tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-60374415084730526102024-03-27T13:11:58.072-04:00MysLykeMeehA dot without period. MysLykeMeehhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11875949739930737616noreply@blogger.comBlogger25125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6037441508473052610.post-64072694888671272232011-07-04T14:55:00.000-04:002011-12-19T15:01:28.690-05:00CN Tower<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU23JdKnccxWcSJEDzu3QXLSJW0cnQ6N74GC_XlE3gyp4nm7q1s_-kjCYe1HhzHuzg5DAxVmLBcpyeKJ3p6PLRT3i7g2p4Zjpb4InF7f7mQkSmNJm6mxma_9454viQwq253QYJN1wbXznT/s1600/IMG_6467.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU23JdKnccxWcSJEDzu3QXLSJW0cnQ6N74GC_XlE3gyp4nm7q1s_-kjCYe1HhzHuzg5DAxVmLBcpyeKJ3p6PLRT3i7g2p4Zjpb4InF7f7mQkSmNJm6mxma_9454viQwq253QYJN1wbXznT/s640/IMG_6467.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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I just want to captured it on a clear, sky blue background. </div>
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<br /></div>MysLykeMeehhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11875949739930737616noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6037441508473052610.post-36097201155942310002011-06-28T22:20:00.000-04:002013-11-04T22:49:02.077-05:00Gotta Love This Mug<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCRk4uc1jkeYtKF319O0AgFbqK_Bdz8DJOFWYntTy5rXrT4XE7LRud2Pm8_D_xmnZWro61XFLvhWplWOauRJq77e3bFeuLaDGuUDGEzPlkNQ1NnaMDkt2lwhaWER-RtZHJn6yNl-Qpytac/s1600/IMG_6404.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCRk4uc1jkeYtKF319O0AgFbqK_Bdz8DJOFWYntTy5rXrT4XE7LRud2Pm8_D_xmnZWro61XFLvhWplWOauRJq77e3bFeuLaDGuUDGEzPlkNQ1NnaMDkt2lwhaWER-RtZHJn6yNl-Qpytac/s640/IMG_6404.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDtAAyQxNM0lHcQDU8T7R0gpsedcvUC8ilyIxmNwL7WA2wihOY5MX_dRvZi3ZoiPKaLbeqq_VlBr5PN5jM1EjhA17Ui00B5lyzITt71JnMcdvTBa-TKOr0Pl2DJaTozQDCVhucOwyvRgeA/s1600/IMG_6411-1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="392" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDtAAyQxNM0lHcQDU8T7R0gpsedcvUC8ilyIxmNwL7WA2wihOY5MX_dRvZi3ZoiPKaLbeqq_VlBr5PN5jM1EjhA17Ui00B5lyzITt71JnMcdvTBa-TKOr0Pl2DJaTozQDCVhucOwyvRgeA/s640/IMG_6411-1.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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Love it. Love it. Love it.<br />
My drink gets tastier everyday.MysLykeMeehhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11875949739930737616noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6037441508473052610.post-17500938667313728972011-06-17T10:45:00.001-04:002011-06-17T11:51:40.394-04:00To Write or Not to Write- That is the Question<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px;"><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px;">To write or not to write, this is my endless question everyday as I travel with my life along with my thoughts. Blogging is a better way to unleash what's inside my mind. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px;">I don't know if I can call myself a writer. I read books and my mind is spinning what I need to write, but my hands and body wouldn't go along with my mind. I really wanted to make my tardiness bleeds. I don't want to be lazy anymore. It makes me struggle to the point of blaming myself. Thus, insecurities takes place. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px;"><br />
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</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px;"><img _mce_src="http://homepageone.s3.amazonaws.com/cms%2F20090326191837-story-writeLTE.jpg" alt="" class="alignleft" height="225" src="http://homepageone.s3.amazonaws.com/cms%2F20090326191837-story-writeLTE.jpg" style="-webkit-box-shadow: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.0976563) 1px 1px 5px; background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; border-bottom-color: rgb(238, 238, 238); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-left-color: rgb(238, 238, 238); border-left-style: solid; border-left-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(238, 238, 238); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; border-top-color: rgb(238, 238, 238); border-top-style: solid; border-top-width: 1px; box-shadow: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.0976563) 1px 1px 5px; padding-bottom: 5px; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 5px; padding-top: 5px;" width="400" /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px;"><br />
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</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px;">Procrastination is one thing. That is the hardest to avoid. I keep on telling myself that I would write later and it turned out to write none at all. There were many yesterdays wasted. The now attitude is a positive antidote to fight against my laziness . I have to make it as a goal. I confessed many times to the sky or to anything that writing is my passion but, once I am overloaded with reasons and excuses, I stop exploring what is beyond. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px;"><br />
</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px;">On the other hand, I would not only focus on nailing my laziness. I would also try to test my ability and my skills in writing. Exploring the unknown to scrutinize my thought critically - hoping that it would help me in discovering the different style in writing.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px;"><br />
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</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px;">The world of a writer is unknown. The vast knowledge required to become a better writer is limitless. I'd decide to walk and travel onto this path. It may not be the right path to choose. However, considering the joy and the mystery in the writer's world is a greater reward any writer would achieve.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px;">Well...here I come...</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #111111; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 20px;"><i>You can’t wait for inspiration. You have to go after it with a club. "Jack London"</i></span><br />
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</i></span>MysLykeMeehhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11875949739930737616noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6037441508473052610.post-31599264119891952112011-05-11T15:29:00.001-04:002018-05-15T06:09:30.417-04:00Cherry Blossoms at High Park 2011May is here and it is a month when Cherry Blossoms started to show its beauty. It is known as Japanese Cherry <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;"><b>Hill Cherry</b></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;">, </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;"><b>Oriental Cherry</b></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;"> or </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;"><b>East Asian Cherry. It is sometimes called "Sakura".</b></span><br />
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Every year, many photo-journalist in Toronto would venture out and roam around in High Park at this time of year to witness the blossoming wonders of the Cherry Blossoms. Yesterday, I went there equipped with my blissful camera. The weather was not that charming, but it doesn't mean that I could not take few pictures of the Cherry Blossoms. There were many people when I came, they were also taking photos and others were just sight seeing.<br />
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Here are my few takes without photoshop. Heaven knows how I don't like photoshop, but sometimes as the person explored the world of photography, photoshop is expected. However, the pictures below aren't photoshop because I wanted to post it originally as it taken. As I said earlier, weather was not that cooperative, it must have been great if the sun were shining and the sky was blue.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4_rMKEzcl0BMfkEghyphenhyphenhghQ9h35ojqJZbq660YQ_swrQEzO12puW9mm7453EnIYtCgYHWt2B36NTViQxVMATC0tfCVV61hR34B-Z6g7yW9gDpISdgLVDSfCGgChvWzUKrfA35Ugv0-_VI8/s1600/IMG_1421.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4_rMKEzcl0BMfkEghyphenhyphenhghQ9h35ojqJZbq660YQ_swrQEzO12puW9mm7453EnIYtCgYHWt2B36NTViQxVMATC0tfCVV61hR34B-Z6g7yW9gDpISdgLVDSfCGgChvWzUKrfA35Ugv0-_VI8/s1600/IMG_1421.jpg" /></a></div>
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<b><i>It was perfect timing when I took a shot of the bird above the Cherry Blossoms. </i></b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE7xetb4ZtPHOuizDr2pX-jvrGGoZs8Z82yEggTA2Rx0S0n5LzaSomtd1q-rOVY7HYYf9tF0IpRwqTiTqclU_iLsBv_FkzDcEn3oyB7mcmeTdJU-emMlovIjrU_QSeURISWKW2zaSpI1uf/s1600/IMG_1423.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE7xetb4ZtPHOuizDr2pX-jvrGGoZs8Z82yEggTA2Rx0S0n5LzaSomtd1q-rOVY7HYYf9tF0IpRwqTiTqclU_iLsBv_FkzDcEn3oyB7mcmeTdJU-emMlovIjrU_QSeURISWKW2zaSpI1uf/s1600/IMG_1423.jpg" /></a></div>
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<b><i>The sky was smoky grey. </i></b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5CFxE9gkmQakUIqu2ULSlIqYU2nyKDbNrvZsY5APUS6d9Nwr5eQcQBxGaXQCyUJ9tFx8Upzo9cviRU7F_EVokIjnRGaW0WekZ3NEHDDEhg5y_6X9_3y_wep9Tbbd9dSaj3P7sSLnkFNxc/s1600/IMG_1432.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5CFxE9gkmQakUIqu2ULSlIqYU2nyKDbNrvZsY5APUS6d9Nwr5eQcQBxGaXQCyUJ9tFx8Upzo9cviRU7F_EVokIjnRGaW0WekZ3NEHDDEhg5y_6X9_3y_wep9Tbbd9dSaj3P7sSLnkFNxc/s1600/IMG_1432.jpg" /></a></div>
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<b><i>I thought at first it's totally pink, but it is slightly pinkish. </i></b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1EJXtjmKzeilJqfGrBAQzl0SYbxflCtxy-tUIXEZf4rrve7QMhvxYHXHZIUT_pbz9oVr05Y5uykd2arAZgIO-nDD1jFvsGMP-X18RRyBb9KwXkpfjoEiJV_7E5BgMdHfkgdR6jHI3LD5B/s1600/IMG_1434.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1EJXtjmKzeilJqfGrBAQzl0SYbxflCtxy-tUIXEZf4rrve7QMhvxYHXHZIUT_pbz9oVr05Y5uykd2arAZgIO-nDD1jFvsGMP-X18RRyBb9KwXkpfjoEiJV_7E5BgMdHfkgdR6jHI3LD5B/s1600/IMG_1434.jpg" /></a></div>
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<b><i>yet...it's absolutely white. </i></b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4JTBBytUxvBV1Tpg55pl5qg49SZi3hrYY6HDEOe9bHt1dwZOfqrLUmNVyuTlnFLEPn_ZbcuisrAUlxN079wp62arjlVaEbQ5tcE0zEvU9Z9eFf08c62TH9gYyJ61WL3-wtknAGq7RyIsw/s1600/IMG_1445.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4JTBBytUxvBV1Tpg55pl5qg49SZi3hrYY6HDEOe9bHt1dwZOfqrLUmNVyuTlnFLEPn_ZbcuisrAUlxN079wp62arjlVaEbQ5tcE0zEvU9Z9eFf08c62TH9gYyJ61WL3-wtknAGq7RyIsw/s1600/IMG_1445.jpg" /></a></div>
