s320/Exhausted_by_theartofrex.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5418678749439375570" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;"Love was always the thing that did that-&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;smashed into you, left you raw. the deeper you loved,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;the deeper it hurt."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://theartofrex.deviantart.com/art/Exhausted-106046547"&gt;x&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;aren't you tired of hurting me, leaving me behind every memories we have created, throwing me around like a piece of junk? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;don't you feel guilty of making me feel this way, making me worried about you, when in fact, you don't even care for me at all?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;isn't it enough? the care, affection, love and attention i have given you for the past few years? do you want more? do you want me to stop? how could i know what to do when you don't even talk to me anymore.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;didn't you receive the signals i have given you? i love you, did you felt that? i care for you, did you even see that? i long for you, for your touch, your kisses and your hug, did you know that?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;why me? above all girls that you met, why must i suffer from this tragic love story? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;do you feel tired at all? i'm exhausted. i'm tired of this shit. please help me let you go. i want you out of my life. i want to be free. to be free from you, from everything.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;TTFN.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8709407208098549077-7404257426580997596?l=champerez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/feeds/7404257426580997596/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8709407208098549077&amp;postID=7404257426580997596&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/7404257426580997596'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/7404257426580997596'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/2009/12/love-was-always-thing-that-did-that.html' title='it was real. everything of it was real.'/><author><name>CHAM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05245062024591759542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_64dF58M5P7E/R-oDqztmPTI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/SG_kwaN4C4k/S220/cham.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/SzMDnPxKuNI/AAAAAAAAAQc/VdOaKpDsV6Y/s72-c/Exhausted_by_theartofrex.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709407208098549077.post-3381510700016727522</id><published>2009-12-09T20:47:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-12-09T21:25:15.287+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='past'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='boy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pain'/><title type='text'>5 years isn't enough</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/Sx-dZ8HB4LI/AAAAAAAAAQU/gCnggxP375o/s1600-h/993fda667bdee9f0de95d30c210fc86e.png"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 218px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/Sx-dZ8HB4LI/AAAAAAAAAQU/gCnggxP375o/s320/993fda667bdee9f0de95d30c210fc86e.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5413218346080526514" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;"no love is bigger than the one which is given away&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;---torn apart and yet it still remains." &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://littlemewhatever.deviantart.com/art/Letting-Go-Of-Yesterday-94947203"&gt;x&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;i don't think it's healthy for me to still &lt;s&gt;love&lt;/s&gt; like him this way. it has been 5 years now and i'm still hurting. all those things that he said to me, all those beautiful memories we shared together and all those moments where everything seemed so perfect are now lost in a place where i can't even determine if it was real or not. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;it's sad on how we allowed people and time to drift us apart from each other. every thing's a blur now. a vague reality, an unescapable past, a tormenting present and a surreal future.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;i wish he could've just given me the heads up that he was leaving for good.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;after all those years of my unsaid feelings for him, i finally decided to tell him i &lt;s&gt;love&lt;/s&gt; like him. he didn't know it was me but it took me a lot of courage to finally blurt that out. it was hard yet it felt really good. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;he was my friend, my shoulder to lean on, my strength. and now he is my pain, my suffering and my hurtful past that keeps on haunting my present. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;TTFN.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8709407208098549077-3381510700016727522?l=champerez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/feeds/3381510700016727522/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8709407208098549077&amp;postID=3381510700016727522&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/3381510700016727522'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/3381510700016727522'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/2009/12/5-years-isnt-enough.html' title='5 years isn&apos;t enough'/><author><name>CHAM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05245062024591759542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_64dF58M5P7E/R-oDqztmPTI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/SG_kwaN4C4k/S220/cham.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/Sx-dZ8HB4LI/AAAAAAAAAQU/gCnggxP375o/s72-c/993fda667bdee9f0de95d30c210fc86e.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709407208098549077.post-2031526254246931148</id><published>2009-10-31T14:05:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2009-10-31T14:36:26.177+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='high school'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='past'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friendship'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pain'/><title type='text'>Going Down Memory Lane</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/SuvVgdfceXI/AAAAAAAAAQM/TZegnZJ2n9k/s1600-h/High_School_Friends___.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 242px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/SuvVgdfceXI/AAAAAAAAAQM/TZegnZJ2n9k/s320/High_School_Friends___.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398643331982719346" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;"it's not those who are there when you need them.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;it's who has been there the entire time."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://573ph4n13.deviantart.com/art/High-School-Friends-01-5749843"&gt;x&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;i never really thought it would end up this way. we used to talk about everything. about love, school crushes, problems, happy memories and even sad ones. we used to lean on to each other when someone is in trouble... we used to be so perfect.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;i guess things change and i can't force all of you to stay. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;it is sad seeing 4 years of our friendship gone down the drain. it's sad how we used to tell each other that we'll stick together no matter where we go to, whom we hang out with and what will happen -- may it be good or bad. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;we were in it for the long haul. i guess not.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;how come i am here and you are there? i don't get it. whatever happened to "no one should be left behind?" it makes me feel sad that you didn't talk to me. that you didn't give me a chance to tell my side of the story. it is sad that you just listened to her because she's the one you're always hanging out with. unfair, isn't it?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;it is painful on my part on seeing how strong your friendship grew. didn't you remember everything we have gone through? the laugh trips, the spontaneous adventures, the crazy ideas we came up with?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;i guess for me, high school is over. i could never bring back what happened. everything changed when i decided to post what i felt in my multiply account. why can't you see that i'm hurting? i'm trying my best to be happy and to forget everything but i failed... so bad.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;i miss you. all of you. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;sometimes i just wish i haven't met you so that it won't hurt this bad. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;TTFN.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8709407208098549077-2031526254246931148?l=champerez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/feeds/2031526254246931148/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8709407208098549077&amp;postID=2031526254246931148&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/2031526254246931148'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/2031526254246931148'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/2009/10/going-down-memory-lane.html' title='Going Down Memory Lane'/><author><name>CHAM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05245062024591759542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_64dF58M5P7E/R-oDqztmPTI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/SG_kwaN4C4k/S220/cham.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/SuvVgdfceXI/AAAAAAAAAQM/TZegnZJ2n9k/s72-c/High_School_Friends___.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709407208098549077.post-2226446940664405450</id><published>2009-10-17T19:24:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-10-17T19:45:29.356+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='choices'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='death'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>Am I Really Living ...or Dying?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/Stmp8FGE_6I/AAAAAAAAAQE/MkjY0T3zpwc/s1600-h/The_Wheel_of_Life_by_ahermin.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/Stmp8FGE_6I/AAAAAAAAAQE/MkjY0T3zpwc/s320/The_Wheel_of_Life_by_ahermin.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393528878377795490" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;i&gt;"to me, the glass is half-empty somedays and half-full on others.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;i&gt;sometimes it's bone-dry . or overflowing."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;-Mary Alice Monroe&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left; "&gt;what really is life? are you living it? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left; "&gt;life isn't about finding someone, making that person love you and show them off to your friends. it isn't about being successful just to get revenge, to make people envy you  of what you have and what they didn't.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left; "&gt;&lt;!--StartFragment--&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;life is not just another cliche. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;life isn't glamorous. it's not like what those shallow-headed people in the industries think. it's not about getting what you want because you want it, when other people needs it the most. life is not about being pampered and being look up to people who obviously doesn't have a clue. it's not about manipulating people, devising an evil plan and ruling the world.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;life is not about getting all the money, the girls, the boys, the properties, the pride and the dignity of the people. it is not about fooling them, luring them into a maze they obviously can't escape.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;what is it exactly?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;it's about being contented of what you have and be happy about it. it's about being proud of who you are by making people see that happiness isn't just about material things.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;life is about helping people because you want to and not just because you have to. life is about love. love for your friends, your family, your country and yourself.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;it is about needing something and working hard to get it.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;we only have one shot to actually live our life. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;TT&lt;a href="http://ahermin.deviantart.com/art/The-Wheel-of-Life-119879013"&gt;F&lt;/a&gt;N.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/Stmpolg_AxI/AAAAAAAAAP0/sXcAwM22DUw/s1600-h/The_Wheel_of_Life_by_ahermin.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8709407208098549077-2226446940664405450?l=champerez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/feeds/2226446940664405450/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8709407208098549077&amp;postID=2226446940664405450&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/2226446940664405450'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/2226446940664405450'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/2009/10/am-i-really-living-or-dying.html' title='Am I Really Living ...or Dying?'/><author><name>CHAM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05245062024591759542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_64dF58M5P7E/R-oDqztmPTI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/SG_kwaN4C4k/S220/cham.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/Stmp8FGE_6I/AAAAAAAAAQE/MkjY0T3zpwc/s72-c/The_Wheel_of_Life_by_ahermin.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709407208098549077.post-1479919314177250481</id><published>2009-09-11T19:39:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-14T00:07:43.766+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='girl'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='boy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>Unrequited Love</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/SqpF9tKAOqI/AAAAAAAAAPU/_8_gzKoge5k/s1600-h/Unrequited_by_jericopoet.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 350px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/SqpF9tKAOqI/AAAAAAAAAPU/_8_gzKoge5k/s400/Unrequited_by_jericopoet.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380189631243369122" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;"forgive, sounds good. forget, i'm not sure i could.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;they say time heals everything, but i'm still waiting."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;here's to the girl who made him her first priority. the one who never failed to text him everyday only to check her phone every hour and receive nothing but disappointment.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;the one who manages to fix her hair every morning hoping to get a glance from him. the one who provides nothing but comfort, love and affection. the one who gives a huge deal about him touching, staring or even talking to her because maybe she's thinking she'll never get him to do that to her once again. the one who tries her best to get him to notice her that she'll even try to laugh out loud when she passes by him. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;this is for the girl who has been there the moment he asked her for help but receive no help from him when she needed him most. this is for the girl who listens to sad music every night, wishing that she can tell him what's really going on inside her heart and mind.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;here's to the one who believed everything that he said. that he promised her he'll be waiting for her till the end only to find out that he already got himself a girlfriend after a month that he said that to her. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;this one is for the girl who gave him a huge amount of clues only to see him chasing a girl who puts too much make-up on. here's to the girl who never left his side, who was led on the moment it started, who believed that everything he said and did to her was more than just a friendly kind of love but it was never true love to begin with.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;this is for the girl who knew it was over before it began but she decided to continue it anyway because she's hoping he would eventually fall in love with her. here's to the girl who allowed the guy to fool her, to let her feel special only to hear him say, "it was a mistake." &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;the one who never believed what people said to her, that she deserve something better and that she should stop all her madness.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;this is for the girl who love him more than anything else in the world. the one who who managed to held on to something that was never there to begin with.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;this is for those confusing days, when he finally said to her that he loves her, that she's thinking that this is it and all her work has paid off but only to find out that he was drunk and he didn't mean it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;this is for the girl who struggle to feel fine, to make everything okay again.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;this is for the girl who fell in love with the wrong guy but was brave enough to receive all the hardships.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;TTFN.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8709407208098549077-1479919314177250481?l=champerez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/feeds/1479919314177250481/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8709407208098549077&amp;postID=1479919314177250481&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/1479919314177250481'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/1479919314177250481'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/2009/09/unrequited-love.html' title='Unrequited Love'/><author><name>CHAM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05245062024591759542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_64dF58M5P7E/R-oDqztmPTI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/SG_kwaN4C4k/S220/cham.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/SqpF9tKAOqI/AAAAAAAAAPU/_8_gzKoge5k/s72-c/Unrequited_by_jericopoet.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709407208098549077.post-4933406009844508806</id><published>2009-09-05T12:54:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-05T13:40:13.654+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='internet'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='haters'/><title type='text'>THEM HATERS.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/SqHy78fx-8I/AAAAAAAAAPM/5pwnQUxkcn8/s1600-h/Untitled-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 344px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/SqHy78fx-8I/AAAAAAAAAPM/5pwnQUxkcn8/s400/Untitled-1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377846541722713026" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;"my name must taste good&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;coz it's always in somebody else's mouth."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;you might think i'm a coward coz i don't speak up and hear you out. you might think you're winning coz i ignore the shit out of you. well, you are so wrong. i banned you for i don't want you whoring my chatbox with your nonsensical post. if i troll your account and post spam messages on your profile, i think you will do what i did to you. but alas, i don't know who you are and that's what makes you so strong that you can just bash me anytime you want. but this time, you have gone to far. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;the way you bashed me in TGPHsucks and in my chatbox, i just let it slide for i know i will get nothing from you except those nasty words coming out from your mouth. yes, i cuss too but not in the same way that you do. i won't tell you to stop coz i know how a hater's brain works. and i won't come to a point where i have to beg you to stop what you're doing either. i am not that kind of a person.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;you hate me because of what i do. a lot of people find TGPHsucks a nasty blog indeed but you can't stop me from contributing to that blog and i can't stop you from whoring my profile. so yeah, go whore it all you want. &lt;i&gt;at least i get a lot of page views. ;]&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;i can't stop you from calling me names (IIRC, you called me a nigger) and saying that i'm a coward coz i don't face you. well then, this blog entry is for YOU. i'm hearing you out alright. you have the spotlight. now start whoring it as much as you want.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;go bash me all you want coz i would love to have a battle of wits with you but you appear to be unarmed. now go and gather all the weapons you have. you need them.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;i think you won't have all that courage build up inside you if you're not hiding from that fugly UN of yours. i know you won't reveal your identity coz you know i would bring you down if you will tell me who you are. make sure you won't get busted coz if you do, then oho for me and boo-hoo for you, my friend.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;you know who you are. gotta love the spotlight, yeah? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;TTFN.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&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/8709407208098549077-4933406009844508806?l=champerez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/feeds/4933406009844508806/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8709407208098549077&amp;postID=4933406009844508806&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/4933406009844508806'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/4933406009844508806'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/2009/09/them-haters.html' title='THEM HATERS.'/><author><name>CHAM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05245062024591759542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_64dF58M5P7E/R-oDqztmPTI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/SG_kwaN4C4k/S220/cham.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/SqHy78fx-8I/AAAAAAAAAPM/5pwnQUxkcn8/s72-c/Untitled-1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709407208098549077.post-8859026046115605699</id><published>2009-08-24T19:41:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-24T20:18:28.428+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='numb'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='changes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='boy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>Thinking</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/SpJ9Wf44XtI/AAAAAAAAAPE/Ec4HiAkvduk/s1600-h/Confusion____by_venus85.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 201px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/SpJ9Wf44XtI/AAAAAAAAAPE/Ec4HiAkvduk/s400/Confusion____by_venus85.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5373495130877091538" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;"she's been hurt many times before this. you'd think it would be a routine by now.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;you'd think she wouldn't let it get to her. but the truth is, &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;she trusted you."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;i have no idea if i still like him but i sometimes caught myself reading back all the messages he sent to me including all those comments he posted in my friendster account. i kinda felt sorry for myself only because i let him ruin me. come to think of it, he let me wait for him and then what? he got himself a girlfriend. awesome. just awesome.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;so what's the point in waiting for him, right? i've given up months ago and why do i still have feelings for him regardless of the things he did to me? i'm just so confused. everything just changed. i'm not a big fan of change. well, bad change that is.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;so here i am, thinking of what i really feel towards this guy. it must not be love, i can assure myself that. maybe its just a plain infatuation? i don't know. all i want to know is why i still have a thing towards this guy. i just want to not like him anymore and just move on with my life the same way he has moved on with his.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;all i want is to be numb. to not feel anything and to live my life painlessly. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&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/8709407208098549077-8859026046115605699?l=champerez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/feeds/8859026046115605699/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8709407208098549077&amp;postID=8859026046115605699&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/8859026046115605699'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/8859026046115605699'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/2009/08/thinking.html' title='Thinking'/><author><name>CHAM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05245062024591759542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_64dF58M5P7E/R-oDqztmPTI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/SG_kwaN4C4k/S220/cham.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/SpJ9Wf44XtI/AAAAAAAAAPE/Ec4HiAkvduk/s72-c/Confusion____by_venus85.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709407208098549077.post-6752849590344508332</id><published>2009-08-16T20:29:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-16T20:42:06.293+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life lessons'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hardships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='trials'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='school'/><title type='text'>Regrets.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/Sof7xGgs1QI/AAAAAAAAAOs/mhjKJzhaqVk/s1600-h/Nervous_breakdown_by_Jenniholma.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 347px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/Sof7xGgs1QI/AAAAAAAAAOs/mhjKJzhaqVk/s400/Nervous_breakdown_by_Jenniholma.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370537901642536194" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;"strength does not come from winning. your struggles develop your strengths&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;when you go through hardships and decide not to surrender,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;that is strength." &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;i am on the verge of breaking down. funny thing is, no one really pushed me to take up Psychology and since i reached second year college, i wanted to change my course but my parents refused.