<?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-7340911</id><updated>2011-04-21T17:31:40.549-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Heartless Afternoons</title><subtitle type='html'>collection of artiks,songs,poems that touched my heart...lalalalala</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mitzch.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7340911/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mitzch.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>MitZch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04700292077681375250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://www.pimpyopage.com/8-24-03-Unique-Image160.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>26</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7340911.post-110898494186848256</id><published>2005-02-21T03:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-21T03:22:21.970-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Thy Love Story...</title><content type='html'>&lt;table id="HB_Mail_Container" height="100%" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="100%" border="0" unselectable="on"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr height="100%" width="100%" unselectable="on"&gt;&lt;td id="HB_Focus_Element" valign="top" width="100%" background="" height="250" unselectable="off"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;Imagine God lining up ten men in front of you. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;He then looks at you and says "Child, pick one to be your husband!"       &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;Wow! This excites you! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;You begin to choose. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;Hmm... you notice some of the men are your old "friends" and acquaintances. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;Interesting.       &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;At the back, there's a Brad Pitt look-alike. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;Cool! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;Another one looks like Jerry Yan. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;Wait... it is Jerry Yan!      &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;Grabe!       &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;The strangers at the side don't look too bad either.        &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;Pwede na rin.       &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;You take a deep breath and ponder who to choose. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;Everyone is waiting for you.       &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;But you stop. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;Fall flat on your face before God and say &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;"God, you know me better than I know myself..... You pick!"       &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;You then let God write your love story.....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr hb_tag="1" unselectable="on"&gt;&lt;td style="FONT-SIZE: 1pt" height="1" unselectable="on"&gt;&lt;div id="hotbar_promo"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7340911-110898494186848256?l=mitzch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mitzch.blogspot.com/feeds/110898494186848256/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7340911&amp;postID=110898494186848256' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7340911/posts/default/110898494186848256'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7340911/posts/default/110898494186848256'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mitzch.blogspot.com/2005/02/thy-love-story.html' title='Thy Love Story...'/><author><name>MitZch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04700292077681375250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://www.pimpyopage.com/8-24-03-Unique-Image160.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7340911.post-109954575238753960</id><published>2004-11-03T21:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-03T21:22:32.386-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Closing Cycles By Paolo Coelho</title><content type='html'>&lt;table id="HB_Mail_Container" height="100%" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="100%" border="0" unselectable="on"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr height="100%" unselectable="on" width="100%"&gt;&lt;td id="HB_Focus_Element" valign="top" width="100%" background="" height="250" unselectable="off"&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;One always has to know when a stage comes to an end.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;If we insist on staying longer than the necessary time, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;we lose the happiness and the meaning of the other stages we have to go through. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Closing cycles,shutting doors, ending chapters - whatever name we give it, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;what matters is to leave in the past the moments of life that have finished.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Did you lose your job? Has a loving relationship come to an end? Did you leave your parents' house?Gone to live abroad? Has a long-lasting friendship ended all of a sudden? You can spend a long time wondering why this has happened. You can tell yourself you won't take another step until you find out why certain things that were so important and so solid in your life have turned into dust, just like that. But such an attitude will be awfully stressing for everyone involved: your parents, your husband or wife, your friends, your children, your sister, everyone will be finishing chapters, turning over new leaves, getting on with life, and they will all feel bad seeing you at a standstill.  None of us can be in the present and the past at the same time, not even when we try to undderstand the things that happen to us. What has passed will not return: we cannot for ever be children, late adolescents, sons that feel guilt or rancor towards our parents, lovers who day and night relive an affair with someone who has gone away and has not the least intention of coming back. Things pass, and  the best we can do is to let them really go away.That is why it is so important (however painful it may be!) to destroy    souvenirs, move, give lots of things away to orphanages, sell or donate the books you have at home.  Everything in this visible world is a manifestation of the invisible world, of what is going on in our hearts - and getting rid of certain memories also means making some room for other memories to take their place. Let things go. Release them. Detach yourself from them. Nobody plays this life with marked cards, so sometimes we win and sometimes we lose. Do not expect anything in return, do not expect your efforts to be appreciated, your genius to be discovered, your love to be understood. Stop turning on your emotional television to watch the same program over and over again, the one that shows how much you  suffered from a certain loss: that is only poisoning you, nothing else.  