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<b><i>Lovers were also enjoying the view and forgive me if I sneaked. (just hoping that they would not stumble upon my blog :-) </i></b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhutCkdx3_eSD3x7s1FHdj2ZeII-emZMV7bO6p9Tx2EfV0m-jsYqkY06Q2AI5O2VsUZiuObayi28OicrHXlSXIk9S8GSIaOhWckMPvrHe_JfyMSlVxTE0kp1lwoKuWdS6xMPQAIE9ywxgf/s1600/IMG_1496.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhutCkdx3_eSD3x7s1FHdj2ZeII-emZMV7bO6p9Tx2EfV0m-jsYqkY06Q2AI5O2VsUZiuObayi28OicrHXlSXIk9S8GSIaOhWckMPvrHe_JfyMSlVxTE0kp1lwoKuWdS6xMPQAIE9ywxgf/s1600/IMG_1496.jpg" /></a></div>
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<b><i>though the weather was not that great, the amazing Cherry Blossoms gave the whole park a glow. </i></b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1kT4rXMFJ2rd6cP2S46-igwXT1PP_PEZXp_L0SNCJD0KhZQp4t_WilARHi3qsbGrMBVNQWJsVfJZGrROajlkqSScvR8_RGSaGY2IZ6JlgkbCxAXAa4EmQv3eDPOVpDqgcdtKtDGs1iYKn/s1600/IMG_1524.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1kT4rXMFJ2rd6cP2S46-igwXT1PP_PEZXp_L0SNCJD0KhZQp4t_WilARHi3qsbGrMBVNQWJsVfJZGrROajlkqSScvR8_RGSaGY2IZ6JlgkbCxAXAa4EmQv3eDPOVpDqgcdtKtDGs1iYKn/s1600/IMG_1524.jpg" /></a></div>
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<b><i>i definitely stole a shot when this girl pose for a picture. </i></b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbOw0LoDW-tOqxOZK-cc1prxAyPn33F-V-apH8nTDGGwCDv37NxHqolPi85d7GrwpbQVKg6kUVF8D-fjYoW7I_alxafOsPGccwj34_Q2Lb2wJ1JX46dWD5NAOzqAHT7ZIO0D21hwzT9oVJ/s1600/IMG_1548.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbOw0LoDW-tOqxOZK-cc1prxAyPn33F-V-apH8nTDGGwCDv37NxHqolPi85d7GrwpbQVKg6kUVF8D-fjYoW7I_alxafOsPGccwj34_Q2Lb2wJ1JX46dWD5NAOzqAHT7ZIO0D21hwzT9oVJ/s1600/IMG_1548.jpg" /></a></div>
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<b><i>it was an amazing experience how this beautiful cherry blossoms smiled at my camera. </i></b></div>
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<b><i>totally loved its color..</i></b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggs-1Wqtaam_AU6V3cK-pfyhzsCaceTkcCRr9vxxBl9TPxiWRUFOZWGluWl79_v0HmwZGdpiOKpGIc5GVA3xuajLIkYwVHsOxrHeqF1r7hYQmdLkD_hzaD4ojsvraBNdqfuYt_Vc_l3vrG/s1600/IMG_1576.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggs-1Wqtaam_AU6V3cK-pfyhzsCaceTkcCRr9vxxBl9TPxiWRUFOZWGluWl79_v0HmwZGdpiOKpGIc5GVA3xuajLIkYwVHsOxrHeqF1r7hYQmdLkD_hzaD4ojsvraBNdqfuYt_Vc_l3vrG/s1600/IMG_1576.jpg" /></a></div>
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<b><i>i was really looking for a good focus when I stumbled on this one. </i></b></div>
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I will definitely come back when some of the petals would turn to slightly pink or into more pinkish before it's gone. I hope the weather would also open up and shared its brightness for my next visit. </div>
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MysLykeMeehhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11875949739930737616noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6037441508473052610.post-36154338352367557672010-07-26T01:31:00.000-04:002010-07-26T01:31:53.841-04:00Word StuckIt seems like centuries that I haven't write anything in particular. I miss writing poetry and weird stuff. My tiny brain couldn't grasp any words that need to be understood. I have a bad feeling that my writing skill is limited compared to those who write regularly. I don't know if I can convince someone about my ability, if I still have it. Pray that my brain would function, not technically but at least, normally.<br />
<br />
I would not recommend procrastination as an option to stop writing. Though, it's not my reason why I shut off my blog temporarily. . Actually, the major reason why I stop writing for some time was that "I was lazy, too lazy as a matter of fact. Very lazy to start anything and so lazy to think about someting. If laziness will strike at the door in your thought process, it becomes an enduring battle and struggle. Why Shakespear didn't spare any of his audience admiration? He has a lot of stamina, determination, confidence and of course inborn poetical adepthness. <br />
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I don't dream to be Shakespeare like or be someone like him. It's far from my dream of becoming someone who knows through the words. Shakespeare's talent was beyond words. Until now, it's still alive. His works were his masterpiece.<br />
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Oftentimes, I am words stuck, taking a pause on what's next. Other people called it mental block but I preferred "word stuck". <br />
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Well, too many words said but I just wanted to say that I want to re-open my blog.MysLykeMeehhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11875949739930737616noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6037441508473052610.post-11890771614817980612010-02-13T11:28:00.004-05:002010-04-06T19:09:08.888-04:00The Star in Me<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbILI0EFIgawr-eFw9U_bURdMZ4NV0vrZlaavAf-43Tgk_GzVo1MOpttg_PiyF5WF03fa23Sf0tcDQ7JatYVKroXeuBkKuxged73jdBesoBHczOudKDWeH9YYyXEX5UcImC6wyupBdPO4d/s1600-h/DSC03242.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbILI0EFIgawr-eFw9U_bURdMZ4NV0vrZlaavAf-43Tgk_GzVo1MOpttg_PiyF5WF03fa23Sf0tcDQ7JatYVKroXeuBkKuxged73jdBesoBHczOudKDWeH9YYyXEX5UcImC6wyupBdPO4d/s400/DSC03242.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i>"Let the world wonder how awesome it is to be a flower captured by the beauty of your smiling petals"</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2JtUfxcD4bG8I2uytg2_8cX1U5OCdFXNWYo9YTRvQe1DxGjcwXhpStWTqU41Hy0uMqUZd9CtQwUsjN1QyxRnX_ZE840gXVotkM97XqEkYTMHz726d8MRPu2_coPfQ1HSzAc-_fQklQ4J2/s1600-h/DSC03246.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2JtUfxcD4bG8I2uytg2_8cX1U5OCdFXNWYo9YTRvQe1DxGjcwXhpStWTqU41Hy0uMqUZd9CtQwUsjN1QyxRnX_ZE840gXVotkM97XqEkYTMHz726d8MRPu2_coPfQ1HSzAc-_fQklQ4J2/s400/DSC03246.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br />
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</div>MysLykeMeehhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11875949739930737616noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6037441508473052610.post-4525342906093730822009-10-26T22:45:00.005-04:002011-04-29T15:06:32.744-04:00Bad StoryGirl meets boy. The girl and the boy went on dates. From first, second and so on, then steady dating. The girl fall in love with his green eyes and everything. Vice versa. The boy did not know any reason why he loved the girl. He said, it just came. No butterflies but there was a feeling of love inside. Few months after, the boy went to the jewelry store and bought a ring, 24 carats diamond. He knelled down in front of the girl surrounded by many friends and he asked her to marry him. The girl said, "yes..." with her widest smile that reached the road to Monte Carlo. She was stunned, surprised and marked her calendar as the happiest moment in her life. She was very happy everyday, wearing her content smiles. She planned for her wedding. She contacted the best wedding coordinator in town. Expensive, you say? Yes, posh. She chose her perfect wedding gown. White shoes. And, everything. The boy did handle the budget. If the girl asked for anything, he was responsible enough to gave without a question. The day of the wedding came. She wore her so called perfect white-laced wedding dress with her beautiful smile in front of her groom. The groom himself was quite handsome like a lad from a Royal blood. In front of the pastor and many other witnesses, they shared the litany of the marriage ceremony or the wedding vows...<i> </i><br />
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<i>"Entreat me not to leave you, or to return from following after you, For where you go I will go, and where you stay I will stay. Your people will be my people, and your God will be my God. And where you die, I will die and there I will be buried. May the Lord do with me and more if anything but death parts you from me"</i><br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.speedace.info/tent_marquee_hire/arabian_tents_images/wedding_vows.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="188" src="http://www.speedace.info/tent_marquee_hire/arabian_tents_images/wedding_vows.jpg" width="320" /></a>Ceremony ended. Foods and beverages were tasteful. <i>And, everyone was very happy for the couple. </i>The wedding had ended. So, the real life began. Few months after, the girl was contented and so happy with her husband until she stumbled upon her high-school sweetheart way back then. The girl's feeling towards her husband was clouded with the thoughts, "Did I marry my soul mate?" or she meant to be for someone from her past? Confusion and doubts colored her heart. Her high-school sweetheart pursued her to leave her husband and lived with him. Her husband was angry at first to know her plan. He was betrayed and dishonored but forgave her because of the reason that he loved her so much. Her husband fought and begged her to saved their marriage. But, the girl was too vulnerable for the other. So, she left him and lived with her high-school sweetheart. The husband's heart was crying for pain and hurt. The wreckage of pain was undeniably painful. He thought somebody brought a ship of large needles to pricked his heart. However, he recovered and went for another turn. Several months after, he went out again. He found someone, somebody with an awesome heart who help him healed the pain. The new girl's way of loving was explicit but sweet. Thoughtful and made him feel that love is lovelier the second person around. He was back to life again. Four months after, he received a call from his former wife. She confessed and asked for forgiveness. While crying on phone, she asked him if they could met somewhere. They met. She told him that she was wrong of leaving him and her high-school sweetheart was not really meant for her. If he could give her another chance to start again. He just looked at her and said, "I found someone else, already".<br />
