<?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-1278107216301405605</id><updated>2011-04-22T11:37:22.901+08:00</updated><category term='me'/><category term='rant'/><title type='text'>Listen Up!</title><subtitle type='html'>contemplating alter-ego</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hatelifebuthavetoliveit.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1278107216301405605/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hatelifebuthavetoliveit.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Deesee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12545807318683521634</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y298/bidot/thumb_aaa.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>27</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1278107216301405605.post-6709577214657122384</id><published>2007-04-04T12:21:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-04-04T12:26:19.938+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Crap!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;color:#000000;"&gt;To piss me off at a very early hour is super nakaka-badtrip.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;color:#000000;"&gt;So instead of battling that stupid texter (whoever that is who happened to know my number and I don't know how), I'll be plugging that number here.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;color:#000000;"&gt;Feel free to bombard that number with whatever message you want.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;color:#000000;"&gt;To annoy me is okay but to provoke and mock me is another thing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;Puta ka!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:180%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;0928-7881828&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:180%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I'll be on a hiatus.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1278107216301405605-6709577214657122384?l=hatelifebuthavetoliveit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hatelifebuthavetoliveit.blogspot.com/feeds/6709577214657122384/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1278107216301405605&amp;postID=6709577214657122384' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1278107216301405605/posts/default/6709577214657122384'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1278107216301405605/posts/default/6709577214657122384'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hatelifebuthavetoliveit.blogspot.com/2007/04/crap.html' title='Crap!!!'/><author><name>Deesee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12545807318683521634</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y298/bidot/thumb_aaa.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1278107216301405605.post-3129917976714862711</id><published>2007-03-26T20:36:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-03-26T20:46:31.502+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Karma</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" &gt;Karma is usually translated as the law of cause and effect. That we suffer at present because of past harmful or spiteful actions. Karma underlines the importance of all individuals being responsible for their past and present actions. When taking actions, it is best to look at what effect this will have on others, and why is it that we are taking these actions.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/span&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: right; font-family: verdana; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.google.com.ph/url?sa=X&amp;start=21&amp;amp;oi=define&amp;q=http://www.siamese-dream.com/reference/buddhist_glossary.html&amp;amp;usg=__5HA-fw4WBvH20wJ8cfkvJP-Gnjg="&gt;www.siamese-dream.com/reference/buddhist_glossary.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Marami akong nababalitaan tungkol dito sa Karma. This even goes way back in Christ's time. Remember what He said?&lt;br /&gt;"Do not do unto others what you don't want them to do unto you."&lt;br /&gt;Tama nga naman. But why is it that people tend to be so stupid that they ignore this constantly. Thus they suffer and question God why them, among all the people in the world why them. Right? It happens, most people say, shit happens. Instead of blaming other people, why not try to look back at what you've done in the past. Even the slightest action from the past will alter whatever it is in the future.&lt;br /&gt;Kung ano man ang nagawa mo, masama man o mabuti, ay babalik rin sayo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Naniniwala ba kayo?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1278107216301405605-3129917976714862711?l=hatelifebuthavetoliveit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hatelifebuthavetoliveit.blogspot.com/feeds/3129917976714862711/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1278107216301405605&amp;postID=3129917976714862711' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1278107216301405605/posts/default/3129917976714862711'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1278107216301405605/posts/default/3129917976714862711'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hatelifebuthavetoliveit.blogspot.com/2007/03/karma.html' title='Karma'/><author><name>Deesee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12545807318683521634</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y298/bidot/thumb_aaa.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1278107216301405605.post-4680469402836944053</id><published>2007-03-22T21:28:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-03-22T21:36:53.550+08:00</updated><title type='text'>:: Fucked Up::</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#000000;"&gt;So yeah, it's over!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#000000;"&gt;5 months filled with sweet lies!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#000000;"&gt;5 months, she made a fool out of me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#000000;"&gt;To think, I cared for her so much and this is how she treats me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#000000;"&gt;I haven't done anything wrong.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#000000;"&gt;I never should have given her another chance, I never should have believed her.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#000000;"&gt;I'm disappointed that I've been fooled twice. So shame on me, right?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#000000;"&gt;You wanna know for what reason?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#000000;"&gt;It's because I made her feel that I'm in love with someone else.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#000000;"&gt;What the fuck is that?!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#000000;"&gt;God knows how much I've sacrificed, the things I did for her.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#000000;"&gt;Is it me or what?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#000000;"&gt;What part of me really hurts, is my ego.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#000000;"&gt;So if ever I'd see her, I'll definitely bash her head in the wall.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#000000;"&gt;Just thinking about what happened makes me want to destroy things.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#000000;"&gt;Hell, I could destroy this place right here.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#000000;"&gt;I don't need to speak obscene words about her.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#000000;"&gt;Ok, one word. BITCH.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#000000;"&gt;Fuckin bitch. Now, two words.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#000000;"&gt;This is fun. *&lt;em&gt;prancing around&lt;/em&gt;*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#000000;"&gt;Fuck her and that stupid third party.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#000000;"&gt;The hell with them all.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#000000;"&gt;I'll be moving on.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1278107216301405605-4680469402836944053?l=hatelifebuthavetoliveit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hatelifebuthavetoliveit.blogspot.com/feeds/4680469402836944053/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1278107216301405605&amp;postID=4680469402836944053' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1278107216301405605/posts/default/4680469402836944053'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1278107216301405605/posts/default/4680469402836944053'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hatelifebuthavetoliveit.blogspot.com/2007/03/fucked-up.html' title=':: Fucked Up::'/><author><name>Deesee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12545807318683521634</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y298/bidot/thumb_aaa.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1278107216301405605.post-4906681036211721372</id><published>2007-03-12T19:16:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-03-12T19:22:42.468+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Blast</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Drained. Empty. Helpless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't seem to get things together.&lt;br /&gt;I hate the fact that I can't get rid of this latest addiction I've involved myself.&lt;br /&gt;I worry too much I can't sleep.&lt;br /&gt;Emotional anxieties are starting to drive me insane!&lt;br /&gt;And so these sleepless nights have made it so hard for me to bear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somehow, I'd get myself killed over this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remember the time you said you'd be there for me. That you were willing to help?&lt;br /&gt;Well, I've been waiting.