Nothing is more dangerous than not accepting love relationships that are broken off, work that is promised but there is no starting date, decisions that are always put off waiting for the "ideal moment." Before a new     chapter is begun, the old one has to be finished: tell yourself that what has passed will never come back. Remember that there was a time when you could live without that thing or that person - nothing is irreplaceable, a habit is not a need. This may sound so obvious, it may even be difficult, but it is very important. Closing cycles. Not because of pride, incapacity or arrogance, but simply because that no longer fits your life.  Shut the door, change the record, clean the house,shake off the dust. Stop being who you were, and change into who you are.  "Love is a commitment of the heart that will stand the test of wavering emotions, intellectual rationalizing, circumstantial allure, hormonal infatuation, and even the wounds of your lover.Anything less is not true love."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr unselectable="on" hb_tag="1"&gt;&lt;td style="FONT-SIZE: 1pt" height="1" unselectable="on"&gt;&lt;div id="hotbar_promo"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7340911-109954575238753960?l=mitzch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mitzch.blogspot.com/feeds/109954575238753960/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7340911&amp;postID=109954575238753960' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7340911/posts/default/109954575238753960'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7340911/posts/default/109954575238753960'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mitzch.blogspot.com/2004/11/closing-cycles-by-paolo-coelho.html' title='Closing Cycles By Paolo Coelho'/><author><name>MitZch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04700292077681375250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://www.pimpyopage.com/8-24-03-Unique-Image160.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7340911.post-109765630811466661</id><published>2004-10-13T01:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-13T01:31:48.113-07:00</updated><title type='text'>did YOU know? (from frenster)</title><content type='html'>&lt;table id="HB_Mail_Container" height="100%" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="100%" border="0" unselectable="on"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr height="100%" unselectable="on" width="100%"&gt;&lt;td id="HB_Focus_Element" valign="top" width="100%" background="" height="250" unselectable="off"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Did you know that when you envy someone, it's because you really like that person?&lt;br /&gt;Did you know that those who appear to be very strong in heart, are real weak and most susceptible?&lt;br /&gt;Did you know that those who spend their time protecting others are the ones that really need some one to protect them?&lt;br /&gt;Did you know that the three most difficult things to say are : I love you, Sorry and help me&lt;br /&gt;The people who say these are actually in need of them or really feel them, and are the ones you really need to treasure, because they have said them.&lt;br /&gt;Did you know that people who occupy themselves by keeping others company or helping others are the ones that actually need your company and help?&lt;br /&gt;Did you know that those who dress in red are more confident in themselves?&lt;br /&gt;Did you know that those who dress in yellow are those that enjoy their beauty?&lt;br /&gt;Did you know that those who dress in black, are those who want to be unnoticed and need your help and understanding? (di kaya mataba lang sila..) hehe&lt;br /&gt;Did you know that when you help someone, the help is returned in two folds?&lt;br /&gt;Did you know that those who need more of you are those that don't mention it to you?&lt;br /&gt;Did you know that it's easier to say what you feel in writing than saying it to someone in the face?But did you know that it has more value when you say it to their face?&lt;br /&gt;Did you know that what is most difficult for you to say or do is much more valuable than anything that is valuable that you can buy with money?&lt;br /&gt;Did you know that if you ask for something in faith, your wishes are granted?&lt;br /&gt;Did you know that you can make your dreams come true, like falling in love, becoming rich, staying healthy, if you ask for it by faith, and if you really knew, you'd be surprised by what you could do.&lt;br /&gt;But don't believe everything I tell you, until you try it for yourself , if you know someone that is in need of something that I mentioned, and you know that you can help, you'll see that it will be returned in two-fold .&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr unselectable="on" hb_tag="1"&gt;&lt;td style="FONT-SIZE: 1pt" height="1" unselectable="on"&gt;&lt;div id="hotbar_promo"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7340911-109765630811466661?l=mitzch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mitzch.blogspot.com/feeds/109765630811466661/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7340911&amp;postID=109765630811466661' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7340911/posts/default/109765630811466661'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7340911/posts/default/109765630811466661'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mitzch.blogspot.com/2004/10/did-you-know-from-frenster.html' title='did YOU know? (from frenster)'/><author><name>MitZch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04700292077681375250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://www.pimpyopage.com/8-24-03-Unique-Image160.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7340911.post-109566965789731227</id><published>2004-09-20T01:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-09-20T01:40:57.896-07:00</updated><title type='text'>by Mariel Calalo</title><content type='html'>&lt;table id="HB_Mail_Container" height="100%" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="100%" border="0" unselectable="on"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr height="100%" width="100%" unselectable="on"&gt;&lt;td id="HB_Focus_Element" valign="top" width="100%" background="" height="250" unselectable="off"&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Of Love and Coffee&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;What is it about coffee that makes people have great conversations and "Aha! Moments?" Brewing coffee is much like concocting love... except maybe the latter may be much more complicated. This article is about finding love, losing it and possibly finding it again, in the eyes of a self-confessed caffeine-addicted writer. In order to concoct the best love story, you will need the