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The girl wept. He told her about the divorce paper. The girl ran away and hid to a lonely place.MysLykeMeehhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11875949739930737616noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6037441508473052610.post-26424436732047385272009-10-17T17:49:00.008-04:002013-11-04T22:53:09.305-05:00The Brushing and Flossing Regimen<a href="http://www.breathsofresh.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/07/brush-teeth.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://www.breathsofresh.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/07/brush-teeth.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; float: right; height: 275px; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; width: 275px;" /></a><br />
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Why on earth it's very important? And, why the dentist always remind their patient to do it regularly? Check-up, cleaning, brushing, flossing and etc. Heck, one of the countless reason why you need to listen to your dentist is that...going to a dentist once you know that your teeth need a whole repair would cost you to swipe your credit card or might make your paycheck disappeared in just one go. Yeah, people- it's bloody expensive. Especially in Canada, dentists will gain a lot of income by just for one patient. Imagine if you have a hole that needs to fill, it cost you a hundred plus bucks or more. Depends on the area and the result of the x-ray.<br />
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<span style="font-style: italic;"> "Recently, I went to a dentist to have my whole teeth examined and oh-my-holy-teeth, the cost made my teeth broken into pieces. Okay, no kidding but what I mean was, it made my wallet lost its value. The fault was mine though, I never thought that flossing is very important</span>."<br />
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<span style="font-weight: bold;"> How to maintain healthy teeth and gums: </span><br />
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<ul>
<li>Brush your teeth. Everyday. Three times a day to eliminate the tiny food in between your teeth. If you have the guts to tell it to the young kids, then you also have the power to do it. There's no harm in it. In fact, it is very beneficial. Don't be lazy. Teeth is very much important in order to maintain a very healthy lifestyle.</li>
</ul>
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<ul>
<li>Floss. Floss after you brush. There are residue in between your teeth that cannot be remove by just brushing. It needs a floss to get those. Once it stays there for such a long time, it is the cause of the weakening of the walls of your teeth. And, it develops into cavity which cause toothache and other problems.<br />
</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li>Use Mouthwash. Don't use mouthwash only when you go out for a date. Use it regularly after brushing and flossing. It helps to eliminate tartar, plaque and other problems. It also freshen your breath. </li>
</ul>
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Guess what? It seems that one should suffer first from any tooth problems before one realized the importance of it.MysLykeMeehhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11875949739930737616noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6037441508473052610.post-68359582703854773562009-06-03T07:27:00.007-04:002011-04-29T15:12:44.012-04:00A Woman of Purpose<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9T8CDX7M1hIw42iQ8B-HkGlpdwsyRYT_MVMry2PYbCWVkyWCD89l2hspaPIReepyPx8U7UHqHkksougWDLP13IfETCTW1UU_Ixu8sLwZeC4rW6DTvxg9KVoewDRTClSh5rM9y6x2I9PlK/s1600-h/purpose.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343076144766801522" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9T8CDX7M1hIw42iQ8B-HkGlpdwsyRYT_MVMry2PYbCWVkyWCD89l2hspaPIReepyPx8U7UHqHkksougWDLP13IfETCTW1UU_Ixu8sLwZeC4rW6DTvxg9KVoewDRTClSh5rM9y6x2I9PlK/s400/purpose.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; float: right; height: 400px; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; width: 348px;" /></a><br />
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A woman without a purpose is like a tempestuous wind-- sometimes passionate, oftentimes uncontrolled, without knowing the limit. There are times that she becomes wild, which leads her to become impulsive, violent, and hysterical about the decisions in life. But, a woman of purpose is someone who can calm a tempestuous wind. She knows when to become passionate and when to draw her lines. She knows how to balance her decision without hurting the other. What drives her life? Hope, faith and love.<br />
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A woman of purpose lives:<br />
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<ul><li><span style="font-style: italic;">She lives not in the past. <a href="http://images.google.ca/imgres?imgurl=http://randomwisdomblog.files.wordpress.com/2009/02/purpose.jpg&imgrefurl=http://randomwisdomblog.wordpress.com/&usg=__OKX8iMho1AbGafYF_vL9nCVPPxo=&h=414&w=360&sz=18&hl=en&start=2&sig2=rhdAh9NHMdF43HJZwwjfDg&tbnid=VVFGv-ldHU_m_M:&tbnh=125&tbnw=109&prev=/images%3Fq%3Dpurpose%26gbv%3D2%26hl%3Den%26sa%3DG&ei=GWsmSpPIOqXyMrDFkZQF"></a><br />
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<li>S<span style="font-style: italic;">he understand guilt but she's not living by guilt. </span></li>
<li><span style="font-style: italic;">She can feel the anger but not living through it.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-style: italic;">Fear is natural for her but it's not her reason to stop.<br />
</span></li>
<li><span style="font-style: italic;">She aims life through God's wisdom than the world can offer.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-style: italic;">She doesn't need people's approval or what people may say.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-style: italic;">She follows good lead and she know her way through it.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-style: italic;">She stands on righteousness for everyone's sake.<br />
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<li><span style="font-style: italic;">She walks with purpose.</span></li>
</ul><br />
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"Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised"<br />
<div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-size: 78%;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Proverbs 31:30</span></span></div><br />
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<span style="font-style: italic;"><a href="http://images.google.ca/imgres?imgurl=http://randomwisdomblog.files.wordpress.com/2009/02/purpose.jpg&imgrefurl=http://randomwisdomblog.wordpress.com/&usg=__OKX8iMho1AbGafYF_vL9nCVPPxo=&h=414&w=360&sz=18&hl=en&start=2&sig2=rhdAh9NHMdF43HJZwwjfDg&tbnid=VVFGv-ldHU_m_M:&tbnh=125&tbnw=109&prev=/images%3Fq%3Dpurpose%26gbv%3D2%26hl%3Den%26sa%3DG&ei=GWsmSpPIOqXyMrDFkZQF">Photo Credit</a></span>MysLykeMeehhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11875949739930737616noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6037441508473052610.post-10993464189491062262009-02-26T08:44:00.006-05:002013-11-04T22:52:43.491-05:00Hey...Testing....<br />
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1...<br />
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2....<br />
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3....<br />
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Oopps...<br />
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I some kinda of here : <b><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></b><br />
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<b><span style="font-size: large;"> Ciao! <br />
</span></b>MysLykeMeehhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11875949739930737616noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6037441508473052610.post-944127924707925922009-02-20T18:12:00.008-05:002009-02-20T19:50:07.271-05:00The Child and the Swing<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8PIZ788X2iKgc_L-dHPH7qa25z12ADv4v1q8xBmI98Gb74oyEgFi9nmOL5nhm9Rvwd9JM1N5xi0CmRkAf7yHoPMTxVdrB9RJHrXgh02g5rzu3IaGtTq47sh53vbO8VFQVFKSmTB3AF4ML/s1600-h/homeimg_swing.gif" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305041287752067634" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8PIZ788X2iKgc_L-dHPH7qa25z12ADv4v1q8xBmI98Gb74oyEgFi9nmOL5nhm9Rvwd9JM1N5xi0CmRkAf7yHoPMTxVdrB9RJHrXgh02g5rzu3IaGtTq47sh53vbO8VFQVFKSmTB3AF4ML/s400/homeimg_swing.gif" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 196px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 170px;" /></a><br />
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Yesterday, while watching a little girl in a pink bonnet and pink mittens, her soft- creamy scarf knotted neatly on her neck, with her hands gripping the chain attach to the swing, swung freely and cheerfully--- I saw her smiles, her small-uneven teeth and her unexplained happiness- how pure were her smiles, her deepest blue eyes admiring every pushed her mother made. Pure laughter. Little giggles. Pure child. Pure heart.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4Md8PGFtrH4sAMPYy8FJlz5OiinCEMq-xQomEsWEnioHZNy4qh1GDxs5QoIAKt1S1tbLpNM00C91Za5X7a2QAsfz2r8dTS6daQr9GwuqF-qMviASERDoYu5oIJ0d8-Bm4VkApNCP2sfS5/s1600-h/ist2_5538388-tire-swing.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305042952061610386" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4Md8PGFtrH4sAMPYy8FJlz5OiinCEMq-xQomEsWEnioHZNy4qh1GDxs5QoIAKt1S1tbLpNM00C91Za5X7a2QAsfz2r8dTS6daQr9GwuqF-qMviASERDoYu5oIJ0d8-Bm4VkApNCP2sfS5/s400/ist2_5538388-tire-swing.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 380px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 148px;" /></a><br />
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Admiring the view and listening to her sweet laughter, my eyes were glued not on the child alone. My mind wanders through the swing, it was coming back and forth. Back and forth. The squeaking of metal, the rattling of the chains. The sounds. The snowflakes. And, the winds. Did she mind at all? She didn’t noticed. Careless. Carefree. And, happy.<br />