&lt;br /&gt;Where are you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's what make promises political. It can take the faith and trust in you, either build you or just burn it to crisp. Get my drift?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1278107216301405605-4906681036211721372?l=hatelifebuthavetoliveit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hatelifebuthavetoliveit.blogspot.com/feeds/4906681036211721372/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1278107216301405605&amp;postID=4906681036211721372' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1278107216301405605/posts/default/4906681036211721372'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1278107216301405605/posts/default/4906681036211721372'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hatelifebuthavetoliveit.blogspot.com/2007/03/blast.html' title='Blast'/><author><name>Deesee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12545807318683521634</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y298/bidot/thumb_aaa.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1278107216301405605.post-2141548981472299933</id><published>2007-03-05T19:44:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-03-05T19:52:21.171+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Letting Go</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" &gt;It's hard to let go of something you've grown to care for.&lt;br /&gt;I feel for those who are experiencing this. The pain and sorrow.&lt;br /&gt;The questions that come to mind as to why must we let go of something we hold so dear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it's sadder, to know that you have to let go of something that you didn't own in the first place.&lt;br /&gt;You persist on trying to get it back, but to your dismay, the gods are against you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's what you may think, when actually, God is simply helping you get that person/thing out of your system because it's not an essential part for your growth. No matter how we try to reason out, reality, truth hits us. Hard.&lt;br /&gt;Why try to pursue something you know you can't have?&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/1278107216301405605-2141548981472299933?l=hatelifebuthavetoliveit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hatelifebuthavetoliveit.blogspot.com/feeds/2141548981472299933/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1278107216301405605&amp;postID=2141548981472299933' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1278107216301405605/posts/default/2141548981472299933'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1278107216301405605/posts/default/2141548981472299933'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hatelifebuthavetoliveit.blogspot.com/2007/03/letting-go.html' title='Letting Go'/><author><name>Deesee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12545807318683521634</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y298/bidot/thumb_aaa.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1278107216301405605.post-3017394513267121089</id><published>2007-03-02T22:16:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-03-02T22:25:19.885+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Experiment</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;color:#000000;"&gt;Just wanted to see how everything would look in Beta.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;color:#000000;"&gt;Not bad.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;color:#000000;"&gt;Changed my background song, so I could get into the mood of writing and stuff.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;color:#000000;"&gt;There's something about music that makes me do things better.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;color:#000000;"&gt;Life's like music, the melody is the life given to us, and like the lyrics, we crap it up with how we live it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;color:#000000;"&gt;We make simple things too complicated.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;color:#000000;"&gt;That's why most of us feel crappy. Or wait, make Me feel crappy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1278107216301405605-3017394513267121089?l=hatelifebuthavetoliveit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hatelifebuthavetoliveit.blogspot.com/feeds/3017394513267121089/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1278107216301405605&amp;postID=3017394513267121089' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1278107216301405605/posts/default/3017394513267121089'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1278107216301405605/posts/default/3017394513267121089'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hatelifebuthavetoliveit.blogspot.com/2007/03/experiment.html' title='Experiment'/><author><name>Deesee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12545807318683521634</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y298/bidot/thumb_aaa.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1278107216301405605.post-139647000512422461</id><published>2007-02-27T20:19:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-03-02T22:04:12.896+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Blags</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(51,51,51);font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt;The hardest thing about being the comforter type of friend, is that you can't seem to share any of your problems to that person who's seeking comfort. You keep on thinking that if I tell her/him my problem, madadagdagan ko lang yung mga iniisip nya.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(51,51,51);font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt;And so, I end up keeping things to myself. It's an overwhelming feeling to know and see that you've made an impact on those people who needs help. That's why you can't seem to be seen as someone who's weak and vulnerable just as what they've gone through and felt.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(51,51,51);font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt;I can't be rendered weak.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(51,51,51);font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt;Some people are really frustrating. Alam ko you've all met a few. Yung mga tipong nagpapatulong pero when you give them advice and what-nots eh binabalewala lang nila. Saying that it's wrong and insisting that they're right. That's what I hate about immaturity and pride. Makikitid ang utak.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hayy. How sad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm the lone wolf. Though I have a pack I often go along with, I'd rather hunt and travel the vast lands by myself.&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/1278107216301405605-139647000512422461?l=hatelifebuthavetoliveit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hatelifebuthavetoliveit.blogspot.com/feeds/139647000512422461/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1278107216301405605&amp;postID=139647000512422461' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1278107216301405605/posts/default/139647000512422461'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1278107216301405605/posts/default/139647000512422461'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hatelifebuthavetoliveit.blogspot.com/2007/02/hardest-thing-about-being-comforter.html' title='Blags'/><author><name>Deesee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12545807318683521634</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y298/bidot/thumb_aaa.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1278107216301405605.post-772276494595163156</id><published>2007-02-16T21:37:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-03-02T22:03:46.548+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hey</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(51,51,51);font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I'm no saint.&lt;br /&gt;As of the moment, I'm involved with two special people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't say that I'm emotionally that into them, and somehow, I've stupidly made myself too attached to them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in short, I have two girlfriends.&lt;br /&gt;The other one's my ex and the other one's that girl I talked about here who threatened me about killing herself if I leave her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm troubled, but not about them. I'm troubled with life.&lt;br /&gt;I'm going under this damned teenage crisis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1278107216301405605-772276494595163156?l=hatelifebuthavetoliveit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hatelifebuthavetoliveit.blogspot.com/feeds/772276494595163156/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1278107216301405605&amp;postID=772276494595163156' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1278107216301405605/posts/default/772276494595163156'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1278107216301405605/posts/default/772276494595163156'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hatelifebuthavetoliveit.blogspot.com/2007/02/im-no-saint.html' title='Hey'/><author><name>Deesee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12545807318683521634</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y298/bidot/thumb_aaa.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1278107216301405605.post-8481019104356435654</id><published>2007-02-09T21:22:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-03-02T22:03:30.015+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Warning</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;Just because you are already with someone doesn't give you the right NOT to fall for someone else.&lt;br /&gt;It's inevitable to have feelings for another while being in another commitment.&lt;br /&gt;But be sure that whatever feelings you have for both persons, you're already aware which weighs more.