following ingredients: 1 liter water, purified of all doubts, past hurts,insecurities and emotional baggages 1 cup of grounded coffee beans, bursting with flavor and aroma of a potentially functional romantic relationship Sweetener composed of promises made and kept, thoughtfulness and unwavering commitment. Bring to a boil... This could take from 2 weeks to 2 years, even 2 decades. Hey! Love stories like these don't happen overnight. It's a slow process to ensure that the boiling water extracts the exquisite flavor from your coffee beans...the aroma stimulating your olfactory nerves. Sometimes it could be slow to the point of madness... a love that is not based on first sight but a love realized after so much "sights" and analysis, sometimes even overanalysis. Sweeten as needed by text messages with animated bears and smileys, romantic comedy analysis, constant communication and mushy theme songs played over and ovet as you drive home. And this will guarantee you an "espresso perfect romance", right? Well, not quite. Sometimes, no matter how much you follow this instruction to the last letter, things don't pan out the way you planned and pictured them to be. The boy who gladly shared "after seven Starbucks Moment" (moments of extreme pressure, disappointments... low, sad moments in general) is nowhere to be found. Possibly, he's out there screwing up. You suddenly realize that you are no longer needed because everything in his life is going great &amp; he doesn't need you for "after seven Starbucks Moments"... and what's left in your mug is a day-old coffee, cold and stale. Your initial reaction was to reheat your espresso. You cry and pray to God for an instant replay of your so-called potentially functional relationship... and all that might have been. All to no avail. So what's a girl to do? You wipe away your tears, take your half-filled cup of stale espresso, throw away your espresso and wash the cup to remove yesterday's coffee stains. Take another liter of water, your coffee beans and your sugar. Brew a fresh batch and while you do, close your eyes and savor the aroma of your fresh coffee. And as you sip your freshly brewed coffee, you'll realize that throwing away yesterday's espresso was a good thing to do, otherwise you won't be enjoying this fresh cup. In terms of love, you'd realize that by ditching the jerk, you actually did yourself a favor. You'd realize that you're not going to settle for that jerk, nor kiss a bunch of losers. You'd realize that savoring this freshly brewed cup feels like coming home... Whether it's the coffee or the person in front of you, in your heart of hearts,you're convinced that THIS IS WORTH ALL THE WHILE I WASTED WAITING. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Love Is Like Shopping for Shoes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;It is a truth universally acknowledged that a girl in possession of a mid-year bonus must be in search of the perfect shoes. People consider shopping as a complete waste of time... But for me, I have learned love's greatest lessons from shopping... particularly, shopping for shoes. I consider Glorietta-Greenbelt-SM-Landmark chain of establishments as my home away from home. I practically buy most of the stuff there. Sales people in those shops where I buy my "kikay" stuff are practically on first name basis with me. If there is any part of shopping that I enjoy the most, it would be shopping for the shoes. Shopping for shoes is something I consider sacred. Shopping for shoes requires commitment, commitment of your resources to get the best shoes your resources can afford. I like shopping for shoes alone because it gives me the freedom to choose the shoes I want without having to worry what people think about it. It gives me the freedom to decide based on my idea of a good pair of shoes is, and not based on what other people think the perfect shoes should essentially have. After months of waiting for the midyear bonus, I finally got it. Now it is time to pack my bag and head for my Glorietta to hunt for the perfect shoes. I don't plan to spend my entire bonus on shoes. I only wanted to buy one pair of black leather shoes... The pair I'm going to wear daily to the office. Hmmm, it should be sophisticated enough for the office and yet, comfortable enough for daily wear. I guess I have a fairly good idea of what I would like to buy. Since I normally wear pants to the office, a good pair of boots will do. So I set off to the first shop I could find. I scanned the shop for the shoe I would like to buy. Well, no boots here but I sure fancy the mules. I just had to try them on... So I asked the sales lady for my size, fitted the shoe and walked in it back and forth. Well, the mule was sophisticated enough for the office but the heels are killing me. I feel great wearing them now but the thing is I can't wear it for a long time. Try to imagine wearing it daily? I knew this pair was just not it. Moving on to the next shop, I found a great pair of black leather shoes, asked the sales lady for my size and fitted the pair. It's a great pair alright, but when I looked at the tag price... My budget will be busted. It's price is thrice of how much I currently have. It's a good pair but I think I can do without it, if it means busting my budget. A part of me feels bad because I think this is a good buy... But overspending isn't what I have planned for my shopping activity for this particular day. So I hop from shop to shop, finding shoes of different sorts, some of them almost the same as what I have in mind, but then something is just not quite "it." I went back to some of the shops I went to a while back, fitted the same shoes I fitted before, thinking to myself that maybe I need to give these shoes a second look to convince me that I ought to buy them. By 3:00 pm of that Saturday, I felt exhausted and frustrated. I wanted to buy a great pair and I just couldn't find one. It's either I totally don't like the style or the fit or I just can't afford it. I told myself "just buy a pair! Whatever pair and go home!" For a minute, I wanted to agree with my sore feet. Yeah, maybe I should just buy a pair for the sake of buying, wear it once in a while and get on with my life. However, when I think about not getting my money's worth by buying something that would not completely fit what my idea of great shoe find would be... I just couldn't buy a shoe for the sake of buying. Perhaps I haven't seen all the shops... Just when I was ready to give up and go home with a box of donuts instead of a box of shoes... There they were... A pair of black leather wedge boots... Great for slacks and denim... I knew I just had to try this pair. So again, I ordered for my size and fitted the pair. Yes! This pair is perfect. They're comfortable enough to be worn for more that 8 hours a day, sophisticated enough...and the price precisely fits my budget. I just knew the moment I fitted this pair that I just got to have them. I just knew that if I'd come back tomorrow in this shop and not find this pair, I'd be regretting it until the next bonus. I just need to purchase this pair... NOW. Shopping for shoes is much like finding love. Don't try to fit it if you're not going to buy it because when it feels great and you realize that you don't have enough to buy it, you'll just regret having ever to try them on. Don't buy it if you have reservations. Don't buy it when it's "almost but not quite." If you do, you would end up with something that won't be that useful to you. You judge the best pair based on your own criteria because you will be the one to wear it everyday. When you buy a pair of shoes, you need to be commited, at least, your feet should be committed to wear them, if needed, daily. And when you finally get the perfect pair, and you know you just can't do without this pair... Go for it before you actually regret it when somebody else buys that shoe. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr unselectable="on" hb_tag="1"&gt;&lt;td style="FONT-SIZE: 1pt" height="1" unselectable="on"&gt;&lt;div id="hotbar_promo" align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7340911-109566965789731227?l=mitzch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mitzch.blogspot.com/feeds/109566965789731227/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7340911&amp;postID=109566965789731227' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7340911/posts/default/109566965789731227'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7340911/posts/default/109566965789731227'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mitzch.blogspot.com/2004/09/by-mariel-calalo_109566965789731227.html' title='by Mariel Calalo'/><author><name>MitZch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04700292077681375250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://www.pimpyopage.com/8-24-03-Unique-Image160.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7340911.post-109455249568622413</id><published>2004-09-07T03:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-09-08T19:00:34.386-07:00</updated><title type='text'>never really was</title><content type='html'>YOU and i never really was&lt;br /&gt;You looked into my eyes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;And my heart lost its mind&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Passion doesn't need a reason&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;I hung on every word&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;But never really heard&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;What I made myself believe in&lt;br /&gt;I was yours forever from the day we met&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;'Till I realized that it was all in my head&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;You were never really mine&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Never really mine&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;I was cought up in the fantasy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Of what I wanted us to be&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;But I was only blindY&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;You were never really mine&lt;br /&gt;I used to cry at night&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Tryin' to hold on tight&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;To the ghost of my illusions&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;How do you lose a love&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;That never really was&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Is there any resolution&lt;br /&gt;I thought that you would come around&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;I thought you'd change&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Now this cold reality&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Is all that remains &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;You were never really mine&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Never really mine&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;I was caught up in the fantasy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Of what I wanted us to be&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;But I was only blind&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;You were never really mine&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;I opened up my eyes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;And now I realized...&lt;br /&gt;You were never really mine&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Never really mine&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;I was caught up in the fantasy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Of what I wanted us to be&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;But I was only blind&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;You were never really mine&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;**not really sure if this is a song or poem.i just liked the words and so I posted it here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7340911-109455249568622413?l=mitzch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mitzch.blogspot.com/feeds/109455249568622413/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7340911&amp;postID=109455249568622413' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7340911/posts/default/109455249568622413'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7340911/posts/default/109455249568622413'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mitzch.blogspot.com/2004/09/never-really-was.html' title='never really was'/><author><name>MitZch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04700292077681375250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://www.pimpyopage.com/8-24-03-Unique-Image160.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7340911.post-109420052620245185</id><published>2004-09-03T01:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-09-03T01:35:26.203-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I refuse To by Pink gurl (http://peyups.com)</title><content type='html'>&lt;table id="HB_Mail_Container" height="100%" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="100%" border="0" unselectable="on"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr height="100%" unselectable="on" width="100%"&gt;&lt;td id="HB_Focus_Element" valign="top" width="100%" background="" height="250" unselectable="off"&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I refuse to live in the past. What we shared lives in the past, it doesn’t control me any longer. Don’t get me wrong, I will forever treasure it but I won’t let it hold me back. I won’t let it ruin who I was and who I am now. For a time, I almost forgot who I was without you. I’ll never let that happen again. I won’t ever lose myself again.