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How I thought? How I wonder? Like the child and the swing, it described its meaning. Like me and the time. I was swinging through time, catching all the events of my life, watching the snow coming and going, wishing it to go away- never even appreciate its glory. How ungrateful I become? Catching the bus, chasing the train, running back and forth in the subway. Did I even appreciate the day? How I dream that like a child I can laugh purely as the winter pours? Like a child I can giggle the day as the time goes, like a child I let the time comes and enjoy it as far as it goes.<br />
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Yes, you can never buy the time. You can’t retrieved it, either. But, would I barter my happiness because I’m catching and moving to and fro with time?<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_PqF4x97e-sO2m4xqGWHiw2f_sAXNQQRSK2xs7XJC45hFBFwkk9i02IK7egnMK4rze9VRbwQa7_h-58oPtnFa-NwyhDhSAjB_Ye6_RGLGrN0csgwUWJ4mR4jA9OEzPGuVwQcrNPY2spNx/s1600-h/58823,1220042220,2.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305042510004378706" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_PqF4x97e-sO2m4xqGWHiw2f_sAXNQQRSK2xs7XJC45hFBFwkk9i02IK7egnMK4rze9VRbwQa7_h-58oPtnFa-NwyhDhSAjB_Ye6_RGLGrN0csgwUWJ4mR4jA9OEzPGuVwQcrNPY2spNx/s400/58823,1220042220,2.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 100px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 76px;" /></a><br />
Like a child, how I dream to enjoy every ride….of my life!<br />
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Photo Credit: <a href="http://images.google.ca/imgres?imgurl=http://69.90.174.253/photos/thumb_small/58823/58823,1220042220,2.jpg&imgrefurl=http://www.shutterstock.com/pic-16517755.html&usg=__cBiOR1x8ld90NQ2taBtIJVj6CK8=&h=100&w=76&sz=2&hl=en&start=222&um=1&tbnid=6fqFaCPag5bN3M:&tbnh=82&tbnw=62&prev=/images%3Fq%3Dswing%2Bwhite%2Bbackground%26start%3D216%26ndsp%3D18%26um%3D1%26hl%3Den%26sa%3DN">Shutterstock,</a> <a href="http://www.inspirationpeak.com/cgi-bin/e-card.cgi?ID=96&view=">K. Griffin </a>and <a href="http://images.google.ca/imgres?imgurl=http://www.istockphoto.com/file_thumbview_approve/5538388/2/istockphoto_5538388-tire-swing.jpg&imgrefurl=http://www.istockphoto.com/file_closeup/object/5538388-tire-swing.php%3Fid%3D5538388&usg=__PyQ9c27s4VsiYdz5e1MQAQMGFEs=&h=380&w=148&sz=11&hl=en&start=108&um=1&tbnid=ImJ7fTGZU0U60M:&tbnh=123&tbnw=48&prev=/images%3Fq%3Dswing%2Bwhite%2Bbackground%26start%3D90%26ndsp%3D18%26um%3D1%26hl%3Den%26sa%3DN">Skip O Donnel</a>MysLykeMeehhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11875949739930737616noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6037441508473052610.post-30172974820383892282009-02-17T23:20:00.005-05:002011-12-19T13:39:45.952-05:00Mishy-Mashy-Mash Images<div>
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</div>MysLykeMeehhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11875949739930737616noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6037441508473052610.post-48060812440115495922009-02-11T07:57:00.034-05:002018-05-15T09:51:04.563-04:00Romance vs. Reality<div>
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The first time I set my eyes upon him, I thought it was <i>"Love at first sight". Geezz, geezz...</i> that was I thought. Ahh, well? Who would not? Hot, gorgeous, Oh crap- tantalizing eyes that took my breath away. And, lips that could launch thousand lips (tsek!tsek!) Butterflies in my stomach (flipping inside and out), Heart beats like a tambourine (tsug! tsug!) and I can't take my eyes off him (whatta me?) Huh? </div>
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The worse thing about Italians, they know that they are at the top attractive people on earth, according to the study of "Whose the most good looking, gorgeous hot specimen on earth". In the book <i>"Eat, Pray and Love"</i> by Elizabeth Gilbert, she described Italian as <i>"Devishly attractive, Cruelly handsome and surprisingly muscular" (wow) </i>And yes, I truly admit whole heartedly that I was once a victim of such cruelly handsome Italian guy (too cool to be real, as a matter of fact). But yeah, I was and yes too bad!</div>
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You know when you like someone, it seems like everything smells better, the sour foods taste even better, the darkness seems even brighter? (ha!- true!) However, too good to be true and too bad to be real. When bad things happen to a girl whose foolishly, madly, insanely tought she was in love? Very unhealthy. Foolish may be... but (oh dude, a freakin' great feeling)...</div>
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And, forgetting your own standards could be a bad sign that you become 'Fool in Love'. Was it love? <i>(Who would think about what is and how is when your mind kept on playing his looks, his smile, his lip, his voice, his eyes? Ahh, not me--and yes, I'm a liar) </i></div>
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Was I too foolish to believed that he likes me like the way I liked him? Hmn, <i>"I like what I see", that was his lines and yeah, it was flattering (*grinned*) </i>Ooppss...if you think that two people like each other would it be <i>'they live happily ever after'? ( A big question mark about that happy ending?) When boy meets girl, there's a chance that boy meets another girl or girl meets another boy) Uhu? Yeah! 50-50! Chances are real and reality keeps on knocking on the tablet of your soul. </i>Okay (meeh) Keep dreamin!</div>
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Aha! Bulls eye? (ahm- excuse my language). When you realized about everything that it happens too quick, you thought it was real-- the feeling, the attraction and oh damn the smell...! ---Uhu? Was I stupid enough to believed and listen to my own ridiculous feelings? Yeah, almost! But,-- when a person admits or true to himself about telling you straight ..., like <i>"you only fit on my bed baby" or "Open your legs when I see you"? (Aha!) It seemed like you were at the top of Mt. Everest claiming for victory but when the wind was too overwhelming, strucked you down and rolled you like a toilet paper till cut and bruises will hurt you too deep. (Okay, what am I saying?) Nah, forget it!</i><br />
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<i>(Whoah, it seemed like somebody gave you a hard punch) !! Feelings and attraction vanished, made you feel desperate to make him a punching bag......</i></div>
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MysLykeMeehhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11875949739930737616noreply@blogger.com32tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6037441508473052610.post-75385164642627741742009-02-09T06:38:00.008-05:002013-11-04T22:55:56.472-05:00Sleep<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAbFVBId1n9ywfmWkyIWP8vo7t6gNP3S_VOKX81HBCrh_vAMagjPP80eehDJCcnDvBB8bbBcfIivFgn4mtZ5f8ODION6umNZ5_LDHiuqrS1kiIus6IyuIn1wqcPodJ8PIRN2FXZ2yHldKt/s1600-h/2480766284_cc2b8c3d6c.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300762541526107170" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAbFVBId1n9ywfmWkyIWP8vo7t6gNP3S_VOKX81HBCrh_vAMagjPP80eehDJCcnDvBB8bbBcfIivFgn4mtZ5f8ODION6umNZ5_LDHiuqrS1kiIus6IyuIn1wqcPodJ8PIRN2FXZ2yHldKt/s400/2480766284_cc2b8c3d6c.jpg" style="display: block; height: 287px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
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Alarm clock sounded. Too loud. Yawned. Still, sleepy. Stretched arms. Yawned. Went back to bed. Wishing for more sleep. Sleep. Snore.Slumber. Drifted. It alarmed again for five times. Earsplitting. Hit the button. Yawned. Sat on bed. Time to go. </div>
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Monday blues. <br />
<br /></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
or<br />
<br /></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
Winter/Snow blues<br />
<br /></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
or<br />
<br /></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
Manic Mondays.<br />
<br /></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
A cup of coffee would make me feel good.<br />
<br />
Thanks goodness for the guy who invented the coffee.</div>
<div>
</div>
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</div>
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</div>
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</div>
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<br />
Image source: NettLegg's Digital Photo</div>
MysLykeMeehhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11875949739930737616noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6037441508473052610.post-17984325439651533562009-01-15T21:49:00.008-05:002022-03-17T13:16:19.358-04:00Never, Ever Forget<a href="http://www.gophoto.it/view.php?i=https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP0_ZA-ePJT6mKmg4kSx_n_fpg6GTn3F70RwZ71Cy_YElNvqiC1Xsfg6RP3WEA7b57PabRjMsrMXwCCoaV1Lhr5xf2HZ9RPweLpTfdVEMWhoifCBfyUwEN8wuHfIw7DxoaMpPZX4ObvKOV/s1600-h/ATgAAAA2M5GmlpC2jp8vdnFHRfJ2AJiXT90CMhPH8PilL6OjRZPrAHta2Yncp3fadE0qPYi6Vr5pexX-SsvVVLQLQWZ8AJtU9VB6gBNO14_2Pk_VoRwNSYFKKGuYoQ.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291721279114723714" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP0_ZA-ePJT6mKmg4kSx_n_fpg6GTn3F70RwZ71Cy_YElNvqiC1Xsfg6RP3WEA7b57PabRjMsrMXwCCoaV1Lhr5xf2HZ9RPweLpTfdVEMWhoifCBfyUwEN8wuHfIw7DxoaMpPZX4ObvKOV/s400/ATgAAAA2M5GmlpC2jp8vdnFHRfJ2AJiXT90CMhPH8PilL6OjRZPrAHta2Yncp3fadE0qPYi6Vr5pexX-SsvVVLQLQWZ8AJtU9VB6gBNO14_2Pk_VoRwNSYFKKGuYoQ.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 300px;" /></a><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br />
Your presence in this world is not by accidents<br />
You were born through love without regrets;<br />
Your mom and your dad were happy when you came,<br />
Your existence is a gift without dread or shame.<br />
Never, ever forget about your real qualities,<br />
You are a unique person with special characteristics;<br />
Nobody can compare your complete uniqueness;<br />
you're one of a kind, far more - no less.<br />
<br />
Never, ever forget that you can be what you want to be,<br />
Your life is a blessing as you choose your way;<br />
Don’t forget to dream as far as you can be,<br />
Reach for your dream no matter what blocks your way.<br />
Reach for your goals, dream for the stars<br />
Whichever ways, it’s who you are;<br />
Expect troubles as you go on towards your journey;<br />
But, whatever happens, don’t ever give up<br />