&lt;br /&gt;And don't stay in a relationship just because of sympathy or that you promised something to that person.&lt;br /&gt;It'll hurt her/him more, if the only reason why you're with her/him is because of that promise and not of thatemotion she's/he's been expecting from you.&lt;br /&gt;If you don't want to end up in this kind of situation, don't be in a romantic relationship just for the sake of having someone to call baby.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;*end*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1278107216301405605-8481019104356435654?l=hatelifebuthavetoliveit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hatelifebuthavetoliveit.blogspot.com/feeds/8481019104356435654/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1278107216301405605&amp;postID=8481019104356435654' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1278107216301405605/posts/default/8481019104356435654'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1278107216301405605/posts/default/8481019104356435654'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hatelifebuthavetoliveit.blogspot.com/2007/02/just-because-you-are-already-with.html' title='Warning'/><author><name>Deesee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12545807318683521634</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y298/bidot/thumb_aaa.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1278107216301405605.post-2969191707204074368</id><published>2007-02-04T00:38:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-03-02T22:03:04.427+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Out of tune</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(51,51,51);font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt;I'm a narc.&lt;br /&gt;I'm sure most of you out there are too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As of the moment, I'm in a drinking spree with some of my buddies.&lt;br /&gt;A bit dizzybut I can still manage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I must admit I need proper guidance and all that crap so I can make my life a bit better.&lt;br /&gt;I need help. Professional maybe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About that narc thing, well I don't like having a beer gut. A big no-no for me. I only drink on ocassions so as to avoid having all those gross effects of alcohol. Right now I tell you, if you slap me, I won't budge. I've become numb. If only I was this numb for me not to feel anything from anyone. If only.&lt;br /&gt;But then again, if I was this numb, I would've just let things pass. I would've just let you slap me a million times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately, I don't end up so fuckin drunk. I still have some little control over myself. I don't show people that I'm actually affected with the alcohol.&lt;br /&gt;That's just likely of me. Pretentious. Like I said, I have this wall built up. And with the way I was raised, it's a no-brainer on why I ended up like this. I feel like shit, day by day, I try so hard to not let anybody see the vulnerable me. Day by day, I keep a strong face, a strong attitude, hiding what's been suffering for all this time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really can't just talk to anyone and expect that they'd understand me.&lt;br /&gt;This feeling of helplessness is inevitable.&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/1278107216301405605-2969191707204074368?l=hatelifebuthavetoliveit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hatelifebuthavetoliveit.blogspot.com/feeds/2969191707204074368/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1278107216301405605&amp;postID=2969191707204074368' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1278107216301405605/posts/default/2969191707204074368'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1278107216301405605/posts/default/2969191707204074368'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hatelifebuthavetoliveit.blogspot.com/2007/02/im-narc.html' title='Out of tune'/><author><name>Deesee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12545807318683521634</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y298/bidot/thumb_aaa.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1278107216301405605.post-4457046941130982834</id><published>2007-01-31T19:05:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-03-02T22:02:49.702+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dung</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;I am truly irresponsible. I wasn't able to comply with what the higher people at the office asked me to do. I'm in a total slump.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;It amazes me how it doesn't seem this way on the outside. I've indeed mastered the different masks of emotion.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;It puts a smile on my face to know that even people online seem to care about little things in life. Thank you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;To &lt;strong&gt;Ate Gladys&lt;/strong&gt;, having a virtual ate would be fun.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tina&lt;/strong&gt; and &lt;strong&gt;Lin&lt;/strong&gt;, thanks, highly appreciated. :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Iskoo&lt;/strong&gt;, nakisama lang yung weather, it so happened na it's raining here. :P&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;Hayy, my brother's stupid girlfriend made things between me and my brother yet again complicated. How in the world would I have known that she was still gonna say anything else after saying "ah ok"? I just don't know what that witch told my brother that he seemed so upset. It really doesn't matter if my brother's mad at me for something I did WRONG. Pero, to think, girlfriend nya lang yun. That gold digger bitch has no right to make ek-ek reklamo about me. Heck, if my "family" can't change me, sino siya para umepal. This is the second time she did something so wretched. Although, my brother and her deserve each other, they're both stupid.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;*end*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1278107216301405605-4457046941130982834?l=hatelifebuthavetoliveit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hatelifebuthavetoliveit.blogspot.com/feeds/4457046941130982834/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1278107216301405605&amp;postID=4457046941130982834' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1278107216301405605/posts/default/4457046941130982834'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1278107216301405605/posts/default/4457046941130982834'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hatelifebuthavetoliveit.blogspot.com/2007/01/i-am-truly-irresponsible.html' title='Dung'/><author><name>Deesee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12545807318683521634</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y298/bidot/thumb_aaa.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1278107216301405605.post-7310869024858729297</id><published>2007-01-29T15:06:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-03-02T22:02:30.042+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Emptiness</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(51,51,51);font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt;For the past few days, I've been feeling totally out of it. Disappointed with my mom, as well as with my brother. My mind's too preoccupied with a lot of things mostly about school and shit. Then this happens. Depression has hit me again. I silently kept every blow to myself. I never talked about it, to anyone. I like to be left alone. And even if I do know a lot of people, I just can't seem to open up to them. They wouldn't understand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because I know too well what they would say. I'm the listener and the comforter, yet in times of this shitty feeling, slowly eating me up, nobody is there to comfort and listen to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The wall I thought was gone was still standing all along. There were just holes, to which why I became acquainted with so many people. This wall has reaped thoughts of withdrawal in crowds, rejection, loneliness. It had made me think that even if there were people out there who could actually listen to me, it doesn't mean they can actually help me. They can't make my brother change, they can't tell my mom that what she's always saying gradually hurts me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With this pain, I struggle at night. Little by little, the pain seeps through my veins. Killing me ever so softly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No matter how I look at it, I am a lone wolf. And I'll always be alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The wounds on my hand doesn't come close to the pain in my heart. How I wish I could've just torn that wall apart.&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/1278107216301405605-7310869024858729297?l=hatelifebuthavetoliveit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hatelifebuthavetoliveit.blogspot.com/feeds/7310869024858729297/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1278107216301405605&amp;postID=7310869024858729297' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1278107216301405605/posts/default/7310869024858729297'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1278107216301405605/posts/default/7310869024858729297'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hatelifebuthavetoliveit.blogspot.com/2007/01/for-past-few-days-ive-been-feeling.html' title='Emptiness'/><author><name>Deesee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12545807318683521634</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y298/bidot/thumb_aaa.