&lt;br /&gt;I refuse to wait for you any longer. There was a time in my life when I would have saved myself for you alone. In my heart no one else would do. I belonged to no one else but you. That isn’t me anymore. My heart finally caught up with my brain and I finally saw that all of it was just nothing but fantasies. Dreams that only I wanted. There was no hope left for us. As each day passed, it became clearer to me that it was never meant to be. We were never meant to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I refuse to live in the past. What we shared lives in the past, it doesn’t control me any longer. Don’t get me wrong, I will forever treasure it but I won’t let it hold me back. I won’t let it ruin who I was and who I am now. For a time, I almost forgot who I was without you. I’ll never let that happen again. I won’t ever lose myself again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I refuse to fight anymore. For several months now, I’ve been fighting. I’ve been fighting for our friendship and for us. However, no matter what I do, I seem to be losing. Whenever I feel as if I’m going to buckle down because of the pressure, the thought that somehow maybe you are fighting for us too kept me going. But months have passed, I haven’t heard from you. Somehow I finally realized that I was the only one fighting for us. I was doing everything I could possibly can for someone who was and never will be mine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I refuse to believe that you didn’t love me. Somehow, someway, I know that I have a place in your heart. You may not have been able to love me the way I wanted you to love me but I know that even for just a second, you really did love me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I refuse to lose hope. It may not be you. It may take me forever to find him, but I will. Tears have been streaming down my cheeks for too long but not anymore. I have learned so many things from all this. Things that I felt should have been taught to me some other less painful way but somehow I don’t regret it. It made me stronger. It made me look inside myself and really see who I really am and not who I thought I was. Hope kept me going. The hope for better things to come, the same hope that one day I will finally be over you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr unselectable="on" hb_tag="1"&gt;&lt;td style="FONT-SIZE: 1pt" height="1" unselectable="on"&gt;&lt;div id="hotbar_promo"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7340911-109420052620245185?l=mitzch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mitzch.blogspot.com/feeds/109420052620245185/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7340911&amp;postID=109420052620245185' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7340911/posts/default/109420052620245185'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7340911/posts/default/109420052620245185'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mitzch.blogspot.com/2004/09/i-refuse-to-by-pink-gurl-httppeyupscom.html' title='I refuse To by Pink gurl (http://peyups.com)'/><author><name>MitZch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04700292077681375250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://www.pimpyopage.com/8-24-03-Unique-Image160.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7340911.post-109299651680246203</id><published>2004-08-20T03:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-08-20T03:08:36.803-07:00</updated><title type='text'>so i love you because I know no other way than this ...</title><content type='html'>I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,&lt;br /&gt;or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.&lt;br /&gt;I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,&lt;br /&gt;in secret, between the shadow and the soul.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you as the plant that never blooms&lt;br /&gt;but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;&lt;br /&gt;thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,&lt;br /&gt;risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I LOVE YOU WITHOUT KNOWING HOW, OR&lt;br /&gt;WHEN, OR FROM WHERE.&lt;br /&gt;I LOVE YOU STRAIGHTFORWARDLY, WITHOUT&lt;br /&gt;COMPLEXITIES OR PRIDE;&lt;br /&gt;so I love you because I know no other way&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;than this: where I does not exist, nor you,&lt;br /&gt;so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,&lt;br /&gt;so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**pablo neruda&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7340911-109299651680246203?l=mitzch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mitzch.blogspot.com/feeds/109299651680246203/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7340911&amp;postID=109299651680246203' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7340911/posts/default/109299651680246203'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7340911/posts/default/109299651680246203'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mitzch.blogspot.com/2004/08/so-i-love-you-because-i-know-no-other.html' title='so i love you because I know no other way than this ...'/><author><name>MitZch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04700292077681375250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://www.pimpyopage.com/8-24-03-Unique-Image160.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7340911.post-109220021648125878</id><published>2004-08-10T21:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-08-10T21:56:56.480-07:00</updated><title type='text'>THE ONE THAT GOD HAS PREPARED FOR ME</title><content type='html'>A LETTER TO THE ONE THAT GOD HAS PREPARED FOR ME&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am wondering at this very minute if you are thinking of me, if you like me, you are wondering what is taking us so long to find each other. Many times I thought I finally found you only to be disillusioned by the fact that my wait has not yet ended. I get up each morning hoping, dreaming, longing to meet you. I am thinking how we will meet, would it be as romantic as the one I have seen in movies? Or is it possible that I have known you all my life but we have yet to realize that we are meant for each other? Oh! How I wish you were here right now because you are the only one who has the answers to all my questions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes, I ask myself if I have ever really known “love”. I do not have the answer to that question either but I believe that, more often than not, we will never really know what love is until we find that right person…and since I have not found you yet, then, maybe I do not really know what love is!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You just don’t know how often I dream of finally knowing what it feels like to be in your arms. Even at this very moment, I am imagining how you will simply sweep me off my feet!! Perhaps I would be drawn to you by your smile, or your eyes, or maybe even how you manage to make me laugh by your silly little ways!