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;research papers, insight papers, journals, reaction papers. what mess did i get myself into? i mean, i am a lazy student and i don't enjoy doing paper works even though i was trained to do so back in HS. i find them very annoying and it sucks up my social life. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;i never really thought Psych would be this hard. if i knew it before hand, i wouldn't have chosen this course and chose HRM instead. at this moment, i would be banging my head on the wall due to my decision.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;don't get me wrong, i love my course so much. it is very entertaining and whatnot but what i hate about it is that IT TAKES A LOT OF PATIENCE, ENERGY AND TIME. it is... hard. i have 2 reports to do next week, a major test and i need to pass my theoretical background which is the hardest part of thesis making and at this point, i only found two theories and it is not enough to support my study. &gt;_______________________&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;shit is all i can say.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;TTFN.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8709407208098549077-6752849590344508332?l=champerez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/feeds/6752849590344508332/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8709407208098549077&amp;postID=6752849590344508332&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/6752849590344508332'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/6752849590344508332'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/2009/08/regrets.html' title='Regrets.'/><author><name>CHAM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05245062024591759542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_64dF58M5P7E/R-oDqztmPTI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/SG_kwaN4C4k/S220/cham.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/Sof7xGgs1QI/AAAAAAAAAOs/mhjKJzhaqVk/s72-c/Nervous_breakdown_by_Jenniholma.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709407208098549077.post-7071461936728038118</id><published>2009-07-26T19:23:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-07-26T20:08:46.177+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='solutions'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='me'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='reality'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='reflections'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='myself'/><title type='text'>ME, MYSELF AND I</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/Smw9SE4ty2I/AAAAAAAAAOU/mjEVckV7t-g/s1600-h/me_myself_and_I_by_ritzyfolio.png"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 248px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/Smw9SE4ty2I/AAAAAAAAAOU/mjEVckV7t-g/s320/me_myself_and_I_by_ritzyfolio.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362728637049981794" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;"it seems that different people have an idea of what am i&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;and what i should be. and then... there's me."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;what am i but a mere mortal lurking in this planet. i'm not perfect nor close to perfection. i have never in my life got contented of what i have. more is what i always crave for. more money, more friends, more gadgets, more books and more awesome stuffs to splurge to. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;i am nothing but a human being incapable of achieving great power. i am nothing more but a teenager hungry for fun, affection and love. i am nothing but a student struggling to pass college and most of all, i am nothing but a daughter who deceives my parents to get what i want because they restrain me from doing so.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;beer, crack, smoke. stuffs that tempt me to become a lesser human being. whatever i do, it's always there. people drinking and smoking right in front of me, rubbing it in on my face, telling me to join them. human as i am, it has always been a struggle for me to flee away from these temptations. i give in and accepted the consequences life has given me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;i have no one to turn to. i face my problems alone. yes, i do have friends and yes, i tell them my problems but never did i ask for their help to solve it. lonesome? no. independent? yes. fucked up? probably. strong? i'm going there. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;"PEOPLE ARE BRINGING YOU DOWN! STEP UP FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!"&lt;/b&gt; uhh. no. i am rubber, they are glue. whatever false, awful rumors they have said about me will just bounce back and it will stick to them. trust me, i am rubber and they are glue. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;"life is short. sin a little."&lt;/i&gt; &lt;--- enough said.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;TTFN.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8709407208098549077-7071461936728038118?l=champerez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/feeds/7071461936728038118/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8709407208098549077&amp;postID=7071461936728038118&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/7071461936728038118'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/7071461936728038118'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/2009/07/me-myself-and-i.html' title='ME, MYSELF AND I'/><author><name>CHAM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05245062024591759542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_64dF58M5P7E/R-oDqztmPTI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/SG_kwaN4C4k/S220/cham.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/Smw9SE4ty2I/AAAAAAAAAOU/mjEVckV7t-g/s72-c/me_myself_and_I_by_ritzyfolio.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709407208098549077.post-1216466711738128644</id><published>2009-07-25T19:53:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-07-25T20:34:06.942+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='confusion'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='problems'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>Messed Up? Probably.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/SmryWVAd33I/AAAAAAAAAOM/41lpo2i9jos/s1600-h/Questions_series_17__Wrong__by_liseva.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/SmryWVAd33I/AAAAAAAAAOM/41lpo2i9jos/s320/Questions_series_17__Wrong__by_liseva.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362364771748142962" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;"stupid Cupid, you're a real mean guy. &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;i like to hit you until you can't fly.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;i am in &lt;s&gt;love&lt;/s&gt; and it's a crying shame&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;and i know that you're the one to blame." -Mandy Moore&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;have you ever liked someone that you're not supposed to like? have you ever felt like the person you are crushing with would be the last person you would have a crush with?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;i have. thrice in my oh so dramatic life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;i have no idea why would i make the same mistakes again. i can assure myself that i'm not in love with this person nor do i have strong emotions towards the said human being. i just find this new interest of mine extremely attractive. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;maybe i'm weird or maybe not. maybe i'm just confused or maybe it was repressed or suppressed or whatever. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;the day i realized that i started to be attracted towards this person, i was hesitant to admit it to myself the truth. my past is starting to haunt me again and i really don't want that to happen. not now, not to this person. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;i'm trying my best to hide everything and to not let people think that i'm this kind of girl. i'm trying everything for them not to think bad things about me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;yes, i can be weird sometimes but this just got out of hand. it already got out of hand 4 years ago and i was proud of myself that i had control of the situation.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;so, in the mean time, i just wish i could wish away my attraction towards this person but i simply can't. these emotions are too hard to control, making me a prisoner of my own self.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;TTFN,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;CHAM&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&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/8709407208098549077-1216466711738128644?l=champerez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/feeds/1216466711738128644/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8709407208098549077&amp;postID=1216466711738128644&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/1216466711738128644'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/1216466711738128644'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/2009/07/messed-up-probably.html' title='Messed Up? Probably.'/><author><name>CHAM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05245062024591759542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_64dF58M5P7E/R-oDqztmPTI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/SG_kwaN4C4k/S220/cham.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/SmryWVAd33I/AAAAAAAAAOM/41lpo2i9jos/s72-c/Questions_series_17__Wrong__by_liseva.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709407208098549077.post-3496426480625997282</id><published>2009-07-12T12:31:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-07-12T12:55:19.254+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='girl'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='boy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='goodbyes'/><title type='text'>farewell, my love</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/SllnmfUYhII/AAAAAAAAANk/K5rhmiQg4vg/s1600-h/To_Bid_you_Farewell_by_Nihil1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/SllnmfUYhII/AAAAAAAAANk/K5rhmiQg4vg/s400/To_Bid_you_Farewell_by_Nihil1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357427142673597570" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;"there's never a right time to say goodbye&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;but i gotta make the first move&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;coz if i don't you gonna start hating me&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;coz i really don't feel the way i once felt about you."&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;-Chris Brown&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;why are some people hold on to the things they should really let go? why do they find it very hard to bid goodbye to the ones they love? why can't they just set them free?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;he told her it's over. she cried and asked him to stay. he said he can't take it any longer and he would be much happier if they end their relationship. she begged him, went down on her knees and tears won't stop falling down her beautiful face. he knelt down, held her tight and kissed her on the forehead. he said he'll give it another shot and she buried her face on his shoulder.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;he found someone new, he thinks she's better than her. she suspects that he's cheating on her, found a way to prove it and made plans to kick the girl out of the picture. it didn't work.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;she was crying all night and thinking of ways to save their relationship. he told her again that it's over but she still wouldn't let him go. he was in misery every time he was with her while she was in heaven every moment they were together.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;she was desperate to get her man back while he was desperate to escape from her arms. she loves him more than anything else in the world. he despises her attitude and every single part of her.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;it was hard for her to say goodbye to him. he has been saying goodbye since the faithful day he met another girl. she still wants to hold on, to be with him in every possible way. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;she's chasing him. her dream man, the man she ever love in her 17 years of existence. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;then she broke down and cried. she couldn't help the fact that he's slipping away.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&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/8709407208098549077-3496426480625997282?l=champerez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/feeds/3496426480625997282/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8709407208098549077&amp;postID=3496426480625997282&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/3496426480625997282'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/3496426480625997282'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/2009/07/farewell-my-love.html' title='farewell, my love'/><author><name>CHAM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05245062024591759542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_64dF58M5P7E/R-oDqztmPTI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/SG_kwaN4C4k/S220/cham.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/SllnmfUYhII/AAAAAAAAANk/K5rhmiQg4vg/s72-c/To_Bid_you_Farewell_by_Nihil1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709407208098549077.post-4471281463559928997</id><published>2009-06-30T15:59:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-30T16:33:05.372+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Music'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='death'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Michael Jackson'/><title type='text'>Rest In Peace, King of Pop</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/SknGe6W4FdI/AAAAAAAAANc/TVWHYRH9adg/s1600-h/Michael_Jackson_by_jrk01.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 224px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/SknGe6W4FdI/AAAAAAAAANc/TVWHYRH9adg/s400/Michael_Jackson_by_jrk01.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353027866470127058" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;"and my goal in life is to give to the world what i was lucky to receive:&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;the ecstasy of divine union through my music&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;and my dance." -Michael Jackson&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;after i knew MJ died, i was really devastated. i really look up to him when i was still a kid. he's my very first celebrity idol. watching him doing his awesome dance moves and having to listen to his very beautiful music surely made my day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;when he was still alive, people were giving him a very hard time. different kinds of lawsuits and huge debts made him look like a bad guy and made people forget how awesome of a person he is. he only didn't give us great songs but he did change the show-biz industry. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;i heard news that he didn't have a skin disease but he was ashamed that he's black. and the other news i heard, it was the other way around. whatever the reason of the change of his skin color, i don't mind because deep down, i can still see the same old MJ i used to love. he's awesome, whatever he looks like.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;the death of a legend is very sad to me and to the world. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;his album sales went up the moment the news broke that he's dead. people started remembering how great of a musician and a dancer he is now that he's not around anymore. sure, people knew him before the tragic day that the Lord decided to take his life but the moment he decided to take a break from the music world, people just forgot about it and moved on to new musicians. i would be a hypocrite if i say that i'm not one of them. i admit, i kinda did forgot about MJ and i started listening to his music again now that he's gone.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;what pissed the hell out of me was some rumors that i read over the internet that he's not yet dead. and the body that was shown in the television was not his and was just a dummy to prove people that he really is dead. some people think that he's faking his death to get away with his debts. people are starting to think that MJ is pulling an "Elvis Presley" moment. my opinion? fuck them people who created this awful news. he's dead and should be respected the same way he's respected back when he was still alive.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;now that he's gone, i kinda miss him, y'know? who wouldn't? he's the king of pop, a legend, an idol and a great musician.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;all i can say is: REST IN PEACE, KING OF POP. :(&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-size:x-small;"&gt;currently playing: Smooth Criminal by Michael Jackson.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;TTFN.&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/8709407208098549077-4471281463559928997?l=champerez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/feeds/4471281463559928997/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8709407208098549077&amp;postID=4471281463559928997&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/4471281463559928997'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/4471281463559928997'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/2009/06/rest-in-peace-king-of-pop.html' title='Rest In Peace, King of Pop'/><author><name>CHAM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05245062024591759542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_64dF58M5P7E/R-oDqztmPTI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/SG_kwaN4C4k/S220/cham.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/SknGe6W4FdI/AAAAAAAAANc/TVWHYRH9adg/s72-c/Michael_Jackson_by_jrk01.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709407208098549077.post-4582506779608816081</id><published>2009-06-23T15:37:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-23T16:04:47.442+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twilight'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='movies'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='maximum ride'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='catherine hardwick'/><title type='text'>CATHERINE HARDWICK. &gt;.&gt;</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/SkCGpjDJyoI/AAAAAAAAANM/zydmfYSK_FE/s1600-h/Maximum_Ride__The_Flock_by_xxOnexx.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 319px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/SkCGpjDJyoI/AAAAAAAAANM/zydmfYSK_FE/s320/Maximum_Ride__The_Flock_by_xxOnexx.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350424405657373314" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;"Maximum Ride is about five average kids with extraordinary&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;powers begin their quest to protect themselves from evil mutants,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;infiltrate a secret facility and while they're at it... save the world"&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;so when i knew that Columbia Pictures is going to make a movie about this awesome series, i was so hyped. having to see Maximum Ride on the big screen was what i have been hoping for since i read the first book.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;then i learned Catherine Hardwick (the director of Twilight. we all know that. &gt;.&gt;) would be directing the first movie. i was srsly bummed. Twilight wasn't even that good of a movie but she also directed The Nativity which is awesome, btw. so i guess it would be alright.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;what pissed the hell out of me was &lt;a href="http://www.max-dan-wiz.com/profiles/blogs/movie-max-amp-fang"&gt;THIS&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://www.mtv.com/movies/news/articles/1613475/story.jhtml"&gt;THIS&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;based on Max's blog (yes, Maximum Ride characters blogs), she's a bit flattered that Catherine Hardwick is  considering KStew (hopefully not) to play as Max and she also want's RPattz to play as Fang. she's bringing them both together because she freakishly wants to reunite them and make the Maximum Ride movie just like Twilight.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Max and Fang are both 14. KStew and RPattz looks too old to play the roles of 14 year olds. srsly. Hardwick should get someone new and better. KStew would bring justice to the character since she looks tough and stubborn but even though she can pull it off, i still don't want her to play the part. and RPattz surely can't pull off Fang. RPattz doesn't look like the mysterious type. and, they already got Twilight!! just because Hardwick got the chance to work with them doesn't mean she can drag them in every movie she'll be directing. that's just sad and wrong at the same time.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;if she'll be pursing this, i don't know what would be the outcome of the movie. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8709407208098549077-4582506779608816081?l=champerez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/feeds/4582506779608816081/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8709407208098549077&amp;postID=4582506779608816081&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/4582506779608816081'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/4582506779608816081'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/2009/06/catherine-hardwick.html' title='CATHERINE HARDWICK. &gt;.&gt;'/><author><name>CHAM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05245062024591759542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_64dF58M5P7E/R-oDqztmPTI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/SG_kwaN4C4k/S220/cham.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/SkCGpjDJyoI/AAAAAAAAANM/zydmfYSK_FE/s72-c/Maximum_Ride__The_Flock_by_xxOnexx.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709407208098549077.post-6842092597782632268</id><published>2009-06-04T20:23:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-04T20:54:45.370+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life lessons'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='happiness'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='reality'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>so much for my happy ending</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/Sie-jOsFTjI/AAAAAAAAANE/xO4M5oEsOsA/s1600-h/ad2c44d49f02336e086a99ea5a0794a2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 249px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/Sie-jOsFTjI/AAAAAAAAANE/xO4M5oEsOsA/s320/ad2c44d49f02336e086a99ea5a0794a2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343448995346075186" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Danielle: a bird may love a fish, signore, but where would they live?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Da Vinci: then i shall have to make yo wings.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;-Ever After&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Beauty and the Beast, Aquamarine, Notting Hill, Memoirs of a Geisha, Pride and Prejudice, Suzanne's Diary for Nicholas are just examples of stories / movies that ended up happily.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;almost all of the stories i've read and all of the movies i've seen always have happy endings. i believe they should not let people especially children think that the world is a happy place to live for it is not. we all stumble from time to time.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;fairy tales may give us lessons after every story but it also let children think that happy endings do exist. but they don't. this is reality and i believe we should give them a piece of it. people are clouding up their mind with fantasies, magical creatures, magic and prince charming. almost every girl wants their own prince charming and almost every girls wants to end up being a princess or a queen of some land.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;as for me, i don't believe on those stuffs. i don't believe a guy would save me from the fortress of the sky, breaking the evil witch's spell and bring me in his castle and making me his queen. i believe in suffering, pain, sacrifices and reality. it'll just end when i turn into dust. i will continue to live in this very cruel world until i die. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;delusions of grandeur is a huge no-no for me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;TTFN. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8709407208098549077-6842092597782632268?l=champerez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/feeds/6842092597782632268/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8709407208098549077&amp;postID=6842092597782632268&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/6842092597782632268'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/6842092597782632268'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/2009/06/so-much-for-my-happy-ending.html' title='so much for my happy ending'/><author><name>CHAM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05245062024591759542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_64dF58M5P7E/R-oDqztmPTI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/SG_kwaN4C4k/S220/cham.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/Sie-jOsFTjI/AAAAAAAAANE/xO4M5oEsOsA/s72-c/ad2c44d49f02336e086a99ea5a0794a2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709407208098549077.post-4094191757407982359</id><published>2009-05-29T13:37:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-05-29T20:08:40.765+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='trials'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='psych'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='school'/><title type='text'>UNDO?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/Sh90sBxlicI/AAAAAAAAAM8/qgCiuyCiTg4/s1600-h/game_over_by_monariza.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/Sh90sBxlicI/AAAAAAAAAM8/qgCiuyCiTg4/s320/game_over_by_monariza.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341115982824180162" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"for the rest of my life, whenever the sky is grey, i'll remember&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;that the blue is still there above the clouds,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;and the sun is still shining."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;there are so many things wrong in my life right now. i can't stand to bear the fact that i can't fix most of them. it's hard for me to simply deal with all these problems. can i just poof them all away? please?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;to start it off, i failed my research 11 subject back when i was in second year college. my teacher was expecting a lot from us. i was supposed to make a thesis and yet she didn't approved it. what's worse was that she was also my human development teacher and she let us do a whole chapter report along with a whole chapter quiz after the report and she expected us to still pass our thesis on time. talk about being demanding! i wasn't able to sleep for days. i started doing my thesis 9 pm and i finished it at around 7:30 in the morning. i slept for 5 minutes then i got ready for school. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;also, my english teacher made us do a magazine. t'was a very hard time for me since i had to do my thesis, make a one chapter report for my human development subject, study for a whole chapter test and make a magazine. since i was focusing on my major subjects, i decided to leave the magazine behind. i did it the night before the deadline and i was doing my thesis on the same night. t'was a chaos. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;after passing my thesis paper, i prepared myself for the mock proposal. i was transferring from one computer to the other since my old computer was full of virus and it had all my files in it. also, i can't open the Microsoft Power Point coz of the virus. so i have to do the PPT in my other computer. t'was a huge hassle.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;the day of my mock proposal, i was srsly panicking. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;then, after a few weeks, i got my grades and i failed research 11 and english 13 (i think t'was 13). i spent months making my thesis for nothing. i abandoned my english class for my thesis and she failed me?! sheesh. all those sleepless nights. *SIGH*&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;so now, this coming semester, i have to take research 11 again coz i can't take psych 16 if i can't pass research 11. i'm so traumatized. jeez, i hate that subject. &gt;.&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;second, i TERRIBLY miss my HS barkada. if you have read my previous posts particularly "MY HOMMIES" you will know why. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;third, i can't go out of the house without my mom suspecting me. she thinks i'm always out doing bad things. and by bad i mean drinking and getting home drunk. ever since i came home drunk when i was in 1st year college, she got really mad and slapped me with a ruler. good thing i was drunk coz if i wasn't, it would've hurt so bad. teehee. she always know if i drank any alcoholic beverages or not. she has a radar or something. tsk.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;fourth, i still don't have Photoshop in my computer. it sucks to be me. srsly.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;i guess that's about it. i srsly have to fix this. :&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;TTFN.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8709407208098549077-4094191757407982359?l=champerez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/feeds/4094191757407982359/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8709407208098549077&amp;postID=4094191757407982359&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/4094191757407982359'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/4094191757407982359'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/2009/05/undo.html' title='UNDO?'/><author><name>CHAM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05245062024591759542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_64dF58M5P7E/R-oDqztmPTI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/SG_kwaN4C4k/S220/cham.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/Sh90sBxlicI/AAAAAAAAAM8/qgCiuyCiTg4/s72-c/game_over_by_monariza.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709407208098549077.post-222595470427959333</id><published>2009-05-28T19:58:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2009-05-28T20:10:15.484+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='walking'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='goodbyes'/><title type='text'>Walking..</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/Sh58eoZuNxI/AAAAAAAAAM0/1FfVCL8Ky_U/s1600-h/SomEthinG_iS_GonE_by_supergrass.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 384px; height: 379px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/Sh58eoZuNxI/AAAAAAAAAM0/1FfVCL8Ky_U/s400/SomEthinG_iS_GonE_by_supergrass.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340843073791211282" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;"your destiny is not tied to the people who walked away."&lt;/div&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;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;i'm proud to say that i'm not waiting for him anymore. i haven't heard from him for almost 4 months. now if he was serious, which i bet he was not, he would actually find time to talk to me. but he didn't. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;i kinda miss him but i'm too hesitant to let him know that.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;anyway, time for me to walk away and not wait for if even if he told me to do so. he has a girlfriend, i have a life to live and if he comes home, i will pray hard not to like him again.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;it's really that simple. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;i'm still confused on why he's letting me wait for him, though. no one really knows what's going on inside a guy's mind and i don't want to know what. :))&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;okay, enough about him. the guy that i was talking about in my post "Time Machine: Past", well, we're friends in facebook and his girlfriend and i are friends in facebook and his ex girlfriend and i are friends in facebook, too. and yes, the three of us knows each other. his girlfriend and his ex knows how close we were back then. so, AWKWARD.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;stalag 14 starts in about 10 days. oh God. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8709407208098549077-222595470427959333?l=champerez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/feeds/222595470427959333/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8709407208098549077&amp;postID=222595470427959333&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/222595470427959333'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/222595470427959333'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/2009/05/walking.html' title='Walking..'/><author><name>CHAM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05245062024591759542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_64dF58M5P7E/R-oDqztmPTI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/SG_kwaN4C4k/S220/cham.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/Sh58eoZuNxI/AAAAAAAAAM0/1FfVCL8Ky_U/s72-c/SomEthinG_iS_GonE_by_supergrass.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709407208098549077.post-217878275602850175</id><published>2009-05-01T14:59:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2009-05-03T10:10:37.150+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='books'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='maximum ride'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='james patterson'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fang'/><title type='text'>Another Good Series to Read</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/Sfz9ELMnwSI/AAAAAAAAAMg/RvvnuXilbDk/s1600-h/01052009377.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/Sfz9ELMnwSI/AAAAAAAAAMg/RvvnuXilbDk/s400/01052009377.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331414307066855714" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"welcome to her nightmare."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Max is almost like every other girl out there. she's 14 years old, has responsibilities, falls in love, makes huge decisions for the good of all, has regrets and made enemies. but there's something in Max and her non biological siblings that we don't have. they have wings. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;they are 98% human and 2% bird. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;and they are on the run. trying to escape from the clutches of evil.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;***&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;that's all i can give you, folks. :) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;anyway, Maximum Ride is one of the best series i have ever read. you should give it a shot, though. also, Fang is cooler than your sparkling Edward Cullen since God knows when. he can srsly kick his ass anytime. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;for more info, go here: http://www.max-dan-wiz.com/&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;in order:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;The Angel Experiment (both in novel and manga version) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;School's Out--- Forever&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Saving the World and Other Extreme Sports&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;The Final Warning&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Max&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8709407208098549077-217878275602850175?l=champerez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/feeds/217878275602850175/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8709407208098549077&amp;postID=217878275602850175&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/217878275602850175'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/217878275602850175'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/2009/05/another-good-series-to-read.html' title='Another Good Series to Read'/><author><name>CHAM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05245062024591759542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_64dF58M5P7E/R-oDqztmPTI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/SG_kwaN4C4k/S220/cham.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/Sfz9ELMnwSI/AAAAAAAAAMg/RvvnuXilbDk/s72-c/01052009377.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709407208098549077.post-8621050404012512340</id><published>2009-03-28T23:21:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-03-28T23:29:40.520+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Anniversary</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/Sc5BMrcHlMI/AAAAAAAAAKs/-kK2yWyDq5s/s1600-h/Birthday_Cake_by_Shiritsu.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 330px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/Sc5BMrcHlMI/AAAAAAAAAKs/-kK2yWyDq5s/s400/Birthday_Cake_by_Shiritsu.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318259896046032066" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"one year and counting."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;i just realized it now that i started blogging March of 2008. so basically, my blog just turned one year this month. XD &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;i used to blog before but never did i stick to one blog. the routine was usually like this:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;create blog ---&gt; update blog ---&gt; got bored updating ---&gt; abandon blog&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;i'm pretty much happy right now since this blog of mine reached a year and hopefully, this will be alive since God knows when. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;also, March 30th is the birthday of my friend and she's celebrating her birthday today. too bad i couldn't come, though. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8709407208098549077-8621050404012512340?l=champerez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/feeds/8621050404012512340/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8709407208098549077&amp;postID=8621050404012512340&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/8621050404012512340'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/8621050404012512340'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/2009/03/happy-anniversary.html' title='Happy Anniversary'/><author><name>CHAM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05245062024591759542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_64dF58M5P7E/R-oDqztmPTI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/SG_kwaN4C4k/S220/cham.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/Sc5BMrcHlMI/AAAAAAAAAKs/-kK2yWyDq5s/s72-c/Birthday_Cake_by_Shiritsu.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709407208098549077.post-66842591768185903</id><published>2009-03-24T17:54:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-03-25T12:20:01.810+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='happiness'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='changes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>I Love Him Near Enough</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/ScluCudhpvI/AAAAAAAAAKk/xJAB9f5GXeA/s1600-h/_L_O_V_E__by_LimpidD.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/ScluCudhpvI/AAAAAAAAAKk/xJAB9f5GXeA/s400/_L_O_V_E__by_LimpidD.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316901828198246130" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"find a heart that will love you at your worst&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;and arms that will hold you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;at your weakest."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;i have no idea on why i kept on posting sad stories about my heart and it's issues. i think it should do me more good if i will post something happy right now. after all, i am happy. :]&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;i met him when i was in second year high school. i have no idea on how we exactly met but all i can remember was that we used to go out drinking together.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;he has this smile that can actually melt my heart, a face that can surely complete my day, a voice that sounds like a musical harmony when he says my name, eyes that can take my breath away every time he looks at me and a sense of humor that never fails to make me laugh when i needed it the most. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;then, without notice, he went somewhere else.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;it took me two years to know where he is right now. after all, i wasn't into him that much back in high school and i don't know why i'm into him this much now that he's gone. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;the time i saw his new friendster account was the time things started to change. we made fun of each other and laugh at the most dirtiest things. that time was the time he broke up with his girlfriend. i never knew it at that moment since he kept on laughing and smiling (i was viewing his webcam) the entire evening. i then figured out when he said that i made him happy and that i was his dose of happy pills. he told me not to change coz i seem to have a potential to make people happy. gah, i can't even make myself happy. &gt;.&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;then, things really started to change big time.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;he want something from me. the thing that i treasure most was the thing that he wants to get. out of the blue, i said yes. i don't even know why i uttered those words but i do have a theory, though. maybe because i like him and i want him to have it since i don't want any guys to have it and i think he's the right one to take it away from me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;the promise was made. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;at first, i thought he was just kidding but then when time passed by, he told me he's serious. so, yeah... i guess i have no choice but to give it to him. after all, i like the guy. ;]&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;6 days after he officially broke up with his girlfriend, he then found someone new. i was tormented actually but then i realized that long distance relationships never works so i decided to let it go. i thought things between us would change. to my surprise, it didn't. we still talk about things that are beyond our imaginations and end up laughing at them. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;he keep on telling me to wait for him. my question is, is he even worth the wait? hmm. i do hope so. what bothers me is that, he has a girlfriend already and why the hell does he want me to wait for him? that's one answer i'm longing to hear.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;it's been 5 days now since i last heard of him. and i kinda miss him.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;also, I DON'T WANNA BE THE EVIL WITCH HE TRIES TO GET IN BETWEEN. i'm actually trying me best to ignore him in all possible ways that i could but he just keeps on springing back. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;what's happening to me right now is what actually happened to me four years ago. i don't want history to repeat itself nor would i want to experience that terrible pain again. i am just going with the flow. :))&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8709407208098549077-66842591768185903?l=champerez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/feeds/66842591768185903/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8709407208098549077&amp;postID=66842591768185903&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/66842591768185903'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/66842591768185903'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/2009/03/i-love-him-near-enough.html' title='I Love Him Near Enough'/><author><name>CHAM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05245062024591759542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_64dF58M5P7E/R-oDqztmPTI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/SG_kwaN4C4k/S220/cham.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/ScluCudhpvI/AAAAAAAAAKk/xJAB9f5GXeA/s72-c/_L_O_V_E__by_LimpidD.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709407208098549077.post-5113766490767924570</id><published>2009-03-20T21:10:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-03-20T21:30:36.923+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dreams'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='goals'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='future'/><title type='text'>will i be able to reach it?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/ScOXBOGLYZI/AAAAAAAAAKc/1AC7LExZxrM/s1600-h/Motivation_by_MrBadger.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 390px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/ScOXBOGLYZI/AAAAAAAAAKc/1AC7LExZxrM/s400/Motivation_by_MrBadger.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315258032446988690" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"you can do anything if you set&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;your mind to it, man." -Eminem&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;i have been thinking about my future since God knows when. at first, i wanted to be a doctor then when i learned it will take me forever to become one, i decided to become a nun. yes, a nun. :)) but then my sister told my that a nun's life is pretty much boring so i decided to cross that out on my list. then, when i reached college, i wanted to become a doctor again. right now i'm still having troubles whether i should take medicine or not. i also wanted to be a lawyer but i don't really see myself as one. so, lowering my expectations, i decided that i wanted to be a special education teacher (a teacher to those who are mentally ill) and teach abroad. out of the blue, i was hit! i now know what i wanted to become.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;i want to become a SEX THERAPIST someday.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;i think it's a pretty cool job. dealing with people who has sex problems and whatnot will surely make my day as entertaining as ever. ;)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;my course has a very huge impact on me. i may whine a lot of not getting enough sleep and having to write all these papers but don't get me wrong, i may sound like i hate my course but i do so love it very much. &lt;3&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;i don't wanna talk or state here that i will be a very good student next school year because i have been saying that line since i was in elementary and up until now, i just can't be one. i do have good grades, though but i'm the kind of student who slacks off a lot. i can say that i'm a student but not a very good one. ;)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;maybe i will become a sex therapist someday. this would be the job that suites me. teehee. ;)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8709407208098549077-5113766490767924570?l=champerez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/feeds/5113766490767924570/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8709407208098549077&amp;postID=5113766490767924570&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/5113766490767924570'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/5113766490767924570'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/2009/03/will-i-be-able-to-reach-it.html' title='will i be able to reach it?'/><author><name>CHAM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05245062024591759542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_64dF58M5P7E/R-oDqztmPTI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/SG_kwaN4C4k/S220/cham.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/ScOXBOGLYZI/AAAAAAAAAKc/1AC7LExZxrM/s72-c/Motivation_by_MrBadger.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709407208098549077.post-1054207153484618218</id><published>2009-03-01T15:16:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-03-01T15:38:18.891+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='crush'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='boy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='answers'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>First?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/Sao2dlYOtOI/AAAAAAAAAKU/PFByIah9Aj4/s1600-h/cute_first_love_by_nymphchen.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 313px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/Sao2dlYOtOI/AAAAAAAAAKU/PFByIah9Aj4/s400/cute_first_love_by_nymphchen.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308114992687396066" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"wish i may, wish i might&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;get your love, get things right&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;maybe you're the one thing that&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;i might never have. God knows when, God knows why&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;maybe now till i die but there's only one thing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;i am sure for now&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;there was never us somehow." -Lick&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;if you have read &lt;a href="http://champerez.blogspot.com/2008_04_01_archive.html"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt; entry, then you would totally understand what i'm talking about.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;what amazes me the most is how feeling close his girlfriend is to me. i was sitting in the canteen, waiting for my friend to return when someone poked me. i looked behind me and i saw her giggling. she was smiling at me. i awkwardly smiled back. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;then, after watching a movie with my friend, i decided to go home. i took out my ipod and started listening to it when i saw them walking in front of me. so, i walked fast. i was listening to some really loud music and couldn't hear anything but the music that was playing. i'm a hundred percent sure that he saw me. i didn't mind him at all. it's as if i didn't see him. i was just walking really fast. then my knees started to wobble then i lost sight of them and decided to sit down.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;i told my friend what happened and she said that he could be my FIRST LOVE.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;i mean, W T F? him? no, please. anyone but him.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;but i don't get why my knees will always feel weak every time i saw him. then my heart beats fast and i couldn't think straight. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;i am very sure that i don't feel anything for him anymore. i have moved on already and it took me a very long time to do it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;is he really my first love? i don't know. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;God, please enlighten me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8709407208098549077-1054207153484618218?l=champerez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/feeds/1054207153484618218/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8709407208098549077&amp;postID=1054207153484618218&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/1054207153484618218'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/1054207153484618218'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/2009/03/wish-i-may-wish-i-might-get-your-love.html' title='First?'/><author><name>CHAM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05245062024591759542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_64dF58M5P7E/R-oDqztmPTI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/SG_kwaN4C4k/S220/cham.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/Sao2dlYOtOI/AAAAAAAAAKU/PFByIah9Aj4/s72-c/cute_first_love_by_nymphchen.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709407208098549077.post-5505417005633980752</id><published>2009-01-31T20:41:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-01-31T21:09:44.749+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='death'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>tick tock tick tock</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/SYRHEzWcBQI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/HTvB95More4/s1600-h/Glass_Wings.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 308px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/SYRHEzWcBQI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/HTvB95More4/s400/Glass_Wings.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297437209523913986" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"the truly painful goodbyes are the ones that are never said&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;and never explained."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;why do some (okie, most) people afraid to die? i mean, death is something inevitable. why feel afraid?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;i'm ready to die. right here, right now. anytime of the day, i'm ready to welcome the angel of death. and no, i'm not suicidal. ;)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;being able to experience the greatness and cruelty of life is awesome. i have learned a lot, met cool people who happened to change my life, met some people who tried to bring me down, experienced hardships and met my real friends. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;but before i die, i want to meet my groom first and have kids with him.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;i don't want to die because of old age. i don't want to die because of an illness, either. i consider sudden death or maybe i could die in my sleep. no pain whatsoever.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;and before i die, i want to tell everyone how they affected my life. srsly. they need to know somehow. they may be cruel or good to me, but still, they need to know. especially those people who made me suffer. if i can't or won't be able to tell them, then i can't have peace of mind and i would still be lurking here on earth, haunting people and scaring the wits out of them. no, i don't want to be a ghost and yes, i believe in those paranormal things especially life after death.