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1278107216301405605.post-6899547805307404791</id><published>2007-01-19T23:25:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-03-02T22:02:03.687+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Rats</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(51,51,51);font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt;Let me tell you a story, of a girl I've know my entire life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was this girl who lived her life, as a kid, filled with joy and such naivity. Ever since she attended school, she knew already who she was and what she was meant to become. She was rowdy, played with the boys who constantly teased her of her appearance and how she acted. She chased and had beaten the crap out of them.&lt;br /&gt;Growing up, she amused the young and the old alike with her talent in dancing and other funny antics. She was a kid. And being as cute as she was, it wasn't that hard to get away with her mischievious habits. She had tons of friends. Scared of the unknown. Hated dressing up like a girl. Spoiled by her father.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As an adolescent, she was caught in the middle of wanting to be by herself, to contemplate and to be with her friends. She had issues which she kept to herself. Never had she shown weakness. Still, she wanted to do something that would actually make her friends pansin what she was doing. She wanted sympathy but didn't want it to look like she intended to. Though to her friends, she seemed so lively yet so moody. Never had she shared anything, she didn't want to be attached to anyone.&lt;br /&gt;(Traumatized by what happened to her as a kid. Because of her being so controlling, she had the person she considered as her best friend.)&lt;br /&gt;So she handled things on her own, emotional or not, she found ways without ever talking about it to anyone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While practicing for graduation, the school chaplain had said something eye-opening. He had said, "this girl here is someone who definitely can do anything." She was in fact multi-talented. She was far more mature in thinking than those in her batch. She could dance,very poetic, artistic, athletic, intellectual and competitive. Both introvert and extrovert. Truly, she believed she can in fact do anything she sets her mind&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I find her deeply troubled, even though she doesn't show it. I want to help her out but I can sense that she doesn't want anyone to. She believes she knows what she has to do. She believes she knows every solution to any problem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This will be continued.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(For questions about her, ask away)&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/1278107216301405605-6899547805307404791?l=hatelifebuthavetoliveit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hatelifebuthavetoliveit.blogspot.com/feeds/6899547805307404791/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1278107216301405605&amp;postID=6899547805307404791' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1278107216301405605/posts/default/6899547805307404791'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1278107216301405605/posts/default/6899547805307404791'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hatelifebuthavetoliveit.blogspot.com/2007/01/let-me-tell-you-story-of-girl-ive-know.html' title='Rats'/><author><name>Deesee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12545807318683521634</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y298/bidot/thumb_aaa.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1278107216301405605.post-4110857454154572018</id><published>2007-01-18T17:31:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-01-18T17:59:48.800+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Beta</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(51, 51, 51);font-size:100%;" &gt;I was trying out this Blogger Beta feature, and knowing the turtle-paced connection I kinda panicked since I found it so damn hard to put things back to where it was.&lt;br /&gt;So, this blog here transformed for just a few minutes. Hehe.&lt;br /&gt;Though if I get the chance to go online, I'll make sure I'll be able to fix everything, and yes I'll soon be switching to Beta. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've already lost interest in that koreanovela I've been talking about. Since di na rin naman sinusubaybayan ng crush ko yun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Been waking up early, more than the usual since I've gotten myself involved in this working bit. But all I do there is actually sit in front of a computer (without anyone supervising) and basically just slack off. Pretty neat eh? Wala namang bayad so I know why they're not that tight with everything. Though they do give me free food for lunch and merienda.&lt;br /&gt;I found myself eating fish with them every lunch, since I became too conscious about what I eat. Rice will do me no good in the long run. So I opted for fish :P.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recently, I was supposed to present something. Something we were asked to make and talk about it with them. ALthough, before I could even open my mouth, the paniki who was one of the "judges" blocked me off. And patuloy syang nagsalita, checking on my presentation and had changed my whole concept. When in fact, I had another thing in mind. How I wish that paniki would rot in hell. I'm happy na patuloy siyang sinusundan ng kharma. Amen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ako yung tipong grabe mag-isip, whatever the situation or topic is about. I tend to look more on the negative side, a pessimist. I calculate every move or reaction that would come out if I make this or that. I relate everything to chess. Thinking before acting. And often, I find myself just staring at a person or in space. Nakatanga. That's what people would refer to what I'm doing, when in fact I'm actually contemplating on what is happening. I think of evil things to happen, those fantasy-like scenarios, the school crashing down and a robot would come out of nowhere. Just like from Dual (an AXN featured Anime series). I talk to a lot of people in my mind. I don't have a multiply personality, or wait.. maybe I do. Anyway, I find myself in a conversation with myself. And I end up being shouted at or shouting at someone from the back of my mind. Sigh.  It's great I got to let this out.&lt;br /&gt;Writing is indeed therapeutic. For those who are like me, who tend to keep things to themselves rather than just talk about it. I am in fact, at one with my duality in reality.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good Day! :)&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/1278107216301405605-4110857454154572018?l=hatelifebuthavetoliveit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hatelifebuthavetoliveit.blogspot.com/feeds/4110857454154572018/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1278107216301405605&amp;postID=4110857454154572018' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1278107216301405605/posts/default/4110857454154572018'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1278107216301405605/posts/default/4110857454154572018'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hatelifebuthavetoliveit.blogspot.com/2007/01/beta.html' title='Beta'/><author><name>Deesee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12545807318683521634</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y298/bidot/thumb_aaa.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1278107216301405605.post-2852177283980582313</id><published>2007-01-16T20:45:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-01-16T21:17:37.902+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Conformity</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;Conformity, is the degree to which members of a group will change their behavior, views and attitudes to fit the views of the group. The group can influence members via unconscious processes or via overt social pressure on individuals.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;With this, you now know what reason other people have on to why they have chosen the kind of lifestyle they have now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;They follow the trend, they look up on those totally iconic and soon act the way their idols act. Mimicking.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1278107216301405605-2852177283980582313?l=hatelifebuthavetoliveit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hatelifebuthavetoliveit.blogspot.com/feeds/2852177283980582313/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1278107216301405605&amp;postID=2852177283980582313' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1278107216301405605/posts/default/2852177283980582313'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1278107216301405605/posts/default/2852177283980582313'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hatelifebuthavetoliveit.blogspot.com/2007/01/conformity.html' title='Conformity'/><author><name>Deesee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12545807318683521634</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y298/bidot/thumb_aaa.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1278107216301405605.post-1276842667081658694</id><published>2007-01-09T16:58:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-03-02T22:01:30.039+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Random</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I'm not really that big of a fan for Princess Hours, but I found it hard to disagree to what my friend said last night. She ranting about how cruel ABS-CBN was.So, as tsismoso that I was, I asked her kung ano ba yung pinoproblema niya. It turned out that she too, was waiting for that koreanovela and that she was forced to watch every damned soap opera on ABS-CBN just so matimingan nya yung Princess Hours na segment. It was funny how she talked about it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;How ABS-CBN lacked Time Management.And to this, I totally agreed. They really do have some issues with how they manage each segments' limit. Uncanny, but still nakakapagpabagabag. On how, they make you watch all the local shows and for that foreign novela? A measly 25 minutes of airtime, whereas in the original episode it was supposed to be 45 minutes.So I just told her that she might as well just watch it on YouTube or better yet buy a copy of it's dvd. Para bawas the hassle of exerting effort to wait for that stupid show on ABS-CBN.How I wish there would be another stampede para mawala muna yung shows sa TV. Herd stampede that is. Hehe.