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don’t really know for sure but I am praying that God will help me recognize you when the right time comes. I think of all the pain that I have gone through in the past and how much I cried since the day I began my search. I just wanted you to know that I find my strength in clinging onto my vision of the beautiful life ahead of me --- the life I shall spend with you. In my mind and in my heart, I know that you are worth all that pain and sacrifice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After all, the tears have become a part of my life and I believe that they are slowly washing away my flaws so that I would become perfect, not perfect in its truest sense, but perfect---for YOU! I wonder if you’ve gone through so much pain as well. I wonder if you’ve been hurt so many times along the journey. But my dearest one, please don’t ever give up because I am right here…patiently waiting for you! I assure you that when we finally find each other..I would slowly heal those wounds by my love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At night, I would look out my window and stare at the beautiful sky, hoping that somehow you are also looking up and wondering about me. I utter a silent prayer and send all my cries to the heavens above thinking that in time they would reach you. And when I feel impatient, I just close my eyes and believe that you are on your way and that you are longing to see me as well. It is funny but when I finally fall asleep, it is still you that I think of, for you are always in my dreams. It seems that, for now, that is the only place where I can hold on to you, long enough to tell you how much I love you. In my dreams, you would kiss my fears and wrap me with your arms of love. And this, all the more, makes me want to wake up and face the new day ahead with the hope that soon enough, you will no longer be a dream but a reality and once again, I am assured that you are worth the wait.  And when that time comes, everything will fall into its place, just as I have imagined, just as I had thought and dreamed, just as I had believed it would be!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By then, I would simply look back and smile at all that I have gone through, in spite of the pain and amidst the simple joys of life --- and I would be very thankful because they all lead me to you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the meantime, take care of yourself for me. Hold on to our dream and don’t ever think of letting go. Believe in your heart that we will find each other no matter what happens. God has planned the course and it is up to us to follow the directions. Don’t worry, don’t be afraid about getting lost, God saw to it that all the roads, no matter which one you choose to follow, lead to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; -anonymous-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7340911-109220021648125878?l=mitzch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mitzch.blogspot.com/feeds/109220021648125878/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7340911&amp;postID=109220021648125878' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7340911/posts/default/109220021648125878'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7340911/posts/default/109220021648125878'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mitzch.blogspot.com/2004/08/one-that-god-has-prepared-for-me.html' title='THE ONE THAT GOD HAS PREPARED FOR ME'/><author><name>MitZch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04700292077681375250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://www.pimpyopage.com/8-24-03-Unique-Image160.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7340911.post-109170313895403780</id><published>2004-08-05T03:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-08-05T03:52:18.953-07:00</updated><title type='text'>youre still you...</title><content type='html'>Through the darkness&lt;br /&gt;I can see your light&lt;br /&gt;And you will always shine&lt;br /&gt;And I can feel youre heart in mine&lt;br /&gt;Your face I memorized&lt;br /&gt;I idolize just you&lt;br /&gt;I look up to&lt;br /&gt;Everything you are&lt;br /&gt;In my eyes you do no wrong&lt;br /&gt;Ive loved you for so long&lt;br /&gt;And after all is said and done&lt;br /&gt;Youre still you&lt;br /&gt;After all&lt;br /&gt;Youre still you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You walk past me&lt;br /&gt;I can feel your pain&lt;br /&gt;Time changes everything&lt;br /&gt;One truth always stays the same&lt;br /&gt;Youre still you&lt;br /&gt;After all&lt;br /&gt;Youre still you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I look up to&lt;br /&gt;Everything you are&lt;br /&gt;In my eyes you do no wrong&lt;br /&gt;And I believe in you&lt;br /&gt;Although you never asked me to&lt;br /&gt;I will remember you&lt;br /&gt;And what life put you through&lt;br /&gt;And in this cruel and lonely world&lt;br /&gt;Ive found one love&lt;br /&gt;Youre still you&lt;br /&gt;After all&lt;br /&gt;Youre still you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7340911-109170313895403780?l=mitzch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mitzch.blogspot.com/feeds/109170313895403780/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7340911&amp;postID=109170313895403780' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7340911/posts/default/109170313895403780'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7340911/posts/default/109170313895403780'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mitzch.blogspot.com/2004/08/youre-still-you.html' title='youre still you...'/><author><name>MitZch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04700292077681375250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://www.pimpyopage.com/8-24-03-Unique-Image160.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7340911.post-109150898605537730</id><published>2004-08-02T21:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-08-02T21:56:26.056-07:00</updated><title type='text'>SOBER by jennifer paige</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Girl meets boy, girl goes crazy&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Boy backs away, she gets her heart broken&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;No words are spoken&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Boy comes back and acts&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;As if everything is cool&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Soon she's got him back on a pedestal&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;She only sees what she wants to see&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Love is blind, love is so misleading&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;(CHORUS)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I see the light, oh what a light&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And I am sober&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;All that you served to me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;No longer will I drink it in&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I took the time to think it