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;so, don't fret! death isn't something to be scared of. go into the light and just keep on walking  until you reached somewhere. lolz. =)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&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/8709407208098549077-5505417005633980752?l=champerez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/feeds/5505417005633980752/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8709407208098549077&amp;postID=5505417005633980752&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/5505417005633980752'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/5505417005633980752'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/2009/01/tick-tock-tick-tock.html' title='tick tock tick tock'/><author><name>CHAM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05245062024591759542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_64dF58M5P7E/R-oDqztmPTI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/SG_kwaN4C4k/S220/cham.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/SYRHEzWcBQI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/HTvB95More4/s72-c/Glass_Wings.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709407208098549077.post-2525601103273956829</id><published>2009-01-30T17:28:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-01-30T17:46:45.640+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='crush'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pain'/><title type='text'>Then I Told Him I Love Him</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/SYLI6PVwntI/AAAAAAAAAJs/J5BvibncGmI/s1600-h/The_Couple_by_booters.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 293px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/SYLI6PVwntI/AAAAAAAAAJs/J5BvibncGmI/s400/The_Couple_by_booters.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297017014616891090" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I love you and that's all you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;need to know." -Taylor Swift&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;ASTRAL DATING.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;it is when you imagine yourself you're in a date with the person you like. and in your imaginary date, you tell the person everything you want and can't tell him in reality. then, after imagining, you ask for a sign. and if the sign came true, then that means the person you imagine dating got the message you told him in your imaginary date. and if the sign didn't occur, the person didn't got the message.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;so, i tried this. and in our "date", i told him EVERYTHING. including the pain he caused me. then, i asked for a sign.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;the sign was, if he will IM me in the evening, asking me the certain question i want to him to ask me, then that means he got it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;1 message received.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;he IMed me at 6:05, asking me the question i have in mind. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;i was creep out. srsly.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&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/8709407208098549077-2525601103273956829?l=champerez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/feeds/2525601103273956829/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8709407208098549077&amp;postID=2525601103273956829&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/2525601103273956829'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/2525601103273956829'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/2009/01/then-i-told-him-i-love-him.html' title='Then I Told Him I Love Him'/><author><name>CHAM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05245062024591759542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_64dF58M5P7E/R-oDqztmPTI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/SG_kwaN4C4k/S220/cham.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/SYLI6PVwntI/AAAAAAAAAJs/J5BvibncGmI/s72-c/The_Couple_by_booters.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709407208098549077.post-3302530703717582609</id><published>2009-01-20T21:36:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-01-20T22:11:12.052+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='changes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pain'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='heroes'/><title type='text'>Save Me</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/SXXUZmu9aBI/AAAAAAAAAJA/4OwsoUbvRGI/s1600-h/superman_by_gantian1988%5B2%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293370473403213842" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 291px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/SXXUZmu9aBI/AAAAAAAAAJA/4OwsoUbvRGI/s400/superman_by_gantian1988%5B2%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;"would you save my soul tonight?" -Enrique Iglesias&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;life has been pretty much cruel to me lately. i have come to realize that i had stumbled a lot of times but i eventually managed to get up. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;everything around me has changed. for the good or for the worst, i don't care. i never liked change but it is inevitable.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;***&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;i've been feeling so helpless lately. the guy i like has been giving me a very hard time these days. he became bitter and he started to disdain my feelings. i felt kinda bad but also relieved because i prevented myself from liking him more. things could've gotten worst if i didn't have self control. human as i am, i am very uncapable of controling my emotions which kinda saddens me because as much as i want to keep quite, i eventually blurt things out and make him feel awful of the things he did to me. yes, i can be a bitter person if the situation demands it. i can be sweet, too. :))&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;***&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;great happiness is what i have been searching for the past few years. in my 18 years of existence, i have never felt or expereinced great happiness. only happiness. there is a huge difference of those two, by the way. but, one said that no one can experience great happiness but i'll show them that a person can. soon. when life is not cruel to me anymore.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;***&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;"save me from the nothing i've become." -Evanescence&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;***&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;i can say that i am a strong person but i'm still human and i'm not superman or any superhero out there. even superheroes needs help sometimes. that's why SIDEKICKS exist.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;***&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;but no, i don't need one of those. i don't need a sidekick to help me face the war. i actually need a hero who has experienced what i have been going through. one who can relate to me in every aspects in life. someone who sympathizes with me in times of trouble and gives me words of wisdom to keep me motivated.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;***&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;sidekicks doesn't do all of those. they only kick butts when the hero is weak and has fallen down.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;my hero might only exist in my fantasy but as long as he's within me, i guess i can survive life on my own. i'll just wait for him to arrive. maybe he's still on the other side of the world helping a person in need or maybe he got caught in traffic. who knows? maybe one day he might be knocking on my door step to save me from the clutches of evil called life. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;***&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;for now, maybe i'll just settle for something less. :))&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8709407208098549077-3302530703717582609?l=champerez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/feeds/3302530703717582609/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8709407208098549077&amp;postID=3302530703717582609&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/3302530703717582609'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/3302530703717582609'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/2009/01/save-me.html' title='Save Me'/><author><name>CHAM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05245062024591759542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_64dF58M5P7E/R-oDqztmPTI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/SG_kwaN4C4k/S220/cham.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/SXXUZmu9aBI/AAAAAAAAAJA/4OwsoUbvRGI/s72-c/superman_by_gantian1988%5B2%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709407208098549077.post-4551871266488108596</id><published>2009-01-18T13:38:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2009-01-18T15:07:24.672+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='trials'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='heartaches'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='strong'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pain'/><title type='text'>i was never meant to be crushed. :(</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/SXLCHK5syCI/AAAAAAAAAI4/ozjw3JHYRKA/s1600-h/1073723547_0231032a77_b.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/SXLCHK5syCI/AAAAAAAAAI4/ozjw3JHYRKA/s320/1073723547_0231032a77_b.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292505940554991650" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="  ;font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"Painted with the hell of trials&lt;br /&gt;A girl shaped by a thousand fires&lt;br /&gt;Cut deep by the sharpest years&lt;br /&gt;Only He can bare rainbow tears"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-style: italic; font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;for a psychology student, i'm having a very hard time keeping myself sane.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;people always think that i'm superficial. i'm not. i just happened to like good looking guys with good attitudes. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;he broke the wall that i was trying to re-build. i didn't even reach half-way yet and then BOOM. he destroyed it. :( i was devastated coz it was hard for me to re-build it and now here i am, building it again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;he didn't do me any good at all. at first, it was fun but as the days went by, it wasn't anymore.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;i was unsure of the things he said. i was questioning myself if i should believe him or not.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;he has been boggling my mind lately. he has given me mixed signals which i can't even decipher. should i let him in? should i allow myself to be in the open again? should i believe in the words he said? should i not take it as a joke? should i let myself be humiliated? was he just playing me? should i play along? what should i do? many questions are popping up in my mind and i can't even answer one of them. &gt;.&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;then i saw his status message. he typed the name of his [ex] girlfriend.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;basically, that settles everything. it's all clear now. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;i told him i missed him. he said okie. he used to say, "i miss you too" or anything that will brighten up my day. but he didn't he just said, "okie." which kinda made me feel... i dunno... bad. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;then i posted something in the bulletin board. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;he asked me if he was the one i was referring to. he got it right. i didn't told him it was him, though. maybe he got butthurt or something. well, serves him right. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;one of my guy friends told me he got my back and that he's always there whenever my life gets all tangled up. it was kinda sweet of him to say it. his message made my day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;so, from now on, i'll be very careful. &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/8709407208098549077-4551871266488108596?l=champerez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/feeds/4551871266488108596/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8709407208098549077&amp;postID=4551871266488108596&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/4551871266488108596'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/4551871266488108596'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/2009/01/i-was-never-meant-to-be-crushed.html' title='i was never meant to be crushed. :('/><author><name>CHAM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05245062024591759542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_64dF58M5P7E/R-oDqztmPTI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/SG_kwaN4C4k/S220/cham.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/SXLCHK5syCI/AAAAAAAAAI4/ozjw3JHYRKA/s72-c/1073723547_0231032a77_b.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709407208098549077.post-4379215838578436367</id><published>2009-01-18T10:44:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-01-18T10:56:09.209+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='problems'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='heartaches'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pain'/><title type='text'>ISOLATED</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/SXKX_738-aI/AAAAAAAAAIw/4sYhkcLwe_o/s1600-h/2720192199_5ed545ff1f.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/SXKX_738-aI/AAAAAAAAAIw/4sYhkcLwe_o/s400/2720192199_5ed545ff1f.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292459636773681570" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yo,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i am tired of reaching out to you. i've been doing my very best to restore our relationship. your last comment made it all clear. it made me snap from confusion and i thank you for that.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;you never meant the nice things you said to me in the first place. good thing i was holding myself back.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;all of my questions have been answered. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;now i know you weren't sincere after all. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;*sigh in huge disappointment*&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;:))&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&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/8709407208098549077-4379215838578436367?l=champerez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/feeds/4379215838578436367/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8709407208098549077&amp;postID=4379215838578436367&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/4379215838578436367'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/4379215838578436367'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/2009/01/isolated.html' title='ISOLATED'/><author><name>CHAM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05245062024591759542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_64dF58M5P7E/R-oDqztmPTI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/SG_kwaN4C4k/S220/cham.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/SXKX_738-aI/AAAAAAAAAIw/4sYhkcLwe_o/s72-c/2720192199_5ed545ff1f.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709407208098549077.post-5064279655111249477</id><published>2008-12-30T08:17:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-30T09:09:15.131+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hardships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='trials'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='storms'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='strong'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>I Am Strong</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/SVlpcYO2DoI/AAAAAAAAAII/1hq_mbBRyqs/s1600-h/3100949466_3ef3aa3765.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/SVlpcYO2DoI/AAAAAAAAAII/1hq_mbBRyqs/s400/3100949466_3ef3aa3765.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285371573957955202" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;i'n rain i have struggled. it will not do. -Mr. Darcy, Pride and Prejudic&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;e&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;i have reached to some points in my life where i have struggled but here i am, still standing up.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;in those points, it made me realized that i can't easily be defeated. i don't easily wave my white flag up. it's hard for me to give up something i have worked so hard on.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;people would always say that I AM HAPPY. well, quite true but i'm not. i'm pretty much shattered but i don't let them see it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;look, something horrible happened to me years ago. i have loved and lost and my true friends left me. those experiences molded me to become a better person. i have learned not to fall down. no one helped me in those days that i was broken. i was facing it by myself. those instances made me strong and made me realized that i can't take anyone with me in this journey through life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;my friend used me as an inspiration. he's pretty much going through a rough path right now. and he told me, "you made in through. why can't i, right?" i haven't made it through yet. i'm still getting there. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;it's actually hard for me to basically move on coz i don't have anyone to turn to. i have friends, yes, but they are not there all the time. i guess it's a good idea for me to do this alone. it'll make me stronger than before.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i'm happy of the outcome of this. i am glad to be standing up after all the hardships i have encountered and i am satisfied with almost everything that is going through with my life right now. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i guess people need to fall down sometimes but for me, it is not an option.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8709407208098549077-5064279655111249477?l=champerez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/feeds/5064279655111249477/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8709407208098549077&amp;postID=5064279655111249477&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/5064279655111249477'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/5064279655111249477'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/2008/12/i-am-strong.html' title='I Am Strong'/><author><name>CHAM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05245062024591759542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_64dF58M5P7E/R-oDqztmPTI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/SG_kwaN4C4k/S220/cham.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/SVlpcYO2DoI/AAAAAAAAAII/1hq_mbBRyqs/s72-c/3100949466_3ef3aa3765.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709407208098549077.post-2913900903149316929</id><published>2008-12-13T22:45:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-13T22:47:58.569+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life lessons'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='changes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='learnings'/><title type='text'>The Game of Life</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/SUPKmndcA2I/AAAAAAAAAIA/DqGuKxNzt-Y/s1600-h/2385832654_5edcd925e4_m.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 189px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/SUPKmndcA2I/AAAAAAAAAIA/DqGuKxNzt-Y/s400/2385832654_5edcd925e4_m.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279285952984646498" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"when life gives you lemons,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;you make orange juice&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;and let people wonder how you did it."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i've always thought that i am very unfortunate to live in this cruel world. but i was wrong. as i continue my journey, i learned a lot of lessons about life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;what i learned so far:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;being able to live in this world is already a miracle. i am grateful that i have a chance to experience life unlike the others. death is something i am prepared of but as i live my life, there are certain things i want to do and certain words i want to say to certain people. i am happy that i am here. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;ALIVE.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i am not the kind of person that always play safe. there is no &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;SKIP&lt;/span&gt; button in life. it's either you do it or not. taking risks and be open to change is part of the life cycle. life would be pretty much boring if we do the same things everyday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;people always leave. in my life, friends come and go. mostly, the go but i am always willing to accept them back. i don't hold grudges to those people who have offended or hurt me. in fact, i am very thankful for them since they taught me how to be strong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;young as i am, i am very much happy to explore the world.  i try new things because if i don't, i'm sure i'll regret it in the end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in high school, i am the kind of student whom you see in the principal's office almost every month. i break rules. i found out that i have a very high aggressive drive. i always do things people don't want me to do. i had fun breaking the rules. every time i go out of the principal's office, you'll never see me sad. there is always a huge smile painted on my face. at that point, i have learned that we need to break the rules sometimes. step out of our comfort zone and just do crazy things. i never regretted doing those things. in fact, i am very proud of myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i do not live by the expectations of others. i make my own path. i never like to repeat a history. i want to make my own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i cannot really please others. some people hate me but i let them be. i'm not scared if they talk behind my back. i'm scared if they stop talking about me. i'm just grateful that i have affected their pathetic little lives. may it be good or bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;falling in love and being heart broken is part of everything. i can say that a person can never live life unless if they are able to do the two things mentioned above.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;PAIN.&lt;/span&gt; you can't take away pain. you only have to cope with it. pain never goes away. it is only repressed. once a person experienced the same situation that caused him so much pain, it will eventually come back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;life is a story to tell. i never run out of stories to tell my friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and most of all, the best lesson i have learned about life so far is that, &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;LIFE IS A LEARNING EXPERIENCE.&lt;/span&gt; i commit mistakes, i learn them and i try my very best not to do the same mistakes again. everyday i learn something new and i apply my learnings in my everyday life. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8709407208098549077-2913900903149316929?l=champerez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/feeds/2913900903149316929/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8709407208098549077&amp;postID=2913900903149316929&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/2913900903149316929'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/2913900903149316929'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/2008/12/when-life-gives-you-lemons-you-make.html' title='The Game of Life'/><author><name>CHAM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05245062024591759542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_64dF58M5P7E/R-oDqztmPTI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/SG_kwaN4C4k/S220/cham.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/SUPKmndcA2I/AAAAAAAAAIA/DqGuKxNzt-Y/s72-c/2385832654_5edcd925e4_m.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709407208098549077.post-4781062770541362766</id><published>2008-12-09T23:21:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T23:55:57.971+08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Hommies</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/ST6N9LVZS5I/AAAAAAAAAHo/ZeNWNzsYkTc/s1600-h/125137519l.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 270px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/ST6N9LVZS5I/AAAAAAAAAHo/ZeNWNzsYkTc/s400/125137519l.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277811895478864786" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;i miss them. so, so much.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;my world used to revolved around them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt; how we act so childish that no one can even understand why we're laughing so hard. how we do such stupid things to get ourselves humiliated regardless of the people around us. how loud are voices were even though the person we're talking is right beside us. the times when we broke the rules that we end up being called in the principal's office yet when we got out, we still have those huge smiles on our faces. how we crammed for tests and to keep each other awake, we text them. how we laugh out loud during breaks in the corridors. the times when we used to follow our crushes. lie to our parents to go to some outing. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;basically, i miss everything we once were.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;but now? no more. things aren't the same as before. for me, that is. they still hang out but i'm not with them anymore. i get out of place every time they talk. i was like, "okie. time for me to shut up and listen now." &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;worst experience i had with them was when &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;NONE OF THEM&lt;/span&gt; greeted me during my 18th birthday. i said to myself, "wow. they really do hate me now." not a single text, a personal message or even a comment in my friendster account. i was down. really down. that's when i started to think that they really do have forgotten about me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;even my new friends greeted me. i really felt happy about that coz they remembered even though i didn't spent 4 years of my life with them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;what i treasure the most was my memories i had with them. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;because that's basically what i have left. -memories.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;now, when i browse their friendster accounts and see those happy pictures they have taken, i kinda have this queazy feeling in my tummy. i miss them more that i thought. i felt kinda sad for myself coz i was once one of them and now, i'm out.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;i changed. i know that. but maybe they can't accept the huge changes that took place. maybe that's why i was left behind and maybe that's the reason why i left them. -they can't accept me for who i am and what i have become.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;sorry.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;for the huge change, for the bad attitude, for every thing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;i don't have the slightest idea if they have forgiven me or not. one thing is for sure, we are still talking to each other but i can't help but feel that there's a wall between us. we talk but not like before. short conversations only. and i kinda missed out a lot. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;the short and short of it is that: &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I MISS THEM.&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/8709407208098549077-4781062770541362766?l=champerez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/feeds/4781062770541362766/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8709407208098549077&amp;postID=4781062770541362766&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/4781062770541362766'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/4781062770541362766'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/2008/12/my-hommies.html' title='My Hommies'/><author><name>CHAM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05245062024591759542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_64dF58M5P7E/R-oDqztmPTI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/SG_kwaN4C4k/S220/cham.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/ST6N9LVZS5I/AAAAAAAAAHo/ZeNWNzsYkTc/s72-c/125137519l.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709407208098549077.post-1928062226134566986</id><published>2008-11-02T20:28:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-11-02T20:37:56.713+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='syringe'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='numb'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='boy'/><title type='text'>numb</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/SQ2e2M8TPZI/AAAAAAAAAHg/ztUIkVDSlrU/s1600-h/0f8b7ba70475dae3eb420f01d439241d.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 206px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/SQ2e2M8TPZI/AAAAAAAAAHg/ztUIkVDSlrU/s400/0f8b7ba70475dae3eb420f01d439241d.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264038193490247058" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i guess i was numb. i thought it was over but i'm dead wrong -- &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;AGAIN.&lt;/span&gt; one morning, i woke up and &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;BOOM&lt;/span&gt; -- &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;here comes pain.&lt;/span&gt; it was very unlikely. i thought i was over him and then, out of the blue, it hit me. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;i wasn't over him.&lt;/span&gt; i was numb for the past year. now here i am, sullen by the thought of him. i find it kind of irritating. no matter how i try to forget him and just move on with my life, i just can't. it pisses me off. i want to beat myself for letting him do this to me. it's not even worth it -- &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;he's not worth it.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i want to wake up one day and not feel anything. i want to look at him and not feel anything but mere friendship. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i was expecting to much. maybe that's the reason why it hurts like hell.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8709407208098549077-1928062226134566986?l=champerez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/feeds/1928062226134566986/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8709407208098549077&amp;postID=1928062226134566986&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/1928062226134566986'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/1928062226134566986'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/2008/11/numb.html' title='numb'/><author><name>CHAM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05245062024591759542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_64dF58M5P7E/R-oDqztmPTI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/SG_kwaN4C4k/S220/cham.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/SQ2e2M8TPZI/AAAAAAAAAHg/ztUIkVDSlrU/s72-c/0f8b7ba70475dae3eb420f01d439241d.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709407208098549077.post-283185875865355738</id><published>2008-10-29T13:40:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-29T16:03:39.282+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='edward'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='new moon'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='quotes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='jacob'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bella'/><title type='text'>New Moon Quotes</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/SQf4NvQj-jI/AAAAAAAAAHY/_CvBxL2UotU/s1600-h/2549564357_57cd8a6a5e.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/SQf4NvQj-jI/AAAAAAAAAHY/_CvBxL2UotU/s400/2549564357_57cd8a6a5e.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262447604513634866" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;but this was no dream. unlike the nightmare, i wasn't running for &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;my&lt;/span&gt; life; i was racing to save something infinitely more precious. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;the voice i'd walk through a fire for -- or less dramatically, slosh every day through the cold and endless rain for. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Edward -- still smiling so beautifully that my heart felt like it was going to swell up and burst through my chest. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Edward stood beside me, casting no reflection, excruciatingly lovely and forever seventeen. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i was eighteen and Edward would never be. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i spotted Edward leaning motionlessly against his silver Volvo, like a marble tribute to some forgotten pagan god of beauty.&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; -Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;evan half a year with him (Edward), i still couldn't believe that i deserved this degree of good fortune. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold; "&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Alice:&lt;/span&gt; you're only a senior once. might as well document the experience. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Bella: &lt;/span&gt;how many times have &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;you&lt;/span&gt; been a senior?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Alice:&lt;/span&gt; that's different.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Edward's look wasn't something that could be achieved through imitation. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Edward had &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;a lot&lt;/span&gt; of money. money meant next to nothing to Edward or the rest of the Cullens. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;you (Edward) want a nice stereo? drive your own car. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold; "&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Romeo was one of my favorite fictional characters. until i'd met Edward, i sort of had a thing for him. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i wasn't going to live without you (Bella). &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Edward&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;no matter what might ever happen to me, you (Edward) are &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;not allowed&lt;/span&gt; to hurt yourself. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;the idea of Edward ceasing to exist even if i were dead, was impossibly painful. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;he (Emmette) was in may ways the big brother i ever wanted... only much, much more terrifying. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i have a question. if i develop this film, will you (Edward) show up in the picture? &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;don't do anything funny while i'm gone. -Emmette&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;like everything in my life, i just had to decide what to do with what i was given. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Carlisle&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;the only kind of heaven i could appreciate would have to include Edward. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i looked at Edward. sick as he was, he was still beautiful. there was something pure and good about his face. the kind of face i would have wanted my son to have.&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; -Carlisle&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i've never been sorry that i saved Edward. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Carlisle&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i'd rather die than be with anyone but you (Edward). &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;where you (Edward)  are is the right place for me. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;you're (Edward) the very best part of my life. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;you (Edward) can have my soul. i don't want it without you -- it's yours already!&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; -Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Bella:&lt;/span&gt; you... don't... want... me?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Edward:&lt;/span&gt; no.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;you're no good for me, Bella. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Edward&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;it will be as if i'd never existed. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Edward&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Dr. Gerandy:&lt;/span&gt; are you hurt, Bella?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Bella:&lt;/span&gt; no.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;you're just... lifeless, Bella. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Charlie&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i just want you (Bella) not to be miserable. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Charlie&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;it's been months. no calls, no letters, no contact. you (Bella) can't keep waiting for him (Edward). &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Charlie&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;losing track of time was the most i asked from life. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;it was depressing to realize that i wasn't the heroine anymore, that my story was over. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i would have nightmares, but they wouldn't be zombies.&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; -Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;as much as i struggled not to think of him (Edward), i did not struggle to forget. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i could not&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt; think&lt;/span&gt; of them (the Cullens), but i must &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;remember &lt;/span&gt;them. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;there was just one thing i had to believe to be able to live -- i had to know that he (Edward) existed. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;if i were to go to jacksonville, or anywhere else bright and unfamiliar, how could i be sure he (Edward) was real? in a place where i could never imagine him, the conviction might fade... and i could not live through. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;forbidden to remember, terrified to forget. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;it was a crippling thing, this sensation that a huge hole had been punched through my chest, excising my most vital organs and leaving ragged, unhealed gashes around the edges that continued to throb and bleed despite the passage of time.&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; -Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;it didn't feel like the pain had weakened over time. rather that i'd grown strong enough to bear it. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;whether it was the zombies, the adrenaline or the hallucinations that were responsible -- it had woken me up. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;for the first time in a long time, i didn't know what to expect in the morning. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;sometimes, kismet happens.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;speak of the devil, and the devil shall appear. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Jacob&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i was anxious to be gone, to get back to the human world. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;this had to be it, the recipe for hallucination -- adrenaline plus danger plus stupidity. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Jacob: &lt;/span&gt;Bella! are you alive?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Bella:&lt;/span&gt; i'm great! let's do it again!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;do i look like i tripped on your (Jacob) garage and hit my head on a hammer? &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;if i let myself slip up, i'd end up with my arms clutching my chest to hold it together, grasping for air. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i was like a lost moon -- my planet destroyed in some cataclysmic, disaster-movie scenario of desolation -- that continued, nevertheless, to circle in a tight little orbit around the empty space left behind, ignoring the laws of gravity. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i couldn't stand hurting Jacob; we seemed to be connected in an odd way, and his pain set off little stabs on my own. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;how was i ever going to fight the blurring lines in our relationship when i enjoyed being with him (Jacob) so much? &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Jacob:&lt;/span&gt; i've got loads of time&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Bella:&lt;/span&gt; you shouldn't waste it on me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i can't imagine how i could &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;not&lt;/span&gt; like being with you (Jacob). &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i waited for the memory to hit -- to open the gapping hole, but, as it so often did, Jacob's presence kept me whole. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;one thing i truly knew -- knew it in the pit of my stomach, in the center of my bones, knew it from the crown of my head to the soles of my feet, knew it deep in my empty chest -- was how love gave someone the power to break you. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i'd been broken beyond repair. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i couldn't bear for him (Jacob) to get hurt, and i couldn't bear from hurting him, either. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;even here, on the point of death, his (Edward) name tore against my unhealed wounds like a serrated edge. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;the future was lost to me forever, had never really been within my grasp. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i hated anything that caused him (Jacob) pain. hated it fiercely. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;besides, there'd never been one moment that i wasn't completely aware that Edward Cullen was above and beyond the ordinary. it wasn't such a surprise to find out what he was -- because he so obviously was something. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;well, i'm so sorry that i can't be the right monster for you, Bella. i guess i'm not as great as a bloodsucker, am i? &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Jacob&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;who's afraid of the big, bad wolf? &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Jacob&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Emily:&lt;/span&gt; so, you're the vampire girl.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Bella:&lt;/span&gt; yes, are you the wolf girl?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Emily:&lt;/span&gt; i guess i am.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Jared:&lt;/span&gt; we've got bait!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Jacob:&lt;/span&gt; Bella is &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;not&lt;/span&gt; a bait.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;love is irrational. the more you loved someone, the less sense anything made. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Bella:&lt;/span&gt; life is complicated.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Mike:&lt;/span&gt; and girls are cruel.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;happiness. it made the whole dying thing bearable. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;goodbye, i love you (Edward).&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; -Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i felt a cruel stab of pain when i recognized the voice -- because it wasn't Edward's. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i couldn't imagine my life without Jacob now. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;could i betray my absent heart to save my pathetic life? &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;be happy. -&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Bella's hallucination&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;my visitor waited perfectly motionless in the center of the hall, beautiful beyond imagining. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;leave it to you, Bella. anyone else would be better off then the vampires left town but you have to start hanging out with the first monsters you can find. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Alice&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Alice:&lt;/span&gt; you looked tired.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Bella:&lt;/span&gt; yeah, near-death experiences do that to me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Charlie: &lt;/span&gt;i didn't argue when she (Bella) insisted on staying here... she did seem to get better at first.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Alice: &lt;/span&gt;but?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Charlie:&lt;/span&gt; she went back to school and work, she ate and slept and did her homework. she answered when someone asked her a direct question. but she was... empty. her eyes were blank. there were lots of little things -- she wouldn't listen to music anymore; i found a bunch of CDs broken in the trash. she didn't read; she wouldn't be in the same room when the TV was on, not that she watched it so much before. i finally figured it out -- she was avoiding everything that might remind her of... him (Edward). &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;it was night of the living dead around here. i still hear her (Bella) screaming in her sleep. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Charlie&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;true love was forever lost. the prince was never coming back to kiss me awake from my enchanted sleep. i was not a princess after all. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;it's a bit late for that, Rose. save your remorse for someone who believes it. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Alice&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;don't follow me. i promise, Jasper. one way or another, i'll get out... and i love you. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Alice&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;you are so bizarre, even for a human. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Alice&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;how strongly are you opposed to grand theft auto? &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Alice&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Guard: &lt;/span&gt;is this a joke?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Alice: &lt;/span&gt;only if you think it's funny.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i would never want anything but him (Edward), no matter how long i lived. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;amazing. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Edward's first word after 8 months&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;it was very strange, for i knew we were both in mortal danger. still, in that instant, i felt well. whole. i could feel my heart racing in my chest, the blood pulsing hot and fast through my veins again. my lungs filled deep with the sweet scent that came off from his (Edward) skin. it was like there had never been a hole in my chest. i was perfect -- not healed, but as if there had been no wound in the first place. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;at least i could still be with him (Edward) again before i died, that was better than long life. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;they send you (Jane) out for one and you came back with two... and a half. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Alec&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i love a happy ending. they are so rare. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Aro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i cause problems as often as i cure them. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Alice&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Marcus sees relationships. he's surprised by the intensity of ours. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Edward&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i think she's (Bella) having hysterics. maybe you should slap her. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Alice&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;it was heaven --- right smack in the middle of hell.&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; -Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;how many ways can one heart be mangled and still be expected to keep beating? &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Edward:&lt;/span&gt; i can see where you might confuse me with a nightmare. but i can't imagine what you could have done to wind up in hell. did you commit any murders while i was away?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Bella:&lt;/span&gt; obviously not. if i was in hell, you wouldn't be with me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;you should probably know that i'm breaking the rules right now. well, not technically, since he (Charlie) said i was never to walk through his doors again, and i came on the window. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Edward&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;every second that he (Edward) was here -- so close, his flawless face glowing in the dim light from the numbers on my alarm clock -- was precious and not to be wasted. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;he (Edward) should be happy, no matter what it cost me. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;but how could you believe me&gt; after all the thousand time i told you i love you, how could you let one word break your faith in me?&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; -Edward&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;as if there were any way that i could exist without needing you!&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; -Edward&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i'm here, and i love you. i have always loved you, and i will always love you. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;the way i feel about you (Edward) will never changer. of course, i love you -- and there's nothing you can do about that. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i'm not going anywhere. not without you.&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; -Edward&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;only you could be more important than what i wanted... what i needed. what i want and need is to be with you, and i know i'll never be strong enough to leave again. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Edward&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i'm not strong as you give me credit for. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Edward&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;before you, Bella, my life was like a moonless night. very dark, but there were stars -- points of light and reason. and then you shot across my sky like a meteor. suddenly everything was on fire; there was brilliancy, there was beauty. when you were gone, when the meteor had fallen over the horizon, everything went black. nothing had changed, but my eyes were blinded by the light. i couldn't see the stars anymore. and there was no reason for anything.&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; -Edward&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;there was no distractions from the... agony. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold; "&gt;-Edward&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;my heart hasn't beat for ninety years, but this was &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;different&lt;/span&gt;. it was like my heart was gone -- like i was hollow. like i'd left everything that was inside me with you (Bella). &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Edward&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i thought it was just me. lots of pieces went missing, too. i haven't been able to really breathe in so long. and my heart, that was definitely lost. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i will never leave you (Bella) again. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Edward&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;you will always be the most beautiful thing in mw world, of course. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Edward&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;he (Edward) was irreversibly altered as i was. as i would always belong to him, so would he always be mine. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;he (Edward) really did want me the way i wanted him -- forever. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;he (Edward) wasn't looking at me like i was crazy. he was looking at me like he loved me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;if you're (Edward) staying in your teens forever, then so am i. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Edward:&lt;/span&gt; marry me first.