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I was browsing through some other blogs and read A LOT about them not having any list for the said New Year's Resolution. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;It's quite funny and very yummy to mock on how they want to seem as people who don't want to be stuck on following something. When in fact, they're more likely to be stuck on waiting for the old them to leave. They need a lightbulb above their head before they can experience change.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Change.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Only if you're eager enough to do it. It's for the better.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1278107216301405605-1276842667081658694?l=hatelifebuthavetoliveit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hatelifebuthavetoliveit.blogspot.com/feeds/1276842667081658694/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1278107216301405605&amp;postID=1276842667081658694' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1278107216301405605/posts/default/1276842667081658694'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1278107216301405605/posts/default/1276842667081658694'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hatelifebuthavetoliveit.blogspot.com/2007/01/im-not-really-that-big-of-fan-for.html' title='Random'/><author><name>Deesee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12545807318683521634</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y298/bidot/thumb_aaa.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1278107216301405605.post-4764643718825721395</id><published>2007-01-03T21:23:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-01-03T21:37:16.708+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Holy smokes!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;So it's a brand new year. It doesn't mean I'll instantly change from being a sarcastic jerk to someone who's like an angel. This year, I won't be promising anything but to be more lenient with everything around me. Away with procrastination and in with the drive to do things as fast as I can. It really is not a good idea to put off for tomorrow what you can actually do today.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;I'm not really the type who watches telenovelas, or other novelas there are on the boob tube. I've constantly mocked and criticized every tv series the Filipino entertainment industry comes up with. The new actors are so lame. Why make a tv series where the actors involved can't even do their jobs right, ACT. Koreanovelas, tsinovelas, japanovelas?, or whatever else novelas are now seen in every Filipino channel. I hardly watch any of this. But recently, I got hooked on this koreanovela wherein there was this prince who was arranged to be married to a commoner girl and another two characters who spice up the love quadrangle. It wasn't because of the sudden interest, but because my crush was so crazy about this. So I ended up watching it too since she wouldn't stop raving about how good looking the characters were. Yeah, just as what my friend had said, Love can move mountains but in my case, Love can make someone watch a koreanovela even if it's ultra super duper corny.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;It's not too late yet to greet everyone right? so a very &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Happy Boinky New Year&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; to all!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;Hell school's started!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;Everyone back on their asses!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1278107216301405605-4764643718825721395?l=hatelifebuthavetoliveit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hatelifebuthavetoliveit.blogspot.com/feeds/4764643718825721395/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1278107216301405605&amp;postID=4764643718825721395' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1278107216301405605/posts/default/4764643718825721395'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1278107216301405605/posts/default/4764643718825721395'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hatelifebuthavetoliveit.blogspot.com/2007/01/holy-smokes.html' title='Holy smokes!'/><author><name>Deesee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12545807318683521634</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y298/bidot/thumb_aaa.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1278107216301405605.post-8669354295860434671</id><published>2006-12-24T15:39:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-03-02T22:00:38.067+08:00</updated><title type='text'>crappy</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#333333;"&gt;I'm not enjoying the holiday season. Too much traffic, too many palaboy in the streets, and too many annoying people asking for gifts.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#333333;"&gt;Yesterday, I was at CD-R King. Looking for a mumurahing mp3 player to give to my cousin. While waiting, there was this guy who was being attended by the saleslady person. He had this mp4 in his hand and was asking about headphones. He pointed at this headphone, it was big, it had two plugs. The lady said that pangit tingnan kung ganun gagamitin niya, para siyang yung tulad sa mga camera crew sa Wowowee. It was clear he wanted those with big earmuffs. And being in a Computer shop, it was so hard not to make pansin what he was asking. Bakit raw dalawa yung plug, ano raw kaibahan nun sa ibang headphone. The guy really ticked me off.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#333333;"&gt;Grabe, he had no common sense or whatever to understand that he was in a COMPUTER SHOP and obviously it had two plugs because it was for a computer or anything that needs a microphone. I mean, ok lang sana if he doesn't have any clue about computers that he'd be asking about it, pero to think na he has an mp4 in his hand. Surely, with that kind of technology in his hand, he should know already what's the difference between an mp4/mp3 headset and a computer headphone. He had this stupid annoying face too, this makes dagdag to my headache.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#333333;"&gt;Oh, I've finished the 9 mormings. Happy happy happy, joy joy joy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#333333;"&gt;Some says Christmas is for the kids only, some even said that it's only a state of mind.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#333333;"&gt;I might agree with both but for me, Christmas is a time for reflection. It is now, that we have that super duper free time to think things over. What we should be thankful for and make amends to whomever we had hurt. Not getting what you want this Christmas doesn't mean nobody loves you, remember that you are blessed with so much that God wants you to stop what you're doing for a while and find the means to be thankful and mindful enough of what you have.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#333333;"&gt;Happy Holidays!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1278107216301405605-8669354295860434671?l=hatelifebuthavetoliveit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hatelifebuthavetoliveit.blogspot.com/feeds/8669354295860434671/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1278107216301405605&amp;postID=8669354295860434671' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1278107216301405605/posts/default/8669354295860434671'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1278107216301405605/posts/default/8669354295860434671'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hatelifebuthavetoliveit.blogspot.com/2006/12/im-not-enjoying-holiday-season.html' title='crappy'/><author><name>Deesee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12545807318683521634</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y298/bidot/thumb_aaa.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1278107216301405605.post-7668271550195359064</id><published>2006-12-21T22:22:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-12-21T22:39:14.715+08:00</updated><title type='text'>film industry</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;They say we should support our film industry. Well I would, IF and only IF they'd stop dubbing every single local movie. I hate watching and hearing actors deliver lines na di naman nagtutugma sa mga galaw nila. I hate how romantic films are now so over-rated. I hate how the directors keep saying that they've given this and that kind of effect on each scenes where in fact the finished product looks like crap. I hate how they keep saying they hired the best make-up team when the actors in the movie look like fuckin barbie dolls. And the guys, parang kakakain lang ng lechon. Nasobrahan yung lip gloss. I hate how they keep on coming up with talent searches, make every single aspiring filipinos line up only to realize they're not fit for that search since may mga reserved people na pala sa slots na yun. I hate how every management keeps on making pasikat some of the new actors/actresses who has NO talent or whatsoever. All they do is make faces just so they could look "cute" on the idiot box. I hate how REALITY shows are super duper sooo Over-Rated. I'm not even fuckin sure that TV Patrol isn't part of those programs with strings attached. I hate how we keep copying foreign segments and put in some "twists" kuno in the show when we all know it's just fuckin the same! Crap!