over&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I see the you that I never knew&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Now it's finally sinking in&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I am sober&lt;br /&gt;Girl wakes up and smells the coffee one day&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Realizes she's on her own again&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;All alone again&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Boy takes every opportunity&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;To play on every insecurity&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Get her back on track&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;She's in a daze, back in the fire&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;But will she cave into her old desires&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7340911-109150898605537730?l=mitzch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mitzch.blogspot.com/feeds/109150898605537730/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7340911&amp;postID=109150898605537730' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7340911/posts/default/109150898605537730'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7340911/posts/default/109150898605537730'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mitzch.blogspot.com/2004/08/sober-by-jennifer-paige.html' title='SOBER by jennifer paige'/><author><name>MitZch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04700292077681375250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://www.pimpyopage.com/8-24-03-Unique-Image160.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7340911.post-109108867830533462</id><published>2004-07-29T00:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-07-29T01:13:43.883-07:00</updated><title type='text'>MYMP fever!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I could be Wrong&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;p&gt;If I could hold your hand&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Look into your eyes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Would you try to understand&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;The things I'm gonna sayIf I could show you, boy&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;How much I feel for you&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Would you turn around and tell me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;You feel the same way too&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;CHORUS&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Could be wrong you know&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Comin' out the blueI really have to say this&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Baby, I love youIf I could get it right&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And tell you face to face&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Would you think that I am true&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Believe me when I say&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I wanna let you knowI just don't know the way&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I wanna shout it out&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Hear me when I say&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;These blues will always hang around&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Until the moment I let it go&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And let you know&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Baby, I love you&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I wanna let you knowBaby, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I love you&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;This you ought to know &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Dream without YOU&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Last night, you said you love me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Last night, you said you needed me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;When I woke up, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I never saw your face&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;When I woke up, you never left a trace&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And if there's nothing I can say or doI'll sing this song, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I wanna sing to you&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I don't wanna dream if my dream is without you&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I don't wanna sleep if my dream will only be blue&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I don't wanna hear the words, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I don't wanna feel your touch&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;All I know is that you hurt me so much&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;You said that we would stay together&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I thought that we would be forever&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I never thought we'd ever part&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;But now I have a broken heart&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I wonder why I never understand&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;But I understood when I saw you then&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Boy, it's been three years since we part&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And all those years I never had a change of heart&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I'm not asking you back, I just need a friend&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;All I'm asking is, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;let me dream again &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7340911-109108867830533462?l=mitzch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mitzch.blogspot.com/feeds/109108867830533462/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7340911&amp;postID=109108867830533462' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7340911/posts/default/109108867830533462'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7340911/posts/default/109108867830533462'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mitzch.blogspot.com/2004/07/mymp-fever.html' title='MYMP fever!!!'/><author><name>MitZch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04700292077681375250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://www.pimpyopage.com/8-24-03-Unique-Image160.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7340911.post-109058120148884273</id><published>2004-07-23T04:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-07-23T04:13:21.486-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;MANY people are afraid of growing old. I'm afraid&amp;nbsp; of growing old and boring. Many people are afraid of growing old, alone. I'm afraid of growing old, insane. Many people are afraid of losing their looks. I'm afraid of losing my dreams. Many people are afraid of losing their youth. I'm afraid of losing my soul. When you're 15, 35 seems ancient. When you're 35, 15 seems juvenile.