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Bella:&lt;/span&gt; okay. what's the punch line?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Edward: &lt;/span&gt;you're wounding up me ego, Bella. i just proposed to you and you think it's a joke.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Bella: &lt;/span&gt;i'm only eighteen.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Edward: &lt;/span&gt;well, i'm nearly a hundred and ten. it's time i settled down.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Edward and i are sort of a package deal. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;so eager for eternal damnation. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Edward&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;if you (Edward) stay, i don't need heaven. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;with Edward back in place, it was almost as if the last eight months was just a disturbing nightmare. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;the fairy tale was back on. prince returned, spell broken. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i will never be able to tell you (Jacob) how grateful i am. i owe you for the rest of my... existence. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold; "&gt;-Edward. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8709407208098549077-283185875865355738?l=champerez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/feeds/283185875865355738/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8709407208098549077&amp;postID=283185875865355738&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/283185875865355738'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/283185875865355738'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/2008/10/new-moon-quotes.html' title='New Moon Quotes'/><author><name>CHAM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05245062024591759542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_64dF58M5P7E/R-oDqztmPTI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/SG_kwaN4C4k/S220/cham.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/SQf4NvQj-jI/AAAAAAAAAHY/_CvBxL2UotU/s72-c/2549564357_57cd8a6a5e.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709407208098549077.post-5015268469110600734</id><published>2008-10-23T13:24:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-23T17:47:37.633+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='edward'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twilight'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='quotes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bella'/><title type='text'>Twilight Quotes</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/SQBB27zAZHI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/7O01NO_NIzA/s1600-h/838281501_81a5f8f711.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/SQBB27zAZHI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/7O01NO_NIzA/s400/838281501_81a5f8f711.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5260276776789107826" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i just finished reading Twilight again and this time, i was taking down notes. human as i am, i still can't help but fall in love with Edward once again. i thought i was over my addiction to him weeks after reading Breaking Dawn but i was wrong. semestral break came and i am left with nothing to do. so basically, i read the book again. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;this time, im gonna share to you some (or A LOT) quotes that i love the most. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;***&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;no one was going to bite me. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;that's Edward. he's gorgeous, of course, but don't waste your time. he doesn't date. apparently none of the girls here are good looking enough for him. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Jessica&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;so, did you (Bella) stab Edward Cullen with a pencil or what? i've never seen him act like that before. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Mike&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;it was worst because Edward Cullen wasn't at school at all. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;it seem excessive for them (the Cullens) to have both looks and money. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;it's a good thing he's (Carlisle) happily married. a lot of nurses at the hospital have a hard time concentrating with their work with him around. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Charlie&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;the Cullens don't like anybody... well, they don't notice anybody enough to like them. but he's (Edward) still staring at you. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Jessica&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i looked up to see him (Edward) smiling a crooked smile so beautiful that i could only stare at him like an idiot. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i would have written it while he (Edward) looked, but his clear, elegant script intimidated me. i don't want to spoil the page with my clumsy scrawl. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Edward: &lt;/span&gt;but now you're unhappy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Bella:&lt;/span&gt; and?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Edward: &lt;/span&gt;that doesn't seem fair.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;but i'd be willing to bet that you're (Bella) suffering more than you let anyone see. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Edward&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;on the contrary, i find you (Bella) very difficult to read. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Edward&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i felt excited to go to school, and that scared me. i knew it wasn't the stimulating learning environment i was anticipating, or see my new set of friends. if i was being honest with myself, i knew i was eager to get to school because i would see Edward Cullen and that was very, very stupid.&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; -Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i was well aware that my league and his (Edward) league were spheres that did not touch so i shouldn't by at all anxious to see him today. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;then a doctor (Carlisle) walked around the corner, and my mouth fell open. he was young, he was blonde and he was handsome than any movie star i'd ever seen. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i was consumed by the mystery Edward presented and more than a little obsessed with Edward himself. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;that was the first night i dreamed of Edward Cullen. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i couldn't allow him (Edward) to have this level of influence over me. it was pathetic. more than pathetic, it was unhealthy. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Bella:&lt;/span&gt; how do you do that?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Edward:&lt;/span&gt; do what?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Bella:&lt;/span&gt; appear out of thin air.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Edward:&lt;/span&gt; Bella, it's not my fault if you are exceptionally unobservant.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;but i'm tired of trying to stay away from you, Bella. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Edward&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;it was hard to believe someone so beautiful could be so real. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Edward: &lt;/span&gt;i think your friends are angry at me for stealing you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Bella:&lt;/span&gt; they'll survive.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Edward: &lt;/span&gt;i may not give you back, though.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Edward:&lt;/span&gt; what are you thinking?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Bella:&lt;/span&gt; i'm trying to figure out what you are.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Edward: &lt;/span&gt;are you having any luck at that?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Bella:&lt;/span&gt; not too much.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i don't feel like mentioning that my stomach was already full--- of butterflies.&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; -Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;what if i'm not the hero? what if i'm the bad guy? -&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Edward&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;it's healthy to ditch class now and then. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Edward&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;his (Edward) voice was like melting honey. i could imagine how much more overwhelming his eyes would be. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;can you (Bella) walk or do you want me to carry you again? &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Edward&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;there are no secrets in Forks. -&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Edward Cullen was not... human. he was something more. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;when i thought of him (Edward), his voice, his hypnotic eyes, the magnetic force of his personality, i wanted nothing more than to be with him right now. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i was anxious to get out of town so i could stop glancing over my shoulder, hoping to see him (Edward) appearing out of the blue they way he always did.&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; -Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i wanted nothing more than to be alone with my perpetual savior (Edward). &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;he flashed his gleaming smile, dazzling her (waitress) momentarily. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Bella:&lt;/span&gt; you really shouldn't do that.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Edward:&lt;/span&gt; do what?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Bella:&lt;/span&gt; dazzle them like that -- she's (waitress) probably hyperventilating in the kitchen right &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;now.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Edward:&lt;/span&gt; ...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Bella:&lt;/span&gt; oh, come on, you &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;have&lt;/span&gt; to know the effect you have on people.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Edward:&lt;/span&gt; i dazzle people?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Bella:&lt;/span&gt; you haven't noticed? do you think everybody gets their way so easily?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Edward:&lt;/span&gt; do i dazzle you?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Bella:&lt;/span&gt; frequently.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i just couldn't seem to look away from his (Edward) face. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i feel very safe with you (Edward). &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i followed you (Bella) to Port Angeles. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Edward&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Bella:&lt;/span&gt; it doesn't matter to me what you are.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Edward: &lt;/span&gt;you don't care if i am a monster? if i'm not human?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Bella:&lt;/span&gt; no.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i'd rather know what you're (Edward) thinking -- even if what you're thinking is insane. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Bella:&lt;/span&gt; how old are you?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Edward:&lt;/span&gt; seventeen.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Bella:&lt;/span&gt; how long have you been seventeen?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Edward:&lt;/span&gt; a while.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i don't &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;want&lt;/span&gt; to become a monster. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Edward&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;it's a bit easier to be around you (Bella) when i'm not thirsty. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Edward&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;it makes me anxious to be away from you (Edward). &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i was frustrated, almost angry as i thought of how much disappointment i had suffered because of his (Edward) absence. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i didn't like it. not seeing you (Bella). it makes me anxious, too. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Edward&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i'm dangerous, Bella -- please grasp that. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Edward&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;you (Bella) were right -- i'm definitely fighting fate trying to keep you alive.&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; -Edward&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i turned and he (Edward) was leaning toward me, his pale glorious face just inches from mine. my heart stopped beating. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;about three things i'm absolutely positive. first, Edward was a vampire. second, there was a part of him -- and i didn't know how potent that part might be -- that thirsted for my blood. and third, i was unconditionally and irrevocably in love with him.&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; -Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Edward: &lt;/span&gt;what, no twenty questions today?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Bella:&lt;/span&gt; do my questions bother you?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Edward: &lt;/span&gt;not as much as your reactions do.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Bella: &lt;/span&gt;do i react badly?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Edward:&lt;/span&gt; no, that's the problem. you take everything cooly. -- it's unnatural. it makes me wonder what you're really thinking.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Bella:&lt;/span&gt; i always tell you what i'm thinking.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Edward:&lt;/span&gt; you edit.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Bella: &lt;/span&gt;not very much.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Edward:&lt;/span&gt; enough to drive me insane.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Bella:&lt;/span&gt; if she (Rosalie) has &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;that&lt;/span&gt; (red convertible), why does she ride with you?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Edward:&lt;/span&gt; like i said, it's ostentatious. we &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;try &lt;/span&gt;to blend in.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Bella:&lt;/span&gt; you don't succeed.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;w-o-w. Edward Cullen. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Jessica&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Jessica:&lt;/span&gt; i don't know how you're brave enough to be alone with him (Edward). &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Bella:&lt;/span&gt; why?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Jessica: &lt;/span&gt;he's so intimidating. i wouldn't know what to say to him.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;oh, well. he (Edward) &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;is&lt;/span&gt; unbelievably gorgeous. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Jessica&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Jessica:&lt;/span&gt; so you like him then?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Bella:&lt;/span&gt; yes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Jessica:&lt;/span&gt; i mean, do you really like him?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Bella:&lt;/span&gt; yes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Jessica: &lt;/span&gt;how much do you like him?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Bella:&lt;/span&gt; too much. more than he likes me but i don't see how i can help that.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;but outside the door to our spanish class, leaning against the wall -- looking more like a greek god than anyone had a right to -- Edward was waiting for me. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Bella:&lt;/span&gt; you're doing it again.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Edward:&lt;/span&gt; do what?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Bella:&lt;/span&gt; dazzling me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;if leaving was the right thing to do, then i'll hurt myself to keep from hurting you (Bella), to keep you safe. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Edward&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;of all the things that could frighten you (Bella), you worry about my driving. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Edward&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;he (Edward) was smiling, relaxed -- and as usual, perfect and beautiful to an excruciating degree. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;the faster i move, the sooner i would be with Edward. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;he (Edward) grinned his crooked smile at me. stopping my breath and my heart. i couldn't imagine how an angel could be anymore glorious. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Bella:&lt;/span&gt; they don't like me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Edward: &lt;/span&gt;that's not it. they don't understand why i can't leave you alone.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Bella: &lt;/span&gt;neither do i for that matter.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;since i'd come to Forks, it really seemed like my life was about him (Edward).&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; -Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;why did he (Edward) have to look like a runway model when i couldn't? -&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;there was no way this godlike creature (Edward) could be meant for me. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;his (Edward) cold touch on my skin never failed to make my heart thud erratically.&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; -Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;smooth like marble, glittering like crystal. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;it's too easy to be myself with you (Bella). &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Edward&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;his (Edward) golden eyes mesmerized me. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i swear not to hurt you (Bella). &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Edward&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i'm essentially a self fish creature. i crave your (Bella) company too much to do what i should. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Edward&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;yes, you (Bella) are &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;exactly&lt;/span&gt; my brand of heroin. -&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Edward&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;in the pure air of the mountains it was hard to believe you (Bella) were so irresistible. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Edward&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;all i could think was,&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt; "not her (Bella)"&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Edward&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i did my very best to stay far from you (Bella) as possible. and everyday the perfume of your skin, your breath, your hair... it hit me as hard as the first day. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Edward&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Bella, i couldn't live myself if ever i hurt you. you don't know how it's tortured me.&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; -Edward&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;you (Bella) are the most important thing to me now. the most important thing to me ever.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Edward&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i'd rather die than stay away from you (Edward).&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; -Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Edward: &lt;/span&gt;and so the lion fell in,love with the lamb.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Bella: &lt;/span&gt;what a stupid lamb.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Edward: &lt;/span&gt;what a sick, masochistic lion.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i couldn't think of anything, except he (Edward) was touching me.&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; -Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;as you (Bella) are not addicted to any illegal substances, you can't probably empathize completely. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Edward&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i'm not used to feeling so human. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Edward&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;his (Edward) beauty stunned my mind-- it was too much, an excess i couldn't grow accustomed to.&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; -Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;he (Edward) dazzled my eyes. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Edward:&lt;/span&gt; besides, friends don't let friends drive drunk.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Bella: &lt;/span&gt;drunk?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Edward:&lt;/span&gt; you're intoxicated by my very presence.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Bella: &lt;/span&gt;you spied on me?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Edward: &lt;/span&gt;what else is there to do at night? if i could dream at all, it would be about you and i'm not ashamed of it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;just give me a minute to restart my heart. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;you're driving me crazy.&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; -Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;in the last hundred years or so, i never imagined anything like this. i didn't believe i would ever find someone i wanted to be with. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Edward&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;bring on the shackles -- i'm your (Bella) prisoner. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Edward&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;as you (Bella) were sleeping, you spoke my name. you spoke so clearly, at first i thought you'd woken. but you rolled over restlessly and mumbled my name once more. i sighed. the feeling that coursed through me then was unnerving, staggering and i knew i couldn't ignore you any longer.&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; -Edward&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;just because i'm resisting the wine, doesn't mean i can't appreciate the bouquet. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Edward&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;your (Bella) hair looks like a haystack... but i like it. -&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Edward&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Bella:&lt;/span&gt; i love you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Edward: &lt;/span&gt;you are my life now.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i'm not afraid of &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;them&lt;/span&gt; (Edward's family). i'm afraid they won't like me. -&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Bella:&lt;/span&gt; will you really be here?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Edward: &lt;/span&gt;as long as you want me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Bella: &lt;/span&gt;i'll always want you. forever.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;it was hard to decide what to wear. i doubted there are any etiquette books detailing how to dress when your vampire sweetheart takes you home to meet his (Edward) vampire family. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;the smell of his (Edward) breath made it impossible to think. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Edward: &lt;/span&gt;you're worried not becuase you're headed to meet a houseful of vampires, but             because you think those vampires won't approve of you, correct?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Bella:&lt;/span&gt; that's right.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Edward: &lt;/span&gt;you're incredible.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;it was like meeting a fairy tale -- Snow White (Esme), in the flesh. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i hate to burst your (Edward) bubble, but you're reall not as scary as you think you are. i don't find you scary at  all. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Alice: &lt;/span&gt;let's go see if Carlisle would come.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Jasper: &lt;/span&gt;as if you don't know!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Charlie:&lt;/span&gt; you said last night that you weren't interested in any of the boys in town.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Bella:&lt;/span&gt; well, Edward doesn't live in town, dad.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Edward stood in the halo of the porch light, looking like a male model in an advertisement for a raincoat. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;he (Edward) flashed his crooked smile, leaving me breathless. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i'm with you.&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; -Emmette&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;maybe i was flattering myself that i was making life more interesting for you (Bella).&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; -Edward&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Alice's phone seemed to be at her ear before it buzzed. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;our family is strong, our only fear is losing you (Bella).&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; -Jasper&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;it's been almost a century that Edward's been alone. now he's found you (Bella). you can't see the changes we see, we who have been with him for so long. do you think any of us want to look into his eyes for the next hundred years if he loses you? &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Alice&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Bella: &lt;/span&gt;i miss you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Edward: &lt;/span&gt;i know, Bella. believe me, i know. it's like you've taken half myself away with you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Bella:&lt;/span&gt; come and get it, then.