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;And they say keep the Film Industry alive. That's so fuckin full of crap! They can't even produce a decent movie. Oh, those telenovelas are even worse! Why not just replace those shows with animated shows, para naman di na nakakasakit sa mata yung mga aktor na paulit-ulit na lang lumalabas sa mga soap operas na yan.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;The only good thing about the entertainment industry is music. And those artists/bands who has been given the chance to show their stuff. How I wish actors/actresses wouldn't try so goddamn hard to fit in in this industry, hell they might sink the ship by just stepping on it. They should know where they belong, for the good of the whole human race.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1278107216301405605-7668271550195359064?l=hatelifebuthavetoliveit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hatelifebuthavetoliveit.blogspot.com/feeds/7668271550195359064/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1278107216301405605&amp;postID=7668271550195359064' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1278107216301405605/posts/default/7668271550195359064'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1278107216301405605/posts/default/7668271550195359064'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hatelifebuthavetoliveit.blogspot.com/2006/12/film-industry.html' title='film industry'/><author><name>Deesee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12545807318683521634</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y298/bidot/thumb_aaa.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1278107216301405605.post-8297790272972490396</id><published>2006-12-20T19:40:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-03-02T21:59:58.068+08:00</updated><title type='text'>been there</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;During my feeling bagets days, you can see me at bars or any hotspot compounds. With people I barely know but got used to hang around with. I got gipit at those times, I sought out ways to earn money and made excuses so I could go out. Unfortunately I didn't really enjoy dancing at clubs or of some sorts. The drinks weren't all that great. I was in a crowded place that made me feel so empty. And so I've moved on, I referred to those days as a bata phase.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;I could say I've matured enough. I've made sure that I did things that could actually benefit me, or even produce something outof it that would make me feel a whole lot better.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;Hanging with smarter people does boost up your mind too. With all the witty puns being thrown at each other who wouldn't enjoy that moment.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;Lately, as I attend these morning masses, I had this feeling of enlightenment. It was as if I was home.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;Never in my life had I felt something like that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;It's overwhelming.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;Oh, yeah, I am of someone's alter-ego.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;At last, I have found a sanctuary for my other self. I am contented and happy with the way things are.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;It's things like this that makes life seem more complicated for others, but as for me, not really. I've handled too much emotional shits that I have come to take control of things.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1278107216301405605-8297790272972490396?l=hatelifebuthavetoliveit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hatelifebuthavetoliveit.blogspot.com/feeds/8297790272972490396/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1278107216301405605&amp;postID=8297790272972490396' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1278107216301405605/posts/default/8297790272972490396'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1278107216301405605/posts/default/8297790272972490396'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hatelifebuthavetoliveit.blogspot.com/2006/12/during-my-feeling-bagets-days-you-can.html' title='been there'/><author><name>Deesee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12545807318683521634</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y298/bidot/thumb_aaa.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1278107216301405605.post-2899024457538078153</id><published>2006-12-19T21:13:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-12-19T21:39:00.978+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;I am of someone's alter ego.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1278107216301405605-2899024457538078153?l=hatelifebuthavetoliveit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hatelifebuthavetoliveit.blogspot.com/feeds/2899024457538078153/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1278107216301405605&amp;postID=2899024457538078153' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1278107216301405605/posts/default/2899024457538078153'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1278107216301405605/posts/default/2899024457538078153'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hatelifebuthavetoliveit.blogspot.com/2006/12/i-am-of-someones-alter-ego.html' title=''/><author><name>Deesee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12545807318683521634</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y298/bidot/thumb_aaa.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1278107216301405605.post-7581629924388231976</id><published>2006-12-18T11:54:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-12-18T12:21:23.060+08:00</updated><title type='text'>simbang gabi</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#333333;"&gt;For the first time ever in history, I am about to complete the 9 mornings. Well, actually I didn't get to attend the morning or even the evening mass for like, two days now, so I'll be going to mass twice a day for two days to make bawi for the two days that has passed by.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#333333;"&gt;Kanina, at around 4:00 am, I went to the Carmelite Church. From where I live, it's pretty far unlike the Redemptorist Church. So, why in the world would I attend the mass there?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#333333;"&gt;I've been crushing over this friend of mine. I asked her last night if she wanted to go with me to attend an early morning mass. She said sabay na lang raw ako sa kanila ng family nya, and I made some lame excuse why I would also be joining them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#333333;"&gt;    -&gt;&gt; "Tamang tama, pupuntahan ko rin yung kaibigan ko na malapit lang din dun nakatira."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#333333;"&gt;Di naman niya napuna yung sinabi ko.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#333333;"&gt;So there, being all excited I rushed to getting myself ready and luckily got there on time, even though halos wala na akong makitang jeep na dumadaan sa sobrang aga.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#333333;"&gt;I got to share a few laughs with her mom. I like her mom, she easily gets my puns. But I like her more, hehe.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#333333;"&gt;After the mass, since malapit lang naman bahay nila, I accompanied them in walking towards the kanto. Made up another excuse na dun na lang rin ako sasakay banda. I just wanted to talk to her more. She said she didn't want to look at me because of some weird reason na natatawa raw siya. I guess there's this dirt on my face that won't even try to come off. Damn.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#333333;"&gt;On my way home, I had to walk since all jeepneys were full of passengers who just came to church.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#333333;"&gt;Long walk for me. I don't really mind as long as I have in fact enjoyed this day. Don't get me wrong though, I went to church for God, she, on the other hand, is my second reason.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#333333;"&gt;And for the days to come, I will be attending morning masses with her and her family.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#333333;"&gt;REALITY CHECK.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#333333;"&gt;I have a girlfriend.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#333333;"&gt;I'm ashamed to admit that my feelings are not that strong for her. And I can't just break up with her since she's one of those lunatic people who keeps threatning their partners on killing theirselves if ever they got dumped.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#333333;"&gt;Oh how stupid of me to not see that I have chosen the wrong girl.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#333333;"&gt;This new girl I just talked about, Chessa. She just made my heart skip a lot of beats ever since I laid my eyes on her. How I wish she knew.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1278107216301405605-7581629924388231976?l=hatelifebuthavetoliveit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hatelifebuthavetoliveit.blogspot.com/feeds/7581629924388231976/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1278107216301405605&amp;postID=7581629924388231976' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1278107216301405605/posts/default/7581629924388231976'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1278107216301405605/posts/default/7581629924388231976'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hatelifebuthavetoliveit.blogspot.com/2006/12/simbang-gabi.html' title='simbang gabi'/><author><name>Deesee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12545807318683521634</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y298/bidot/thumb_aaa.