Whatever it takes, always look up above;<br />
The sky is there as a source of inspiration;<br />
When there’s a problem, there’s always solution.<br />
Take time to pray and things will be easy for you<br />
Take a deep breath and the world will smile upon you.<br />
<br />
Take your life one day at a time<br />
Enjoy your blessings from time to time;<br />
Troubles in your way may come along<br />
But always take courage and be strong.<br />
Understand the cycle of everybody’s life,<br />
Once you plant hatred, it begets strife;<br />
But, once you cultivate love and hope,<br />
It grows more and will help you cope.<br />
Don’t waste time for your lovers from your past,<br />
Reach for your own happiness, don’t ever stop.<br />
<br />
If you worry too much, it waste your energy<br />
Nothing can be done if you’re carried away;<br />
Let the day go and tomorrow comes<br />
Let the sun shine and end it, sublime.<br />
Invest friendship, you’ll end up wise<br />
Treasure the people- you’ll get the prize.<br />
Money is nothing compared to a friend,<br />
Friendship is beautiful, you can always depend.<br />
<br />
<br />
Never, ever forget that life have so many questions<br />
Once you’re entangled, there will be confusions;<br />
But, don’t take it seriously, yet-live life of serenity<br />
You will find answers as you go along the way,<br />
Just don’t leave rooms for insecurity--<br />
Life itself will answer your questions,<br />
Just live life for your own realizations.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
Note: "I'm inspired by my life now a day. I'm not getting married (lolzz) or something...I'm just inspired, that's why I wrote this poem at this very night!..and, I don't know how I will feel tomorrow, so better write my feelings away!</div>
</div>
MysLykeMeehhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11875949739930737616noreply@blogger.com32tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6037441508473052610.post-14520982755441179072009-01-11T19:37:00.003-05:002013-11-04T22:57:26.632-05:00Weird Dream<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgapV4YzU8pQTrEb4M-xNdy1k6Dh_XMwSjgOTeF12O_am-lvt_BmBIBqEkGdIHB11UEU9ps7y3iNJPiUm7ckpu05ZQhyyqoeCvO2DeBRLre3mT9BGaJ8CoYYsJ6ySjt6ocQzNfGQVMkdN8_/s1600-h/ATUAAACs1FCMZ-Bs4i9Ii_Xt8ohdmUivxUzWHCc8p-kFgSeRdzHiROB3FvrwweJDGChL7srOofvTLGhGF-uQnF-N48v4AJtU9VBtdVTe4drq8KB81qF5oXQwyrkZtA.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgapV4YzU8pQTrEb4M-xNdy1k6Dh_XMwSjgOTeF12O_am-lvt_BmBIBqEkGdIHB11UEU9ps7y3iNJPiUm7ckpu05ZQhyyqoeCvO2DeBRLre3mT9BGaJ8CoYYsJ6ySjt6ocQzNfGQVMkdN8_/s400/ATUAAACs1FCMZ-Bs4i9Ii_Xt8ohdmUivxUzWHCc8p-kFgSeRdzHiROB3FvrwweJDGChL7srOofvTLGhGF-uQnF-N48v4AJtU9VBtdVTe4drq8KB81qF5oXQwyrkZtA.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
Last night, I was up too late. My brain won't make me sleep. My eyes kept on glaring and staring at the walls. I tried to close it but my brain snapped it open. I reclined on my bed while my back leaning on the yellow paint wall and grabbed my laptop. I kept signing in and signing out. What was the used? I turned it off. Darkness invades. I switched on my night lamp to give me enough light. Midnight came. I went back to bed; hoping and wishing that sleep will claim me and sent me to nothingness. I knew that snowflakes kept on falling on my window pane. Turned. Flipped to one side. Then, the other side. I heard my heater's sound. I heard my brain talking, conversing the other side of my brain. I closed my eyes, but my brain kept on saying something which I could n't grasped the words. Turning to one side, I kicked my blanket away. I hid my face on my pillow and controlled my breathing.<br />
<br />
Breathe.<br />
In.<br />
Out.<br />
Inhale.<br />
Exhale.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ45w91m7FIG52oAGFUHowS0UKPcPjRYdoz3tUs1tC_1KsUq4VXaRlDPkhkgPTrJN3dmF0L1meGIrDOnv3V83GtmdjHNJKKQvaRbVXnAENWmZ0U_9uIhJmGkd89XlANGrDBi_wh6xYCU2_/s1600-h/IMG_1077.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ45w91m7FIG52oAGFUHowS0UKPcPjRYdoz3tUs1tC_1KsUq4VXaRlDPkhkgPTrJN3dmF0L1meGIrDOnv3V83GtmdjHNJKKQvaRbVXnAENWmZ0U_9uIhJmGkd89XlANGrDBi_wh6xYCU2_/s400/IMG_1077.JPG" /></a></div>
<br />
I was thinking about the blue skies and the blue beach while I was walking at the seashore and admiring the scene. Breathe. I imagined my feet touching the waves, playing with it while the birds flying across the sky. Breathe. I kept on thinking; picturing the scene of two lovers walking barefoot, their hands entwined. Breathe. They look so sweet and romantic. I could feel their love overflowing. I felt so good just picturing two people in such a sweet and wonderful paradise. Breathe. It made me smile and draw a deep satisfying sigh. Breathe. I heard melodious and lyrical voices. Slow voices. Tuneful. Pleasing. From mild to moderate- somebody was talking. A female voice. Kept on talking. Humming. Droning. Buzzing. Knocking at the door of my brain. Disturbance. Absurdity. I knocked it away.<br />
<br />
Concentration spoilt. No more. Meditation walked out my door.<br />
<br />
I sat on my bed, breathing continuously. Switched on the bedside lamp. Grabbed the unfinished "Twilight" book reading. Flip the pages, could understand nothing. Closed the book. Put it at the side table. So let the torture began. I avoided looking at the clock but I couldn't resist it. One o' clock was not hard enough. Would it be? Well, don't ask me. What else will people do when they couldn't sleep? Think. What would they think? The ten things that will make people sleep:<br />
<br />
1. Meditation (Yeah, failed)<br />
2. Open the fridge and eat sweets. (Fine, help me to gain weight)<br />
3. Thinking about get naked on the bed(Nah- too cold) <br />
4. Stars? (No stars)<br />
5. What about snowflakes? ( I don't sweat it)<br />
6. Watch TV ( No shows..., only commercials on hot babes encouraging people to call 'the heat')<br />
7. Hearing snores. ( Nobody snores)<br />
8. Counting from 1 to 100 ( I lose the counts)<br />
9. Thinking my mom, my dad, my sisters, my family and friends Nah- the verdict? Guilty. I haven't called. So, skipped it)<br />
10. The walls and the ceiling. I kept on staring.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7RVlZyb5OgqLGFGMKpahQte3ieXP4llB8uTwmRrGB1hzNYIemIZePY5Vkcl6brV1juIOvIeym8MLMf7PchVLKSTyzHzWnlPabP8JWIcfy0FmW4DYUWU6iQjfjYAVh6QtBP0jT6xnG2_4W/s1600-h/PregnantDreams.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7RVlZyb5OgqLGFGMKpahQte3ieXP4llB8uTwmRrGB1hzNYIemIZePY5Vkcl6brV1juIOvIeym8MLMf7PchVLKSTyzHzWnlPabP8JWIcfy0FmW4DYUWU6iQjfjYAVh6QtBP0jT6xnG2_4W/s400/PregnantDreams.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Then, I drifted to sleep. But when I woke up at around seven 0'clock, I remembered my dream. I was dreaming of being pregnant to a horse. Heck... I dreamt about carrying a baby horse inside my tummy.<br />
<br />
Yes, horse!<br />
<br />
What the heck?MysLykeMeehhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11875949739930737616noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6037441508473052610.post-79488889735867340832008-12-17T19:42:00.001-05:002008-12-17T20:24:55.749-05:00Voices in My Head<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7LY743b-qejbNc6qCTLGKALfN0Qus4PuxYbu44lEXPYSMseOTMvBDuL8UnT_enMPwfpI_de_hgUaD9IQo-f9yok2mbQ0vBthXv7xdGb8UpDbIN9HxCpCK8Zwlvj8s8IEcQZmfo08aHAcj/s1600-h/words.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" gi="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7LY743b-qejbNc6qCTLGKALfN0Qus4PuxYbu44lEXPYSMseOTMvBDuL8UnT_enMPwfpI_de_hgUaD9IQo-f9yok2mbQ0vBthXv7xdGb8UpDbIN9HxCpCK8Zwlvj8s8IEcQZmfo08aHAcj/s400/words.bmp" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">Surely I am sane,</div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;">Heck...I am not insane!</div><div style="text-align: center;">It's just these voices in my head,</div><div style="text-align: center;">screaming and yelling to freed;</div><div style="text-align: center;">begging and pleading for release,</div><div style="text-align: center;">trying to bail out from my brain cell</div><div style="text-align: center;">cracking and breaking in my neurotic shell.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Sometimes I don't even understand</div><div style="text-align: center;">how I formed those ferocious words?</div><div style="text-align: center;">I asked myself, "What's the purpose"?</div><div style="text-align: center;">Those words were stuck but</div><div style="text-align: center;">when it flows- really craps!</div><div style="text-align: center;">Sometimes, it's encouraging-</div><div style="text-align: center;">oftentimes, it's boring;</div><div style="text-align: center;">hundred times, it's sucks!</div><div style="text-align: center;">Like I couldn't retract,</div><div style="text-align: center;">inhale and exhale truly helps,</div><div style="text-align: center;">closing my eyes not to creep;</div><div style="text-align: center;">but these words are like a mower</div><div style="text-align: center;">ready to mow the owner--!</div><div style="text-align: center;">These voices in my head,</div><div style="text-align: center;">it bled and pleads-</div><div style="text-align: center;">probing and mocking</div><div style="text-align: center;">piercing inside my head.</div><div style="text-align: center;">it's some kinda of it lurks in me</div><div style="text-align: center;">deep in the nether regions of my soul,</div><div style="text-align: center;">down to mid-central of my core</div><div style="text-align: center;">i tried to to stop it, i ended up stupid;</div><div style="text-align: center;">I wriggled to make a trap,</div><div style="text-align: center;">Even battled to lock it up-!</div><div style="text-align: center;">But, my passions for writing</div><div style="text-align: center;">is never ending-</div><div style="text-align: center;">It's like a river of dreams, meet the streams</div><div style="text-align: center;">overflows freely towards the ocean</div><div style="text-align: center;">and finding the indescribable feeling of Neverland.</div><div style="text-align: center;"></div>MysLykeMeehhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11875949739930737616noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6037441508473052610.post-4989318845753237952008-12-12T18:34:00.008-05:002008-12-15T09:10:58.855-05:00My Dancing Boots<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRMDL0eP3mh75tnydYNmaBAqxc6jMo4z-RmjkVQSTVZUzB0Ncqf_eMAKhg5f-nPvObBMdS7R0CV4irNbuNktvM4bs7yNzI-9pBtRjzOS31fb9eitXfkP3FeAVff_IGw2KphHefqx79lgof/s1600-h/IMG_0662.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" gi="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRMDL0eP3mh75tnydYNmaBAqxc6jMo4z-RmjkVQSTVZUzB0Ncqf_eMAKhg5f-nPvObBMdS7R0CV4irNbuNktvM4bs7yNzI-9pBtRjzOS31fb9eitXfkP3FeAVff_IGw2KphHefqx79lgof/s400/IMG_0662.JPG" /></a></div><div class="" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">My friend and I went to a Disco</div><div style="text-align: center;">Saturday night, we danced till two;</div><div style="text-align: center;">She, on her dancing shoes</div><div style="text-align: center;">and I; on my favourite boots.</div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