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Edward: &lt;/span&gt;soon, as soon as i possibly can. i will make you safe first.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Bella: &lt;/span&gt;i love you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Edward:&lt;/span&gt; could you belive that, despite everything i've put you through, i love you, too?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Bella:&lt;/span&gt; yes, i can, actually.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Edward: &lt;/span&gt;i'll come for you soon.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Bella:&lt;/span&gt; i'll be waiting.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;immortality must grant endless patience. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and then i carefully sealed away my heart.&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; -Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;it was amazing how every cell in my body seemed to know he (Edward) was coming, to long for his coming.&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; -Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;to be trapped in a hotel room with him (Edward) would be a kind of  heaven. -Bella&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i could talk to him (Edward) forever, never sleeping, never leaving his side. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i wished for the green, protective forests of Forks... of &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;home.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;you can sleep, sweetheart (Bella), i'll carry you. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Edward&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;my mom was here and i was recovering from a vampire attack. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Bella: &lt;/span&gt;don't i taste as good as i smell?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Edward:&lt;/span&gt; even better -- better than i imagined.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Bella:&lt;/span&gt; i'm sorry.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Edward:&lt;/span&gt; of all the things to apologize for.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Bella:&lt;/span&gt; what should i apologize for?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Edward:&lt;/span&gt; for nearly taking yourself away from me forever.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;you're lucky doctor Cullen was there. he's such a nice man... very young, though. and he looks more like a model than a doctor. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Renée&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Renée: &lt;/span&gt;Bella, you hate Forks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Bella: &lt;/span&gt;it's not that bad.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Renée:&lt;/span&gt; is it this boy (Edward)?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Bella:&lt;/span&gt; he's part of it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Renée:&lt;/span&gt; i think this boy (Edward) is in love with you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Bella:&lt;/span&gt; i think so, too.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Renée: &lt;/span&gt;how do you feel about him?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Bella:&lt;/span&gt; i'm pretty crazy about him.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;if it weren't for you (Edward), i would be rotting away in Forks cemetery. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i want to be superman, too. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Edward:&lt;/span&gt; i'm hardly a lottery prize.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Bella:&lt;/span&gt; that's right. you're much better.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;as long as it makes you (Bella) happy, i'll be here. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Edward&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;would i even get used to his (Edward) perfection? &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;twilight again. another ending. no matter how perfect the day is, it always has to end. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Edward&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i wish there was some way to explain how uninterested i was in a normal human life. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Bella:&lt;/span&gt; a girl can dream&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Edward:&lt;/span&gt; is that what you dream about? being a monster?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Bella:&lt;/span&gt; not exactly. i dream about being with you forever.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Bella:&lt;/span&gt; i love you more than everything else in this world combined. isn't that enough?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Edward:&lt;/span&gt; yes, it's enough. enough for forever. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;***&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;i didn't expect it would be &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;THIS&lt;/span&gt; long. :D hope you enjoyed!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8709407208098549077-5015268469110600734?l=champerez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/feeds/5015268469110600734/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8709407208098549077&amp;postID=5015268469110600734&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/5015268469110600734'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/5015268469110600734'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/2008/10/i-just-finished-reading-twilight-again.html' title='Twilight Quotes'/><author><name>CHAM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05245062024591759542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_64dF58M5P7E/R-oDqztmPTI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/SG_kwaN4C4k/S220/cham.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/SQBB27zAZHI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/7O01NO_NIzA/s72-c/838281501_81a5f8f711.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709407208098549077.post-1262528115232882</id><published>2008-10-15T19:13:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-15T19:28:55.759+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='post'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bulletin'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='immature'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friendster'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hate'/><title type='text'>hate post: retard much?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/SPXRnj5UnaI/AAAAAAAAAGo/_hRSfoaaXn8/s1600-h/Playdough_Man_On_Computer.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/SPXRnj5UnaI/AAAAAAAAAGo/_hRSfoaaXn8/s400/Playdough_Man_On_Computer.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257338617605692834" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;so basically, i was browsing through my friendster account when i stumbled into a bulletin post. it really caught my attention because this girl is using her best friend's account. i opened it, read it and got infuriated by what she wrote. i mean, could she be more immature? &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;her post was about this girl trying to &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;hypothetically&lt;/span&gt; ruin her relationship with her best friend. her best friend is a guy who is rumored to be her boyfriend. so, back to the story, she was like, &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"i don't care."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; yeah, if she doesn't care, why did she bother to post, right? oh, come on. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;SHE CARES.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;what annoys me the most is that she posted it in the bulletin board. for what reason? to let people know and see how tough she is? for real. no one is threatened if someone quarrels you using friendster and the key board as self defense. she could just confront the girl or send her a PM. it doesn't have to go public.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and one more thing, i'm making a blog about her because i hate her. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;that's all. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/SPXRdxtVexI/AAAAAAAAAGg/SphO3lySAmg/s1600-h/Playdough_Man_On_Computer.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&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/8709407208098549077-1262528115232882?l=champerez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/feeds/1262528115232882/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8709407208098549077&amp;postID=1262528115232882&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/1262528115232882'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/1262528115232882'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/2008/10/hate-post-retard-much.html' title='hate post: retard much?'/><author><name>CHAM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05245062024591759542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_64dF58M5P7E/R-oDqztmPTI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/SG_kwaN4C4k/S220/cham.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/SPXRnj5UnaI/AAAAAAAAAGo/_hRSfoaaXn8/s72-c/Playdough_Man_On_Computer.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709407208098549077.post-7877825633170867349</id><published>2008-09-20T00:20:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-09-20T00:44:25.273+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='never'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='unrequited'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='story'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fantasy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>Unrequited Love</title><content type='html'>what can i say about the guy i met when i was 16?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that i love the way he laughs at me when i commit mistakes, the way he fusses over silly things and the way he tries to piss me off just to get my attention? somehow, i wished i told that i love him but now, there's no hope in doing so. for now, it's rather too late for me to do so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;he knew almost all my secrets, which reveals my feelings for him, that I love him not only because he's handsome and smart but also the way he laughs at everything and the way he sees life and love. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many times I tried to deny the feeling for I was scared to imagine what would happen if ever I'd try to tell him how I feel about him. I was scared because he might think that I'm taking advantage of him and our friendship. I was afraid of losing him so I just kept my feelings hidden. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then one day, I just learned from a friend that he already had a girlfriend. At first, I tried to convince myself that it was just a rumor. His girlfriend was Lyn, his classmate. When I saw them walking together at the mall that afternoon, I watched him with my heart slowly breaking into pieces. I saw him smile at me but I just pretended not to see him for I was scared that he might see in my eyes the pain I'm feeling inside because of seeing him with another girl. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those days that followed where the saddest days of my life. How my heart aches when I see him walk by me with him at her side. every time we meet in hallways and I see her around him, there's a feeling inside me that makes me want to grab him away from her. How it hurts to see the guy I long possess was now owned by somebody else. That special smile I long for him to cast on me was now casted on her. as he passes by me he doesn’t know that I whisper the words &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;"God how I love you." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So many chances I had for me to confess my feelings for him but still I couldn't bring myself to him for I was scared of losing him once more. I once lost him, now I could not bear of losing him again by telling him I love him. So I just kept my feelings hidden even if it was bursting to be expressed from my aching heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did everything to please him because I love him so much that I even tried to fool myself that he's in love with me, too. So many nights I've cried when I think of myself unloved by him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could not bear to hear that all he feels for me is just brotherly hand of love. For I want him to love me as a woman and not as a girl or playmate. So I just turned away and left.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8709407208098549077-7877825633170867349?l=champerez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/feeds/7877825633170867349/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8709407208098549077&amp;postID=7877825633170867349&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/7877825633170867349'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/7877825633170867349'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/2008/09/unrequited-love.html' title='Unrequited Love'/><author><name>CHAM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05245062024591759542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_64dF58M5P7E/R-oDqztmPTI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/SG_kwaN4C4k/S220/cham.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709407208098549077.post-1981524792138696608</id><published>2008-08-22T19:30:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-08-22T19:54:47.258+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='leave'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='goodbyes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='alone'/><title type='text'>People Always Leave</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/SK6kLzskOEI/AAAAAAAAAEw/p01sytKt_EU/s1600-h/myart_comics3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/SK6kLzskOEI/AAAAAAAAAEw/p01sytKt_EU/s320/myart_comics3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237303939441113154" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;People around me is slowing drifting away. I didn't even had the chance to say goodbye to them. I wasn't ready to face the world without these people. they have been my comfort zone and I didn't do anything to stop them from leaving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and this guy who I got really close to is going to leave two years from now. we've been hanging out lately and I really like him. too bad he's leaving. :(&lt;br /&gt;I'm starting to share my life to him piece by piece.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not yet ready to lose another friend let alone seeing him leave. it would really be hard on my part since he is so special to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the door is always open. they will always leave. we might not like it,  but we have no choice but to see those people walk out through that door and hopefully they will walk in again soon and wish that they would stay for good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really hate seeing people leave especially people who is special to me and has made a big difference in my life. I love them and I will always will. -always and forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sure they will come back. time pass by so fast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm surely gonna mish him. I'm surely gonna miss them. :[&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8709407208098549077-1981524792138696608?l=champerez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/feeds/1981524792138696608/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8709407208098549077&amp;postID=1981524792138696608&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/1981524792138696608'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/1981524792138696608'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/2008/08/people-always-leave.html' title='People Always Leave'/><author><name>CHAM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05245062024591759542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_64dF58M5P7E/R-oDqztmPTI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/SG_kwaN4C4k/S220/cham.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/SK6kLzskOEI/AAAAAAAAAEw/p01sytKt_EU/s72-c/myart_comics3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709407208098549077.post-7760529280668355386</id><published>2008-06-22T21:20:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T13:44:55.870+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='man'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='prince'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='looking'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='frog'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='crush'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ideal'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='waiting'/><title type='text'>My Frog Prince</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/SF-Cz7xiDzI/AAAAAAAAAEo/_JzZ6NETZnI/s1600-h/My_prince_will_come_by_Blo0wm0on.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/SF-Cz7xiDzI/AAAAAAAAAEo/_JzZ6NETZnI/s320/My_prince_will_come_by_Blo0wm0on.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215030722248707890" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My ideal man is every other girl's typical night in shining armour riding on a white horse up to my palace, battling beast and carrying me off to his castle and asking me to be his queen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you ask me, I call them day dreams. that's what i usually do when I'm bored in class or alone. yes, I am a day dreamer and yes, I do day dream of boys and how it would make me feel to be with one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I have to name all my ideal men, this would take me hours or even days to finish. I am completely drooling over Chace Crawford, James Lafferty, Chad Murray, Pierce Bronson and all those boy candies you see in televion. But this is impossible for me to reach. so, lowering my standards, reality wise, (that means no more boy candies on the list) I guess I'm on the search for the next chapter of my story, my very own frog prince.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To be really honest, as much as I want to sparkle, I just can't deny the fact that I am just another ordinary girl with a gift of wit. I have to go to school every morning, do household chores and in my life, there will always be boys present in my brain, thinking one after the other. I think it's better this way. Why? because it's never easy getting hurt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish frog prince would be...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish he never do anythig to hurt me or if he does, he'll always be there to comfort me in times of my needs. I want him to be my best pal. I want him to be suportive and stops me every time I do something stupedic. Loyalty is also a big thing for me as well. When he says he misses me, I want him to mean every word of it, when he says he'll meet me later, he will. And when he finally tells me those 3 magic words, He'll mean it with all his heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just wondered what happened to the old times? where a guy courts you and at the same time courts your parents, serenading outside your house and gives you flowers and all those cheesy yet sweet gestures. It's because our generation today has lots more technologies to offer but this is not enough for me. I want a real man, an "i-want-to-make-this-relationship-to-work" man. Because my parents told me that if the guy is true to you, he will do whatever it takes to finally get your heart and also considers everything you have and everything you don't have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I believe that a real man isn't afraid to show his real self. When it comes to physical features, definetely he'll compliment me. But it doesn't really matter in the end, I guess what really matters to me is that i'd find someone who would bring out the best in me (and at the same time I'm bringing out the best in him) , someone who would try to make me pursue my dreams and give me a great reasons to live. Someone who would accept me for who I am and my future self. I guess all I really need is a little happiness in the wasteland. A rainbow who gives color in my life, a little something to smile, laugh out loud, makes me do happy dancing and blush about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I'm definetely not in a hurry. Even if it takes a little longer than expecting then I wouldn't mond because I know I wasn't created to be alone forever. He's just isn't here yet, I get that. Save the best for last, I get that too but in the mean time, I'm just a pink paperclip princess waiting for my blue paperclip prince to come and outshine the others.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8709407208098549077-7760529280668355386?l=champerez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/feeds/7760529280668355386/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8709407208098549077&amp;postID=7760529280668355386&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/7760529280668355386'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/7760529280668355386'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/2008/06/my-frog-prince.html' title='My Frog Prince'/><author><name>CHAM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05245062024591759542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_64dF58M5P7E/R-oDqztmPTI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/SG_kwaN4C4k/S220/cham.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/SF-Cz7xiDzI/AAAAAAAAAEo/_JzZ6NETZnI/s72-c/My_prince_will_come_by_Blo0wm0on.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709407208098549077.post-4670347901736871562</id><published>2008-06-22T10:08:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T13:44:55.963+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='martyrdom'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='boy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='waiting'/><title type='text'>I'll Be Waiting</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/SF20tDGVGKI/AAAAAAAAAEI/gpHzJrmEZRc/s1600-h/Waiting_by_techoveride.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/SF20tDGVGKI/AAAAAAAAAEI/gpHzJrmEZRc/s320/Waiting_by_techoveride.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214522629583870114" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="bodytext"&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;this is one out of the many &lt;strong&gt;SAD&lt;/strong&gt; stories i will share. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;have you ever heard of a very sad story that you can't hold back your tears? -i have. it is so heartbreaking that even the storyteller cried. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;   &lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"I WILL BE WAITING"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;  &lt;/blockquote&gt;is what he said. then a single tear fell down from his sad eyes. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;it all started with a debate between me and my classmate then he suddenly, out of nowhere, said a word. i told him, &lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;"we have to talk."&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;after all those clarifications about what happened between him and a friend, i began to open up a topic about his past relationship. since the start of the conversation, i seemed to notice that he kept on looking down. a sign of a very hurtful past that he doesn't want to forget. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;he didn't hesitate to tell us his story and we are also eager to listen. he told us his heartbreaking past and i can really see the sincerity, loyalty, sacrifice and the sadness in his eyes. it's as if i can feel his pain as he described what happened to him and his former gf.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"THE DOOR OF MY HEART IS ONLY OPEN FOR ONE GIRL... AND THAT IS HER."&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;after their break-up, he didn't commit to any relationships nor did he have any flings. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"I'M NOT YET READY FOR ANY COMMITMENTS. NOT NOW."&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;p style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;then he said, &lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;"she is the reason why i play dota alot. everytime i play that game, i forget everything about her and that makes me happy. but after playing for 3-5 hours, the sadness comes back and i start thinking about her again."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;i kept on looking at him. then i said, &lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;"isn't it unfair that she is happy and you're here waiting for her to come back?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt; then he replied with a very sad tone, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;"no. she will come back."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;p style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; then i told him,&lt;blockquote&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;"what if she won't?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;then he said,&lt;blockquote&gt; &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;"she will. i know she will.. hopefully."&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; then i asked him, &lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;"aren't you tired of waiting for her?" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;then he told me, &lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;"it's been 19 months since our break-up and guess what? i'm still waiting."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;then tears fell down from his eyes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;/div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;  &lt;p style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;the girl kept on pushing him away. &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"I KEEP ON LOOKING AT HER FRIENDSTER PROFILE EVERY NIGHT.&lt;/strong&gt; then my heart feels heavy seeing her happy with another guy."&lt;/blockquote&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;they've been together for 2 years, it's been 19 months since they broke-up. she's happy with another guy. he's waiting for her to come back in his arms.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;isn't it sad? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I WILL BE WAITING&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt; &lt;/span&gt;is what he keeps on saying. then he flashed a fake smile. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8709407208098549077-4670347901736871562?l=champerez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/feeds/4670347901736871562/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8709407208098549077&amp;postID=4670347901736871562&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/4670347901736871562'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/4670347901736871562'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/2008/06/ill-be-waiting.html' title='I&apos;ll Be Waiting'/><author><name>CHAM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05245062024591759542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_64dF58M5P7E/R-oDqztmPTI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/SG_kwaN4C4k/S220/cham.