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1278107216301405605.post-4132246069126214647</id><published>2006-12-15T21:55:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-12-18T20:30:05.684+08:00</updated><title type='text'>emo punk NOT</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;color:#333333;"&gt;There are so many emo punk wannabes today. I see them left and right with their weird get-ups to their make-up that doesn't seem to match with their clothes. I hate how they stare at you like YOU're the alien. How I wish I could give them a piece of their mind, make them sure that their very presence are mere filth in MY world.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:130%;color:#333333;"&gt;I hate how they put on too much mascara, and their whole persona doesn't quite fit right in. Imagine seeing a guy with black as motiff of his get-up and make-up but then you see him jumping around, singing Simple Plan songs. Once I had this friend who I thought WAS cool. She knew everything about what to do to prepare beer drinks/mixes. When she started studying, she had new friends. She invited me one time to at her friend's house. They were drinking and smoking at 12 noon. Of course, knowing I had an exam that day I couldn't take one sip. No. Her friends were all in chucks, weird necktie, mismatched clothes. There was this other guy who had glasses like those of Fonzy and hair or Bruce Lee. The other guy was dressed to be a priest, (or so). Then few lovely girls. In my head, there was this word COOL, ASTIG, and HANEP running through. Not until, I heard the band I dreaded the most, SIMPLE PLAN, and the singer everyone's been trying to be which I also hate, Avril Lavigne. I wanted to laugh out so fuckin loud, but then in respect for my friend's choice of music, I simply sat at one corner looking at them, refusing profusely their tagay offers. From that moment on, I laugh at the face of weirdness and freakisness. They are not at all that suicidal nor solitary. They are merely people who want to fit in, where they want to be known as misunderstood, troubled and confused. Those happy, funliving characteristics are foreshadowed with the dark and mysterious exterior. You can see them, mostly teens all in groups, almost dressing alike. Beneath those heavy make-up and i-don't-want-to-talk-about-clothes, is a soul who's shouting out "HEY! LOOK AT ME, I'M BEING WEIRD, LOVE ME, UNDERSTAND ME!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:130%;color:#333333;"&gt;They don't need Professional help. They only need attention and guidance.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:130%;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:130%;color:#333333;"&gt;Still, I hate emo punk wannabes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:130%;color:#333333;"&gt;As well as those who THINK they can skate. They talk about it so much but when you get them to do a trick, Hell, even my dog can do better. They don't even know how a fuckin Ollie's supposed to be done.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:130%;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:130%;color:#333333;"&gt;These are all summed up in a six-letter word. POSERS!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:130%;color:#333333;"&gt;And I hate every fuckin one of them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1278107216301405605-4132246069126214647?l=hatelifebuthavetoliveit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hatelifebuthavetoliveit.blogspot.com/feeds/4132246069126214647/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1278107216301405605&amp;postID=4132246069126214647' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1278107216301405605/posts/default/4132246069126214647'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1278107216301405605/posts/default/4132246069126214647'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hatelifebuthavetoliveit.blogspot.com/2006/12/emo-punk-not.html' title='emo punk NOT'/><author><name>Deesee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12545807318683521634</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y298/bidot/thumb_aaa.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1278107216301405605.post-2924910584351810701</id><published>2006-12-14T18:04:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-12-14T18:25:43.828+08:00</updated><title type='text'>of sympathy and pain</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;I lied to my girlfriend when I told her about being sick and all. Without consenting any permission to go out, I did went out. Hanged out with friends. The good thing about her, she never gets mad. How I wish ganyan lahat ng babae. Not the type na nagseselos and everything. No matter how hard I tried to make her jealous wala pa rin. Tsk. I'm still thankful she's always there though ako ang nauunang mangasar sa kanya. I make bawi naman whenever I do cross the line nah.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;Fights are normal right? And after the said fight, ang ganda the feeling to just make-up and cuddle about it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;Jealousy, this leads to paranoia, selfishness and never-ending fights. Do you want to know why at some point where everything is just so sweet, your partner would suddenly mention someone of the opposite sex?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;He/she's just checking on how you would react, and if you DO care that much to react.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;And it's not embarassing for me to admit that I am the type who gets all jealous most of the time, but it does have advantages you know. All those who oppose this statement just place it in the comment box.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;All this talk reminds me of my x (12th) who I promised to wait for before. I did everything for her and as the light had shed it's rays on me, it made me realize that she hasn't done a single thing for me. Not one, just to get things back to the way it was. I know I have my own faults with the relationship we had but still, I am entitled to know what's keeping her from doing anything special. My mind is very inquisitive and if doesn't find answers it tends to conclude. I'm clueless.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;Whom do I love most?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;My x or the present?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;Sad to say but I'm still stuck on my past. My present is just someone to fill in this emptiness I've been feeling for the past 7 months after breaking up with my x.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;Funny how my x reacts on the testimonials my present has been giving me on my Friendster. Tsk. And I keep on thinking what should I rather do. I haven't totally trusted my present, after my previous commitment, I now have trust issues. I guess things will work out just fine after a very long while.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;I've to sort things out. Until then, I am happy and contented with the way things are going.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1278107216301405605-2924910584351810701?l=hatelifebuthavetoliveit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hatelifebuthavetoliveit.blogspot.com/feeds/2924910584351810701/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1278107216301405605&amp;postID=2924910584351810701' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1278107216301405605/posts/default/2924910584351810701'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1278107216301405605/posts/default/2924910584351810701'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hatelifebuthavetoliveit.blogspot.com/2006/12/of-sympathy-and-pain.html' title='of sympathy and pain'/><author><name>Deesee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12545807318683521634</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y298/bidot/thumb_aaa.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1278107216301405605.post-1239926179832187134</id><published>2006-12-13T17:09:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-12-13T18:07:34.537+08:00</updated><title type='text'>splat</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;I noticed something with the salon (parlor) I passed by a while ago. It had tons of Avril Lavigne posters. A funny thought came into my mind. Baka yung specialty nila is to make customers look like Avril Lavigne. Of course not exactly looking like her, heavens no. The hairstyle lang. Add up some wrist accessories, an out-of-this-wolrd necktie, chucks and a few dark eyeliners and voila, you have a factory na of Avril Lavigne look-alikes. Minus the face and the voice.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;I don't like Avril. I think she's so OA.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;Enough about talking about this emo-punk wannabe.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;What's up with people making a point na malalaman ng lahat na there's something wrong sa kanila?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;Here in the Blogosphere, you'll notice different kinds of people.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;Those who think they're weird, think they're cool, think they're that lovable, those who lie about who they really are trying to express their thoughts but is hiding under a fictitious information about themselves and those who think they're the philosopher everyone wants to be a friend of.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;Where do I fit in? Second to the last part.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;I am no saint. Nor am I claiming to be someone mentally and emotionally disturbed, I just find things na kapuna-puna which gives me a whole new insight about other things.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;I am at one with my duality.