<br />
We danced like nobody till our body sweats,</div><div style="text-align: center;">We didn't mind other people as we enjoyed the heat;</div><div style="text-align: center;">Even though that the music seemed off the beat</div><div style="text-align: center;">still following the rhythm as my boots heard it tick.</div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
<br />
The music played were not totally rocking</div><div style="text-align: center;">Every mouth speaks as I heard them complaining;</div><div style="text-align: center;">But my dancing boots didn't complain the song</div><div style="text-align: center;">rockin' and rockin' till ol' night long.</div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
<br />
Rihanna's 'Please Don't Stop The Music, only played once</div><div style="text-align: center;">We went again and again to request on the DJ stand</div><div style="text-align: center;">But, that DJ- was really, totally, technically uncool-</div><div style="text-align: center;">He did put on "Macarena" like we swayed like a fool!</div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
<br />
Anyway..anyway...'nough for that....!!!</div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;">Whenever I went to a disco, I wore my dancing boots</div><div style="text-align: center;">it made me dance like crazy and completely off the hook;</div><div style="text-align: center;">My brother-in-law used to call it, 'Hooker boots' (eeek..!)</div><div style="text-align: center;">Just laughed at the ‘sort of name’ for my dancing boots.</div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
<br />
I enjoyed wearing it coz it makes me cool</div><div style="text-align: center;">It gives me confidence to stand, really tall (lolzzz--)</div><div style="text-align: center;">For the upcoming days, I know it will wear out;</div><div style="text-align: center;">For now, I relish the moments when the disco shouts!</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>MysLykeMeehhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11875949739930737616noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6037441508473052610.post-54496280021166858682008-12-09T07:57:00.024-05:002011-11-22T11:52:16.051-05:00Call of the Wild<div style="text-align: left;">
<br />
<br />
Pretty sure, you've seen them (You may noticed I used "her/him"pronoun-instead of "it". I would like to think that they are part of this universe too, alive and kicking (not just another kinda of thing) . When I took a visit at the Toronto Zoo, they seemed so excited to see me. I couldn't stop clicking my camera, they were so lovable. If I could come inside and hug them (Yeah--,and they're going to eat me- lol!) <br />
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<img alt="" border="0" height="513" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277776360160588882" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRB-AYolgGAcv_xrCqlMkFX20TYD_eMfANfbNrABFB0LaycLeM8hxbTfV4jZH9Y2xsP2-_zCsHrKD8urqxbYkwdK5e5fnNvaHaOPmbCBMk9zhvFzoyvozB0kjaHC0Y6-AKc_ZTLqX58s9m/s640/IMG_7106.JPG" style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" width="640" /> The Camel (With a Vow)<br />
<br />
<img alt="" border="0" height="640" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277777155879964610" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEq3Yli8luwGmFQJWYnVeb8GlvBb0qJ9hfRmG4JZ-YBvc_1gSF7uZGSyRitD3YV6uv3_TNSXlXsu3g4g5HxsI_3um3ax1tQ0hsE1cLL647Vde8oybEnIga8Efu4ndY5sMJP2QMkZFiiIKD/s640/IMG_7113.JPG" style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" width="480" /><br />
Matchie's Tree Kangaroo ( he ate something when i took this)</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<img alt="" border="0" height="385" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277778991213979330" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKEBMG9C9PfH6dVTFU9HIHyuLtZVegGVxsjly14Q4Ra2w-uBP2POzs2ka72BfFvgzUl1LM1l9nvRoeSPWzxbhAkgbaFp_pLVfp76P42M0MmlrkvtkdmFs8vESP3zJx7OnJydsbni9-4kh5/s640/IMG_7189.JPG" style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" width="640" /> <br />
<br />
<br />
he was sleeping but i sneaked in....<br />
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<img alt="" border="0" height="395" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277779938020555714" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTgqXnZY4wK_VzAdMavizJlkKcToLZM83LzSzAZRtFQMxZHA_-yu6wTBcQJM1JYylk8yADaU7JmhVQ9vaG7I9QS2RMxmWiKDgcnfYUDglPgkiDIEXwyYop5yBCZeC-iDmXlbgUfS_hNyOm/s640/IMG_7191.JPG" style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" width="640" /> </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br />
Santa's Reindeer (on the loose from Santa's grip)<br />
<br />
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<img alt="" border="0" height="409" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277786391875946786" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz9xkFxtZ2N87nnZG13rokY5pzvgeI9Eq1Lvl9hyJPIAOclgSi8pF_xWC7dPILEIK9Ijv7weptlqNwquUVDohPzQuyD6GKIqpGqyDQ_7-keMBWmKgrIRfB9W4BzVCKnyipTJz-TVVpNzcc/s640/IMG_7198.JPG" style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" width="640" /> <br />
<br />
Przewalski's Horse (The Mongolian wild horse), </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
is the only wild horse in existence today. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Until recently,this species roamed the mountains </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
and deserts of Central Asia- but has not been seen in </div>
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the wild since 1968.<br />
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<img alt="" border="0" height="480" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277788060316850322" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4YNUMZHsjQfpY2bT2zwG0zJcizaKlTk2N-x6ik1grLUupfw-LsRk5nqUJINz0vmAZhT2thjfj1yN9C4K6FaoNeiMhzpzNxBlYJu3uVcoyLGw-EAmeM6pFXPyAj47Jca6PYhKbQQAFTxzJ/s640/IMG_7205.JPG" style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" width="640" /></div>
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Just give him Banana, he seems fine with that! </div>
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<img alt="" border="0" height="480" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277789375074005570" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrV1MnqNbGk4we2iEg0eiIrwmOqk8xY09r7XqF9uqjI-uCA5MlFpXQvexPLJcjFAde5s-ZVDrcnFLEeDmoSaZGQxK3QHuL41GLrbDJXt8qTdcY_p2cd1PQlyRIjZ5cI4_a0iy49m_as2Vg/s640/IMG_7366.JPG" style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" width="640" /> The Zebra (At last...)</div>
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<img alt="" border="0" height="640" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277790376013941714" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXmSBK-obpNEnBjBT3rPfE_OHCwZdyfWQac2tvkAAwHiQYIqb34wEOR5H_YUkxaE6tX-q8Iv8FV1FlbyGDi3ueXJYM2-ISRTh2a0Sah7FvF6kla90L_Q_TiUdPHKtYHHz7sh-gAu5W_4wS/s640/IMG_7338.JPG" style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" width="480" /> <br />
<br />
when i took a picture of this monkey, he was showing off his acrobatic </div>
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move. He was doing it to impress (I guessed..)<br />
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<img alt="" border="0" height="480" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277791917658145906" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPthvl07IKI0X755Im01PY0XXeSvwU3szN3SjQt5qJLYKGWN_mEjy7dARrcQ_hpGjZj7vxLR8iKAjr-PVRuXmdQplV9iEANiFTDVPt09LvwGEahSXRZxMYRQSHkrwwaJzBNChEC9-YEsz9/s640/IMG_7356.JPG" style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" width="640" /> </div>
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Friendly Girraffe.... (Loved this one with a white dove)</div>
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<img alt="" border="0" height="480" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277792751670018370" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYOoDOJ9nqD37PvAIE1ndOfV8nG9pTwps46UVQaeOVacgXYa6UjWGbLOyhyTi8mW_YQhTvBA-W_v6kr_to3s19no9mSAmBmJBodUdjsy_bVVc0FP6AM3Kbji6aX0JBe1cEIltSo2qTrO1p/s640/IMG_7388.JPG" style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" width="640" /></div>
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He pee like a waterfalls (as in..really!)goshh..</div>
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<i>'i still have lot of pictures: Jaguar, Cheetah, Tiger, Boar, </i></div>
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<i>Lion, Snakes, </i><i>and a lot more...but, i don't have time </i></div>
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<i>for now...!!! Hope u enjoyed them!!...</i></div>
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<i>************************************************************</i></div>
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<i>Take care! </i></div>
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</div>MysLykeMeehhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11875949739930737616noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6037441508473052610.post-58692111656230189732008-11-29T06:54:00.008-05:002022-03-17T13:17:16.592-04:00War<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_EYHLqPY6I_OtQNrwbhs0hyphenhyphenrXewWyWKiIclVt6MVd2IbN0mh4ckpfIqGXPrNT8QpkTL39gUpaZOZF1BtUy1u8UJvkQnz31qOtBo08AYY0WsjILX89s2OEHn4aGS52RADUMPFbdm865T4o/s1600-h/iraq-war.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274048162838698066" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_EYHLqPY6I_OtQNrwbhs0hyphenhyphenrXewWyWKiIclVt6MVd2IbN0mh4ckpfIqGXPrNT8QpkTL39gUpaZOZF1BtUy1u8UJvkQnz31qOtBo08AYY0WsjILX89s2OEHn4aGS52RADUMPFbdm865T4o/s320/iraq-war.jpg" style="float: left; height: 320px; margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; width: 392px;" /></a><br />