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/SF20tDGVGKI/AAAAAAAAAEI/gpHzJrmEZRc/s72-c/Waiting_by_techoveride.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709407208098549077.post-6951254418499644019</id><published>2008-05-07T22:45:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T13:44:56.107+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='star wars'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life lessons'/><title type='text'>star wars: life lessons</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/SCHBVKkVJYI/AAAAAAAAADY/AiTFi7wmOpU/s1600-h/starwars.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/SCHBVKkVJYI/AAAAAAAAADY/AiTFi7wmOpU/s320/starwars.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5197648014320412034" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span&gt;yes. they truly are.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; -cham&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;star wars movies made me realize that there is more to life than wanting to become who i want to be. i've learned alot of lessons from these films and i hope you guys did too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's a matter of pursuing your dreams by not hurting anyone you truly love.&lt;br /&gt;sure, ani may left his mom for him to become a jedi but he came back for her in just the nick of time. he may want to have great power because he &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;thought&lt;/span&gt; that could save his beloved wife, padmé. we all make mistakes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt; &lt;blockquote&gt;padmé:&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;i'm not going to die in childbirth, anakin. I promise you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anakin:&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;no, I promise you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt; &lt;/div&gt; yes, he have made some bad decisions but i said to myself, "he will do everything he can do just to save padmé even if his life is at stake. the only problem is, getting to the dark side will not solve everything." it's all about making &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;good&lt;/span&gt; decisions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; doing something &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;bad&lt;/span&gt; will not make the situation&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; good&lt;/span&gt;. it'll make it worse.&lt;br /&gt;that's also one out of the many lessons i've learned while watching star wars.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt; &lt;blockquote&gt;anakin: &lt;span&gt;I won't lose you the way I lost my mother. I am becoming more powerful than any Jedi has ever dreamed of, and I'm doing it for you: to protect you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;risks&lt;/span&gt;. that's what ani took when he married padmé. he knew the consequences yet he still continued it coz he is truly in love with her. [who wouldn't? natalie portman is really pretty. and oh, i'm not a lesbian.] he is willing to be with her inspite of him being a jedi and her being a senator.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(194, 194, 194);font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;anakin: &lt;span&gt;don't be afraid.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;padmé:&lt;span&gt; i'm not afraid to die. i've been dying a little bit each day since you came back into my life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anakin: &lt;span&gt;what are you talking about?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;padmé:&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I LOVE YOU.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anakin: &lt;span&gt;you love me? i thought we decided not to fall in love? that we'd be forced to live a lie and that it would destroy our lives?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;padmé: &lt;span&gt;i think our lives are about to destroyed anyway. i truly.. deeply.. love you and before we die, i want you to know.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;luke and anakin taught me the &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;5 greatest values:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;   &lt;li&gt;Love&lt;/li&gt;   &lt;li&gt;Respect&lt;/li&gt;   &lt;li&gt;Patience&lt;/li&gt;   &lt;li&gt;Honesty&lt;/li&gt;   &lt;li&gt;Trust&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt; &lt;/ul&gt; &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;these films also taught me that i can't have anything i want to have and i can't be anything i want to be. there is always a border line and i've learned not to cross it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anakin taught me &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;not to be lustful&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;anakin: &lt;span&gt;someday i will be the most powerful jedi&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; EVER.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;the love of a father&lt;/span&gt;- is what darth vader showed luke in episode 6. it was really heartwarming when he turned his back to the dark side just to help luke.&lt;br /&gt;the qui gon jinn was right. anakin was the chosen one to fulfill the prophecy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;anakin: &lt;span&gt;now go. my son, leave me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;luke: &lt;span&gt;no. you're coming with me. i will not leave you here. i will save you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anakin: &lt;span&gt;you already have, luke. you were right. you were right about me. tell your sister... you were right.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;luke: &lt;span&gt;father.. i won't leave you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;even if his dad was a psycho (and is half robot), he still loves him eventhough anakin didn't have the chance to be a father to him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;sacrifice.&lt;/span&gt; it's what i learned from hans solo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;han: you love him, don't you?&lt;br /&gt;leia: yes.&lt;br /&gt;han: all right. i understand. fine. when he comes back, i won't get in the way.&lt;br /&gt;leia: oh, han. it's not like that at all. he's my borther.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;han solo and luke shared a great bond together and starting from episode 4 to 6.  i love how han cared for luke and was walways there for him every battle and how luke saved han's life from the clutches of jabba the hut.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;all these i learned from watching star wars: the whole saga.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;/div&gt; &lt;/div&gt; &lt;b&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0000204/"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;/div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8709407208098549077-6951254418499644019?l=champerez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/feeds/6951254418499644019/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8709407208098549077&amp;postID=6951254418499644019&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/6951254418499644019'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/6951254418499644019'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/2008/05/yes.html' title='star wars: life lessons'/><author><name>CHAM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05245062024591759542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_64dF58M5P7E/R-oDqztmPTI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/SG_kwaN4C4k/S220/cham.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/SCHBVKkVJYI/AAAAAAAAADY/AiTFi7wmOpU/s72-c/starwars.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709407208098549077.post-8691207752219028880</id><published>2008-04-09T14:26:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T13:44:56.333+08:00</updated><title type='text'>TIME MACHINE: PAST</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/R_uO6ztmPqI/AAAAAAAAADI/m-1EfnRiN4k/s1600-h/Clock_by_Myrtillis.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/R_uO6ztmPqI/AAAAAAAAADI/m-1EfnRiN4k/s200/Clock_by_Myrtillis.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186896536812273314" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;let me take you back 4 years ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I met this guy at the mall with my friends. i had this superficial feelings for him. it was no big deal really. then, a friend of mine gave me his number. so, i sent him a text message. we're not really text mates at that time coz unlimited texting didn't exist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i kept seeing him at the mall with some of his friends. there was this one time he asked me to go out with him and his friends. with hesitation, i said "NO." i regretted by not saying yes. i should've come with him. :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;couple weeks have passed and i saw one of his friends. he was the boyfriend of my ka-barkada. we had a talk. i asked him about "tyler" and he told me the nasty things tyler said about me. which of course is not true coz he barely even knows me. it took me a very long time to figure out that he lied to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i never bothered to talk to him since then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;back in 9th grade, i got a hold of his number again. i tried texting him using my friend's name. very lame.. i know. let's just say i misled him. i lied to him, pretended to be something i'm not. out of guilt, i made up a story. told him that my friend got a new number and i'm now using her old number. he fell for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we got really close. he said, "YOU'RE THE ONLY GIRL I TELL EVERYTHING TO."&lt;br /&gt;we talked on the phone almost everyday, he tells me about his life, problems and whatever is inside his brain. he looked out for me. it was as if we were a couple. i thought we were going there but i was wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;he got himself a girlfriend but our closeness didn't end. it's as if he has no girlfriend at all. i even know him more than his girlfriend does. she doesn't even care for him. there was this one time he asked me to call him. it was like past twelve and i called him up right away. he was crying because of his girl and i was the one comforting him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;our communication didn't stop until june of 2006.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;he was gone since school started. then, my friend told me if i know anyone named "tyler." i said "yeah." then she told me how tyler talks about me with his friends. she also told me that she thinks he likes me or something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;he came back months later but only for three days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;college came and i'm having a blast. since i came from an all girls school, it was new to me having guy classmates. well, not really new since i hang out with my guy friends every dismissal time since i was in 10th grade. well, you get the point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;he came back into my life again. it was like the old days. he was single. i said to myslef, "this is it. he will fall for me AGAIN."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;wrong. so wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;he kept on mentioning this girl. since he mentioned her name, i did everything i need to know about her. this girl and i go to the same school together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TEXT:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CHAM: any plans for tomorrow?&lt;br /&gt;TYLER: yes, in fact i'm going to your school.&lt;br /&gt;CHAM: really? why is that?&lt;br /&gt;TYLER: it's the capping of MY DARLING.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i cried myself to sleep. I'M SO STUPID.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the next day i went to school, went to the guidance office since my friend is working there. i was like really really sad. for me, music is my therapy. whenever something bad happenes to me, i instantly bring out my ipod and listen to music. that's what i did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;one of the counsellors noticed my sad face. then i asked him, "sir peter, can i have a counselling with you?" then i poured my heart out. i was crying hard. really hard. since i usually joke alot, i told him, "look! you made me cry! each tear costs 1000 pesos! you owe me BIG!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;after all the drama, i went to class.&lt;br /&gt;we only had 1 class at that time since our teachers don't feel like teaching. (this happened on a tuesday. i think.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a week before,  one of my classmates told me he makes such incredible mixes. so, i scheduled a drinking session with him. he was the bartender of course.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;since we only had 1 subject (we knew about this a week ago), we went drinking with my "bartender" classmate. i called him to pick us up from our school. then we had our drinking session at my classmate's house. i was drunk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this was the day i drowned all my sorrows away and i decided to move on.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8709407208098549077-8691207752219028880?l=champerez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/feeds/8691207752219028880/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8709407208098549077&amp;postID=8691207752219028880&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/8691207752219028880'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/8691207752219028880'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/2008/04/time-machine-past.html' title='TIME MACHINE: PAST'/><author><name>CHAM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05245062024591759542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_64dF58M5P7E/R-oDqztmPTI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/SG_kwaN4C4k/S220/cham.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/R_uO6ztmPqI/AAAAAAAAADI/m-1EfnRiN4k/s72-c/Clock_by_Myrtillis.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709407208098549077.post-8675588157436881130</id><published>2008-03-28T10:23:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T13:44:57.315+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='supernatural'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='grey&apos;s anatomy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='prison break'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='gossip girl'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='one tree hill'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tv series'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='heroes'/><title type='text'>TV shows that you'll love</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;ONE TREE HILL&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/R-yNjTtmPiI/AAAAAAAAACI/KFN9narUvc4/s1600-h/One_Tree_Hill_by_Vesityy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/R-yNjTtmPiI/AAAAAAAAACI/KFN9narUvc4/s320/One_Tree_Hill_by_Vesityy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182672908923059746" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"there's only one tree hill." -karen &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;scott&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the first american tv series i got addicted to. XD&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this show is all about love, friendship and the each characters dreams. what i love about OTH is that their characters. each character portrays their role very well and i'm really overwhelmed by that. this shows shows it all. from teen marriage and pregnancy (haley &amp;amp; nathan), love triangle (brooke-lucas-peyton), school shootings, drug abuse (deb scott) and so on.&lt;br /&gt;they started to fulfill their dreams when they were still in highschool. and what amazes me is that the friendship and love they share for each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;                            &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;GREY'S ANAT&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;OMY&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/R-yN9ztmPjI/AAAAAAAAACQ/2XFBn0Pv7P8/s1600-h/Greys_Anatomy_by_Untitled_xo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/R-yN9ztmPjI/AAAAAAAAACQ/2XFBn0Pv7P8/s320/Greys_Anatomy_by_Untitled_xo.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182673364189593138" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"ser&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;io&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;usly?! SERIOUSL&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Y!"&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;-meredith grey&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;why is this show great?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's because of the cases they handle and the love that is slowy growing while the show is going on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the story revolves around meredith's time being an intern student and the people she meets.&lt;br /&gt;this show just wants to be like. it's so great that every episode they show has a lesson just waiting to be learned. the teacher-student relationship adds a great plot in the story. also, the love square between merideth-shepherd-addison-mark is simply just steaming hot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;SUPERNATURAL&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/R-yOTjtmPkI/AAAAAAAAACY/N6VgXyzsE64/s1600-h/181006121097l.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/R-yOTjtmPkI/AAAAAAAAACY/N6VgXyzsE64/s320/181006121097l.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182673737851747906" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"saving people, hunting things. the family b&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;usiness."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;-dean winchester&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this shows keeps my heart beat faster from one episode to another. it has alot of suspense than you could ever imagine and it shows different creatures that our mind could ever think of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this show tells us about two brothers who were raised by their dad to hunt things that go "bump in the night." after 22 years, the brothers set on a journey to find their recently lost father, fighting evil along the way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when sam and dean were just kids, their mom was killed in front of their dad by something supernatural and since then, their lives were never the same again. they are now in search of the thing that killed their mom. one thing is for sure: they're HOT!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;HEROES&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/R-yOkTtmPlI/AAAAAAAAACg/3-sdDW30Ox4/s1600-h/Heroes_fan_wallpaper_by_eway.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/R-yOkTtmPlI/AAAAAAAAACg/3-sdDW30Ox4/s320/Heroes_fan_wallpaper_by_eway.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182674025614556754" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"I walked through a fire &amp;amp; i didn't get burned."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;-claire bennet&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ordinary people discovering extraordinary abilities and these people are not safe coz someone is out to get them to take the the powers they have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;image yourself falling from a 6 foot tall building and you're still alive. no bruise, no scratches afterwards.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;or when you're chased by 2 men and then by a blink of an eye, you flew right off the ground.&lt;br /&gt;who doesn't want anything like that? i would die to re-generate and be immortal for the rest of my life. who wouldn't? i bet you would. would you? haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;GOSSIP GI&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;RL&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/R-yO6jtmPmI/AAAAAAAAACo/HyxVmM2EQQs/s1600-h/GG3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/R-yO6jtmPmI/AAAAAAAAACo/HyxVmM2EQQs/s320/GG3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182674407866646114" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"gossip girl here. your one and only source to t&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;he scandalous lives of manhattan's elite."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"who am I? that's one secret i'll never tell. you know you love me. xoxo, gossip girl."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;-gossip girl&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;welcome to new y&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;ork's upper east side! where the we&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;althy mingles from the benefits and tries to deal with their dramatic love lives. blair waldorf is the new queen bee after serena's mysterious disappearance. well of course, everyone thinks that blair's life is perfect not just because of her gorgeous, hot, handsome, adorable (stressing much? haha) boyfriend Nate Archibald but the family nam&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;e she's bringing -WALDORF. blair is envied by her friends (not only her friends but everyone) and fantasized by men. everything is going right in blair's life until serena came back from boarding school. she always thought that there is an unspoken love between serena and nate. when ev&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;erything starts to fall apart, everyone will know her life is far from perfect.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;PRISON BREAK&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/R-yPcztmPnI/AAAAAAAAACw/a518qMIb-Us/s1600-h/PB.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/R-yPcztmPnI/AAAAAAAAACw/a518qMIb-Us/s320/PB.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182674996277165682" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"If you think I'm gonna leave my&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; brother behind, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;you have massively underestimated me." -micheal sco&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;field&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;micheal, an engineer installs himself in prison he helped to design, in order to help his brother break out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;now, breaking out was easy but getting out of the country is harder than they think. good thing lincoln got a presidential pardon but there's more: micheal is in prison again to break out a man, sara is dead (thank god!), LJ is held hostage and everything is falling apart. let's just hope micheal would be fine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;one reason to watch this show is that: wentworth miller is to die for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8709407208098549077-8675588157436881130?l=champerez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/feeds/8675588157436881130/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8709407208098549077&amp;postID=8675588157436881130&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/8675588157436881130'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/8675588157436881130'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/2008/03/tv-shows-that-youll-love.html' title='TV shows that you&apos;ll love'/><author><name>CHAM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05245062024591759542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_64dF58M5P7E/R-oDqztmPTI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/SG_kwaN4C4k/S220/cham.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/R-yNjTtmPiI/AAAAAAAAACI/KFN9narUvc4/s72-c/One_Tree_Hill_by_Vesityy.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709407208098549077.post-597021921557232710</id><published>2008-03-27T14:53:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T13:44:57.450+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='problems'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='storms'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>Facing the Storm</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/R-tFoztmPWI/AAAAAAAAAAo/WdBbncsuKsA/s1600-h/storm.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/R-tFoztmPWI/AAAAAAAAAAo/WdBbncsuKsA/s320/storm.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182312363598429538" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;my life isn't that perfect. eventhough i want it to be, it just can't be done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i've been dealing with different kinds of problems in my life and i always thought that i can't handle these things but i always proved myself wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i have a way with words. talking gets me in and out of troubles. i guess that's one out of the many reasons why i'm always having problems. XD maybe i should really talk less.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;facing my stroms in life isn't all that bad. i get to learn new things and i can put them into action. that's what they call learning from expereince.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;eventhough i have faced different kinds of storms, i still have those breakdwon moments. i also get nervous inspite of all the bad (and good) experinces i had. don't know why but i'm still not immune by this feeling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i always know how it feels to get in trouble. it happened to me lots of times already. since second year highschool, i was known to be a rule breaker. everytime my teacher tells me not to do it, i take it as a challenge then the next thing i know, i'm doing it. i should really learn how to listen coz up until now, i'm still doing it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;facing those storms might be bad but all is not lost. a little bit of courage and strength is needed to finally keep on heading on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8709407208098549077-597021921557232710?l=champerez.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/feeds/597021921557232710/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8709407208098549077&amp;postID=597021921557232710&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/597021921557232710'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8709407208098549077/posts/default/597021921557232710'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://champerez.blogspot.com/2008/03/facing-storm.html' title='Facing the Storm'/><author><name>CHAM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05245062024591759542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_64dF58M5P7E/R-oDqztmPTI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/SG_kwaN4C4k/S220/cham.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_64dF58M5P7E/R-tFoztmPWI/AAAAAAAAAAo/WdBbncsuKsA/s72-c/storm.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