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;People who claim to be insane, freaks, weirdos or nuts are all papansin. They want to make a statement about theirselves but in their posts it doesn't show. Most blogs doesn't even have any content, therefore I demand to have those blogs pulled out, burned and forever forgotten from the Blogworld. What do you get from those anyway? Andaming mga pauso, which are so last season.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;They want to be known to be someone of any particular disorder, which of course for their own pleasure of being noticed out of the hundreds of thousands of bloggers here.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;I find them annoying.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;I applaud those bloggers who, even at their uttermost heartbreaking moment, still can produce posts which are insightful and ever enlightening. I loathe those wannabes, posers and of lower class form (in the manner of thinking).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;end&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1278107216301405605-1239926179832187134?l=hatelifebuthavetoliveit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hatelifebuthavetoliveit.blogspot.com/feeds/1239926179832187134/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1278107216301405605&amp;postID=1239926179832187134' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1278107216301405605/posts/default/1239926179832187134'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1278107216301405605/posts/default/1239926179832187134'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hatelifebuthavetoliveit.blogspot.com/2006/12/splat.html' title='splat'/><author><name>Deesee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12545807318683521634</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y298/bidot/thumb_aaa.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1278107216301405605.post-2298682329467977853</id><published>2006-12-10T16:27:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-12-10T18:06:16.456+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rant'/><title type='text'>crypt creatures</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#333333;"&gt;I hate it when girls make the first move. It disgusts me. I can't blame my friend for getting his affection diverted to someone of the lowest form. I know why he even chose her instead of the other who is much more fun, smart and totally pretty. It's because that CRYPT is so easy to get. I mean, my friend didn't have to make any effort to court her or anything, the CRYPT had already sorta made that for him.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#333333;"&gt;I know this sounds gay. I'm like bitching over whom my friend ended up with. I just can't help it. I never really liked that CRYPT in the first place. Just the sight of her makes my blood boil. The she speaks is also very very and i mean, very ANNOYING!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#333333;"&gt;The more you hate the more you love? Crap. If you could only see her, tsk, you'll know she hasn't summed up not even 1/10 or even near that fraction of my standards with girls. Rating her, 0 out of 10 (as 10 being the highest of course).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#333333;"&gt;I'll stop talking like crazy about her now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#333333;"&gt;Next.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#333333;"&gt;I am very much irritated and yet again disgusted with the people I see at the cafes. You know, the people who are just there to chat or talk to foreigners. Thinking they'll hook in some big fishes. And the yuckiest part are those women who does such degrading things. I'm cursing YM for having upgraded with that voice thing. Now, I can see AND hear their conversations. What else could be worse?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#333333;"&gt;And it's not that I'm peeking over the next table or what but I can't but to look at my "seatmate" shake, kinikilig siguro. This is one HUGE mistake na ginawa ng Yahoo! I am forever haunted by the thoughts of my katabi having kilig moments with her ka-chat.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#333333;"&gt;Next..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#333333;"&gt;I went with my mom to the mall kanina. Being a good anak has given me tons of headaches. My mom were sorting out panties and other underwear I just can't believe women wear nowadays. The salesladies are really annoying, tailing you like some kind of hound. Couldn't they just stand in one corner and just wait for the customers to call for them? Parang everytime they see a customer they think na may gagawing masama yung tao that's why they make buntot to them. Buti pa at the grocery, no lady in uniform would follow you as you pili the things na bibilhin mo. At ang pinaka ayaw ko sa lahat eh those salesladies who makes faces na you-can't-afford-to-buy-that-why-are-you-touching-that look. Makes me so gigil I want to reklamo to the management about it. Problema lang eh, I'd be dealing with every single store here in Davao. And that would be total hassle. Sayang lang time ko, buti na lang I'm still thinking of them having jobs, or else they wouldn't be working anywhere na.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#333333;"&gt;Next...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#333333;"&gt;Behind every bitch is a man who made her that way.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#333333;"&gt;I've read this from my friend's messages. I really am pakialamero with other people's phones. It doesn't bother them anyway since they know how boring y phone is. (To the max!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#333333;"&gt;To answer that phrase, these girls shouldn't let themselves be affected with players. Ang hirap kasi sa mga babae eh madaling naniniwala, hence, madali rin silang nauuuto ng mga syota nila. These bitches doesn't have any clue that sila pa rin ang lugi if they end up being so-called players too. Women has so much estrogen that even the dogs know they won't be "players" for so long.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#333333;"&gt;Know that, only a female dog is a bitch and the good thing about them is that you won't hear them complaining. (They'll only bite you)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1278107216301405605-2298682329467977853?l=hatelifebuthavetoliveit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hatelifebuthavetoliveit.blogspot.com/feeds/2298682329467977853/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1278107216301405605&amp;postID=2298682329467977853' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1278107216301405605/posts/default/2298682329467977853'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1278107216301405605/posts/default/2298682329467977853'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hatelifebuthavetoliveit.blogspot.com/2006/12/i-hate-it-when-girls-make-first-move.html' title='crypt creatures'/><author><name>Deesee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12545807318683521634</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y298/bidot/thumb_aaa.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1278107216301405605.post-4824552081423902958</id><published>2006-12-07T20:16:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-12-07T20:34:32.938+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='me'/><title type='text'>angsxiety</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;I would like to welcome you first to my blog. Everything's not in order since I'm not in the mood to fix my blog as of the moment.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;In this life, nothing is for free. You have to exert extra effort to get what you want. "The best things are free" is plain full of crap.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;Those so-called friends of yours will only be there only when they need/want something for you. Nobody is really that "honest" nowadays. Life is really full of crap but I have to live it, I've always thought about ending my life right here and now. But then, I think about my mom. Even though how much she scolds me, I still think about her and what I'm going to do with the money I'll be earning someday soon for her. And as I think about even doing it, I'd be letting everyone down and even myself for having totally given up on this rat-race.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;My brother is a total mess. He only thinks about himself. Getting new things, being "in" and his stupid girlfriend. I really don't like his girlfriend. Whenever I think or even see her, the song "gold digger" suddenly pops in my mind.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;I'm in a mess. I'm not perfect, and I'm not trying to be one. I just want to live my life the wat I should be living it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;I am strong on the outside. I live by a certain rule of not showing weakness in public. I cannot afford to lose myself, my reputation... my stature.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1278107216301405605-4824552081423902958?l=hatelifebuthavetoliveit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hatelifebuthavetoliveit.blogspot.com/feeds/4824552081423902958/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1278107216301405605&amp;postID=4824552081423902958' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1278107216301405605/posts/default/4824552081423902958'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1278107216301405605/posts/default/4824552081423902958'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hatelifebuthavetoliveit.blogspot.com/2006/12/angsxiety.html' title='angsxiety'/><author><name>Deesee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12545807318683521634</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y298/bidot/thumb_aaa.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