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As guns and bullets fire, floating in the air,<br />
Red blood scattered compelling many lives;<br />
How many are there, innocent sufferers?<br />
Young and old, thousands- no one survives.<br />
<br />
<br />
Cold hearts, hot blooded minds started the war,<br />
Simple arguments, the treaty? Not belong to the poor,<br />
Who claims? Who start? Nobody to blame?<br />
A principle of two states, of an opposing factor!<br />
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<br />
Political ambitions, power conquerors,<br />
Oils, lands, mines- to increase the powers;<br />
While some rich countries prosper,<br />
The third world countries suffer.<br />
<br />
<br />
How far thus war will take too many lives?<br />
How many mothers aching for the loss of their child?<br />
How many soldiers wounded and loss their hearts?<br />
Hundreds? Thousands? Countless of people who dies.<br />
<br />
<br />
What language of freedom shall a nation stand?<br />
What verses of hope will an enemy understand?<br />
Nothing seems right, only words of reprimand,<br />
No treaty of peace, just the sound of bullets and guns.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCm1qHBimTe0D4ZAtsXAKthuVLdRhc6hz_RIRS41DJuzfvsXjY8l4MFcRYF8ju5mKes9AH5z1TzNSI94653Rq7ysDPaFIVm2O7JhE3DYLtbPdjrGBYBQP3VsLxJsS54b-L-m167SbOR-TG/s1600-h/Air%2520War%2520Dresden%2520Clean%2520Up.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274047862526446130" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCm1qHBimTe0D4ZAtsXAKthuVLdRhc6hz_RIRS41DJuzfvsXjY8l4MFcRYF8ju5mKes9AH5z1TzNSI94653Rq7ysDPaFIVm2O7JhE3DYLtbPdjrGBYBQP3VsLxJsS54b-L-m167SbOR-TG/s320/Air%2520War%2520Dresden%2520Clean%2520Up.jpg" style="float: left; height: 258px; margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; width: 347px;" /></a><br />
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Barrel of tears refused to be filled,<br />
Broken hearts, emotions stirred;<br />
Scream of survival, wail for their life,<br />
Of the people at war- no one can revived.<br />
<br />
<br />
Shadows of war, the collapse of the nation’s dream,<br />
The history will mark the steps of innocents fear;<br />
How long? How wide shall the blood spread?<br />
The shout and scream of mercy, shall the war end?<br />
<br />
<br />
War is so easy to start but too hard to end,<br />
It takes a lifetime for the people to heal and mend;<br />
A trace of sadness, memories shall never fade,<br />
Only sorrows, widow’s cry and bloodshed.<br />
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<br />
03-06-08<br />
9:12 am<br />
<br />
<i></i><br />
<i>"pictures are courtesy from google. i wrote this poem on the above date. my mood that time was intense as i was seeing and watching all war movies that day. </i><br />
<i></i><br />
<i>and, what happened to india was really devastating. there were power struggles, officials and the government were caught off guard... who would have guess? the youngsters were like playing Xbox or play station, which cause the innocents blood to RIP. </i><br />
<i></i><br />
<br />
<i>take care...guys!<br />
</i>MysLykeMeehhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11875949739930737616noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6037441508473052610.post-28872971982942086252008-11-27T10:01:00.007-05:002013-11-04T23:00:43.161-05:00The Rights of Women...in simple terms, let's analyze and scrutinize all of these rights one by one..., you may be against or may agree with me, but well?<br />
<br />
i was reading this book, (very very very old book, 1976- yah! too old), 'how to be an assertive, not aggressive woman'.<br />
<br />
1. the right to have rights and stand up for them (oh yes, women need this!)<br />
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2. the right to dignity and self-respect (every woman do)<br />
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3. the right to consider your own needs (yes, in proper perspectives)<br />
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4. the right to self-fulfillment (too brainy is not that bad, ehh?)<br />
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5. the right to accept challenges (so, i have a right to take risk, make mistakes, and learn from every life's challenges) Sounds cool!<br />
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6. the right to determine your own life-style (so, i don't have to apologize or to explain why I'm still single?) Hmnn--<br />
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7. the right to change yourself, your behaviour, values, life situations ( well...? i don't have to feel guilty if i'm unpredictable or erratic?- okay, scapegoat- (hehe)<br />
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7.1: the right to reply to rudeness (yah, hold your tongue fellas-! women may bite back and yah by words)<br />
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7.2: the right to spend money you didn't earn (ahh, i like this but will anyone give me money to spend?)<br />
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7.3: the right to be successful (oh yeah, climb the ladder, reach the top and be ambitious)<br />
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7.4: the right to select and reject dates (oouch... ) Well? lol--:) , it sounds mean, ehh?<br />
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7.5: the right to split the household chores (hmn, does not apply to me!)<br />
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7.6: the right to be left alone ( yah, leave me alone--will yah?)<br />
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7.7: the right to ask information (yah, in case were lost, information shouldn't be barred)<br />
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7.8: the right to reject impossible situations (hmn, so we can escape from complicated situations)<br />
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7.9: the right to date a younger man (lol:_) , ekk- now, i love the author)<br />
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8. the right to keep your sexual actions to yourself (hmnn--tempting!, lol)<br />
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9. the right to say yes or no ( for what? , read the book)<br />
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10. the right to stand up for yourself! (to sit-down too?)<br />
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These are just simple, inalienable rights that every woman should know. There are countless of rights or women's rights which are applicable for all women around the world. Yet, sad to say that most women are afraid to speak for their rights.<br />
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**************************************************<br />
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and..., in addition to---a man should listen to a woman: why?<br />
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A woman is driving at night on a narrow road .. At the same time, a man is driving in the opposite direction on that same road.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh38T8bykGZ3lVqGkT7KrSo-kG3rFa35xZpA0b6uJc8SQ2jKGQtie7J6H3ss42YBh0Owhh1aknjTxUVzTZgi7Uddk20uDo9q1kqczuwcF0JkfVXDorpfOFt-nn-L3oT2DNKBzMuVU4cMm6C/s1600-h/women+driver.gif"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273370177449773074" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh38T8bykGZ3lVqGkT7KrSo-kG3rFa35xZpA0b6uJc8SQ2jKGQtie7J6H3ss42YBh0Owhh1aknjTxUVzTZgi7Uddk20uDo9q1kqczuwcF0JkfVXDorpfOFt-nn-L3oT2DNKBzMuVU4cMm6C/s320/women+driver.gif" style="float: left; height: 80px; margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; width: 180px;" /></a><br />
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When they narrowly pass each other, the woman rolls down her window and loudly yells, "HORSE!" Immediately, the man shouts back, "Witch!"The man laughs. He is proud to have reacted so quickly to the shouting woman and takes the next turn in the road, maintaining his speed.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6BI8x1XKu2KU6lNHHg4MKP7p8mtqM0B3zZ7jYTerCon7DH2OIX8eLbg_RTwIll5iwE8r7lXSG0rCCFvQ7ciPOiBJ6_1LmB7l08QNaeOKFniJhpiFb4rL9E8BVczLgNdOUeLiw4N3Bxmpk/s1600-h/women+drivers+two.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273370689861630722" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6BI8x1XKu2KU6lNHHg4MKP7p8mtqM0B3zZ7jYTerCon7DH2OIX8eLbg_RTwIll5iwE8r7lXSG0rCCFvQ7ciPOiBJ6_1LmB7l08QNaeOKFniJhpiFb4rL9E8BVczLgNdOUeLiw4N3Bxmpk/s320/women+drivers+two.jpg" style="float: left; height: 234px; margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; width: 399px;" /></a><br />
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Moral of the story:<br />
Men never listen, and when they do, they don't understand one word a woman says.MysLykeMeehhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11875949739930737616noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6037441508473052610.post-70470807608933345042008-11-24T18:40:00.011-05:002013-11-04T23:01:37.249-05:00Goodbye, For The Last Time<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIeeUlW9HaizDZzNvNebR-tuLHR5t8_4VJUJhf_M_E1PFfClQWjh8zAgI1mXtrFX27IJk2YJsL1ya7UuVfJ5k7b1X3sM8MUaFq01oORafznB-NyQoze3tXMfz-Ds8K9r1UthBjc2824iqQ/s1600-h/footsteps.bmp"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272374700181637794" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIeeUlW9HaizDZzNvNebR-tuLHR5t8_4VJUJhf_M_E1PFfClQWjh8zAgI1mXtrFX27IJk2YJsL1ya7UuVfJ5k7b1X3sM8MUaFq01oORafznB-NyQoze3tXMfz-Ds8K9r1UthBjc2824iqQ/s320/footsteps.bmp" style="float: left; height: 279px; margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; width: 570px;" /></a><br />
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<span style="color: #333333;">Parting words are never been so easy<br />
But then again you made me say;<br />
I wish I didn’t say I can’t move on,<br />
I will not say again I keep hanging on;<br />
I am tired of saying the same old reason,<br />
Then I‘m back again, still holding on,<br />
The same memories, the same heartaches;<br />
On the same love with the trace of your face.<br />
Engulfed with sadness and painful memories<br />
Flooded by hurt and a cavity of bitterness.<br />
The pain of saying goodbye,<br />
Is the painful feeling I can’t deny;<br />
Just when I say my last goodbye<br />
My heart aches betoken to cry:<br />
Just when my eyes no longer know the tears,<br />
One teardrop’s falling, then again it sheds.<br />
But my mind is stronger than any of this madness,<br />
I will say it again, for one last time;<br />
I will say it now, my heart’s goodbye!<br />
Once again, for the last heck of time<br />
I will say this word, for one last sigh,<br />
Goodbye to you and this is the last;<br />
Goodbye my lover, it’s time to mend.<br />
It’s the saddest word my heart can hear,<br />
But it’s the healthy word my mind can bear;<br />
I no longer dream of the promises that failed,<br />
I mustn’t regret of the last word said.<br />
Through all this year that I’ve been through?<br />
My mind was wandering out of the blue, </span></div>
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<span style="color: #333333;">Stick and stones may break bones but</span></div>
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<span style="color: #333333;">lies will break a heart with such pretensions.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #333333;">In all the twist of agonizing sensation,</span></div>
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<span style="color: #333333;">I have to stop it now for all damn reason.<br />
It’s better to say and wave goodbye<br />
Than to hear my heart twinge and cry.<br />
You will be soon fade away,<br />
Like the sand where the seas brush it away,</span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #333333;">The marks of your footsteps no longer exist,</span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #333333;">The scars you created will soon vanish.<br />
As the birds in the sky spread its wings;<br />
And as the clouds forming for another change;<br />
Like the mist in the morning disappears;<br />
I walk freely without the tears of your memories.</span></div>
MysLykeMeehhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11875949739930737616noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6037441508473052610.post-56318673852993150942008-11-14T20:33:00.004-05:002013-11-04T23:05:29.751-05:00Rock the NightDancing to the beat of music,<br />
Laughter and sweats composed the beat,<br />
Disco sounds rocked the night,<br />
Rave music, spirit’s high<br />
Body moved heat to heat.<br />
Mr DJ played the song,<br />
Disco music all along--<br />
Body sway, to and fro<br />
Shake and tremble<br />
Shoved it long.<br />
Dripping sweat,<br />
Drenched his shirt<br />
Hard rock music, all were set.<br />
Breathing deep,<br />
numbness felt.<br />
A sudden jolt,<br />
increase the speed-<br />
Bolted his body on the floor,<br />
Sudden weakness comes along;<br />
Tingling sensations in his face,<br />
Arm or leg bolted his feet.<br />
Loss of speech, vision blur,<br />
Particularly in one part of his eye.<br />
Stroke attacked!<br />
<br />
Call 911---<br />
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<br />
"<i>i was studying the signs and symptoms of stroke, then---my mind was wandering to the disco house (like i want to go dancing tonight--ya know?, TGIF--thanks God it's Friday)---; so i tried to collaborate 'stroke attack and disco'---" hehehe--found it funny after i wrote it"----, huh---never find the writing so boring--somehow it ease my thoughts and comfort my mind" </i>MysLykeMeehhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11875949739930737616noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6037441508473052610.post-36886363433748509682008-11-13T13:33:00.008-05:002011-12-19T13:27:29.705-05:00What's Wrong?<i>went to a store one late afternoon ----</i><br />
<i>bought a present or a gift---</i><br />
<i>met the owner----</i><br />
<i>while browsing and checking out the perfect gift----</i><br />
<i>he approached----"this one is perfect for a gift'-----</i><br />
<i>looked at it----it was indeed great------.</i><br />
<br />
<i></i><br />
<br />
<i>paid for it on the cashier's corner---</i><br />
<i>yet his eyes roaming, so near---</i><br />
<i>met his eyes---dark and round---</i><br />
<i>swiped the debit card ---and waiting around----</i><br />
<i>stamped the feet---waited a bit---</i><br />
<i>then he asked something out its wit!</i><br />
<br />
<i></i><br />
<br />
<i>"are you married?' </i><br />
<i>eyes wondering, replied; "No"</i><br />
<i>"do you have a boyfriend?"</i><br />
<i>stranger asked personal questions,</i><br />
<i>---sounds weird----!?</i><br />
<i>"No"----</i><br />
<i>"Why?" asked by his----</i><br />
<br />
<i>"What why?"-</i><br />
<i>confused a little bit----</i><br />
<i>ignored it.</i><br />
<br />
<i>waited the item---took a moment.</i><br />
<br />
<i>"A ********* girl like you should get married", he added.</i><br />
<i>---"you should get a boyfriend", as he continued.</i><br />
<i>---he told his story---; he migrated from this country,</i><br />
<i>long years back---, work hard; buy and sell---and now,</i><br />
<i>owned two stores; one in Sheppard Ave and--</i><br />
<i>one in Victoria Pk. Ave---then, now---</i><br />
<i>"I'm looking for a wife"</i><br />
<br />
<i>----wanted to get out from the store----</i><br />
<i>rushing the time---quickly and possibly---</i><br />
<i>got the card--checked out---</i><br />
<i>he gave his number----!!</i><br />
<i>headed out----</i><br />
<i></i><br />
<i>"Call me"</i><br />
<i></i><br />
<i>she escaped again...</i><br />
<i>again and again---</i><br />
<i>she always do this,</i><br />
<i>from different encounters,</i><br />
<i>and from friends to friends---</i><br />
<i>or was it in the wrong timing?</i><br />
<i>or something's wrong....</i><br />
<i>what's wrong? </i><br />
<i></i><br />
<i>puzzled and confused</i><br />
<i>she also asked herself, "why?"</i><br />
<i>she heard those questions many times;</i><br />
<i>heard from strangers, friends, encounters</i><br />
<i>from time to times,</i><br />
<i>it was funny how the store owner</i><br />
<i>made her mulled over those questions again---</i><br />
<i>...why she could not find the answer?</i><br />
<i>the question's hanging...!</i><br />
<i>entirely, completely making her insane!</i><br />
<i></i><br />
<i>...was it her past that let her stay that way?</i><br />
<i>was her heart badly bruise that she drifts away?</i><br />
<i>afraid to love again? or afraid to be alone away?</i><br />
<i>she felt so free and contented, feel so happy and gay--</i><br />
<i>yet those questions--asking,</i><br />
<i>pleading for an answer---begging,</i><br />
<i>yearning to please---;</i><br />
<i></i><br />
<i>she asked herself, "what's wrong to stay this way?"</i><br />
<i>yet--- deep deep deep deep down, she wanted to </i><br />
<i>find the answers----</i><br />
<i></i><br />
<i>what makes her think that she's happy?</i><br />
<i>she joked, laughed, danced and sing around---</i><br />
<i>she tried to be joyful to encouraged everyone,</i><br />
<i>But--is she real? Is she true to herself?</i><br />
<i>Or she just hide something in order to stand?</i><br />
<i>beneath the shelves of happiness,</i><br />
<i>there were rooms for loneliness;</i><br />
<i>she knew it, she knows--she's hiding it.</i><br />
<i>she tried to hide it by her sweetest smiles,</i><br />
<i>and win her friends, encounters and families without a sigh.</i><br />
<i></i><br />
<i>--then again, those obvious signs,</i><br />
<i>telling her again--</i><br />
<i>asking out--heading out--</i><br />
<i>hangin' out---</i><br />
<i>calling her-- checking her,</i><br />
<i>she knew it-- she just ignored it,</i><br />
<i>or she just waiting the real spark?</i><br />
<i></i><br />
<i>somehow...she's afraid,</i><br />
<i>to love again? to trust?</i><br />
<i>give herself fully?</i><br />
<i>or to find her way back to the past.</i><br />
<i></i><br />
<i>or is it her ignorance?</i><br />
<i>stupidity and inanity?</i><br />
<i>or her acquired brain insanity?</i><br />
<i></i><br />
<i>something's wrong with her,</i><br />
<i>she know it--</i><br />
<i>she just couldn't figure what it is,</i><br />
<i>can't point her finger on---!!!</i><br />
<i></i><br />
<i>or maybe she just waiting...</i><br />
<i>the perfect timing---the real time,</i><br />
<i>to bloom, to fit, to protect, to care</i><br />
<i>and to love fully through the phase of time!</i><br />
<i></i><br />
<i></i><br />
<i></i><br />
<br />
<i></i><br />
<i></i><br />
<i></i><br />
<i></i><br />
<i></i><br />
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<i></i><br />
<i></i><br />
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<i></i><br />
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<i></i><br />
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<i></i><br />
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<i></i><br />
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<i></i>MysLykeMeehhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11875949739930737616noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6037441508473052610.post-83651046440527274332008-11-09T19:45:00.005-05:002022-03-17T13:18:00.719-04:00ThatThat tune--that melody---that lyrics---memories flooded, but feelings disappeared. That sound---that voice---that pitch---remembered, but time erase the pain. That face---that name---that soul----no longer linger----- no longer care. That heart---that love-----that person----seem an ordinary human soul. That was once special---that boy with a name--- that tagged the heart---getting out the tag----getting out the stain----zipping the memories---buried the memories---digging it never-----buried forever.<br />
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That voice---melodious voices---soothing sound---erases the fears. That sweet sound---penetrating the soul---captivating the heart----igniting the core. That promise----long---intimate---passionate---wild---waited---sealed---promise of a kiss---savage desire. That moment---each time spent---each memories await---sealed by two hearts---igniting the fire. That tender stolen heart---valuable---treasured----keep---promise of forever----dreams together---shared passion----envision with love's desire.MysLykeMeehhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11875949739930737616noreply@blogger.com9