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;A turnaround in a split second - two decades zoom past and before you know it, it's only a mile to the next millennium. Don't fear age- it's a right of personhood. Don't fear death- it's God's greatest jest. Don't grow old - you don't have to. Don't date because you're desperate. Don't marry because you're miserable. Don't have kids because you think your genes are superior. Don't separate because you think it's fashionable. Don't drink because you have troubles. Don't gamble because you think winning is inevitable. Don't philander because you think you're irresistible. Most likely, you're not. Don't associate with people you can't trust. Don't cheat. Don't lie. Don't pretend. Don't try to buy your way into the kingdom of God. Don't dictate because you're smarter. Don't demand because you're stronger. Don't sleep around because you think you're old enough and know better. Don't hurt your kids because loving them is harder. Don't sell your self, your family or your ideals. Don't stagnate. Don't regress. Learn a new skill. Find a new friend. Start a new career. Don't live in the past. Time can't bring anything or anyone back. Don't put your life on hold for possibly Mr. /Ms. Right. Don't throw your life away on absolutely Mr./Ms. Wrong because your biological clock is ticking and you can't afford to have your eggs harvested before the new millennium. There's always a mad rush to something, somewhere but victory does not always belong to those who finish first. Sometimes, there is no race to be won, only a price to be paid for some of life's more hasty decisions. You can't always go with the throng who could be wrong. Sometimes, you have to be alone to be enlightened. To terminate your loneliness, reach out to the homeless. To feed your nurturing instincts, care for the needy. To fulfill your parenting fantasies, get a puppy. Don't bring another life into this world for all the wrong reasons. To keep yourself warm, buy a jacket. In the long run, it will be less complicated and less costly. To make yourself happy, pursue your passions and be the best of what you can be. Simplify your life. Take away the clutter. Get rid of destructive elements, abusive friends, nasty habits and dangerous liaisons. Don't abandon your responsibilities but don't overdose on duty. Don't live life recklessly without thought and feeling for your family. Be true to yourself. Don't commit when you're not ready. Don't keep others waiting needlessly. Fall in love - it's the greatest thing on earth. But take care and remember, after the fall must come the rise. Go on that trip. Don't postpone it. Say those words. Don't let the moment pass. Do what you must even at society's scorn. Write poetry. Love deeply. Walk barefoot. Hold hands. Dance with wild abandon. Cry at the movies. Take care of yourself. Don't wait for someone to take care of you. You light up your life. You drive yourself to your destination. No one completes you - except you. It is true that life doesn't get easier with age. It only gets more challenging. Don't be afraid. Don't lose your capacity to love. Pursue your passions. Live your dreams. Don't lose faith in God.&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/7340911-109058120148884273?l=mitzch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mitzch.blogspot.com/feeds/109058120148884273/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7340911&amp;postID=109058120148884273' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7340911/posts/default/109058120148884273'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7340911/posts/default/109058120148884273'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mitzch.blogspot.com/2004/07/many-people-are-afraid-of-growing-old.html' title=''/><author><name>MitZch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04700292077681375250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://www.pimpyopage.com/8-24-03-Unique-Image160.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7340911.post-109049791835018169</id><published>2004-07-22T05:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-07-22T05:05:18.350-07:00</updated><title type='text'>text from rach</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;"words are a heavy thing...they weigh you down...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;If birds talked they couldn't fly..."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7340911-109049791835018169?l=mitzch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mitzch.blogspot.com/feeds/109049791835018169/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7340911&amp;postID=109049791835018169' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7340911/posts/default/109049791835018169'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7340911/posts/default/109049791835018169'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mitzch.blogspot.com/2004/07/text-from-rach.html' title='text from rach'/><author><name>MitZch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04700292077681375250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://www.pimpyopage.com/8-24-03-Unique-Image160.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7340911.post-109032289437112148</id><published>2004-07-20T04:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-07-20T04:28:14.370-07:00</updated><title type='text'>When is it really over? (from retch's email)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;This is one of the mornings after another sleepless night that I cannot help not ask myself, why didn't I have a good night sleep again? Then I would just joke myself and answer it with, maybe someone's been thinking of me all night .. hahaha! &lt;br /&gt;Jokes are always half-meant, a friend said. And maybe...just maybe, behind that joke, there's this wishful thinking that someone has really been thinking of me. Then the memory of someone from the past would, again, bounce in my head... disturb my sanity and make my day half-miserable. &lt;br /&gt;What if he's thinking about me? What if he still loves me? It's just another imagination, I know. Another day of what if's and maybe's. For the nth time, I've told myself that when it's over, it's really over! There's no sense turning back or even trying to pick up the pieces again. It's time to move on and face the reality! &lt;br /&gt;When it's over, is it really over? When you decide to let go, do you really succeed in letting go? &lt;br /&gt;I just heard the song of Sugar Ray a while ago. Here's the few lines that caught my attention: &lt;br /&gt;When it's over, That's the time I fall in love again...When it's over, That's the time you're in my heart again... &lt;br /&gt;How can you possibly say it's over when you're still in love with the person you said you were over with already? I guess it's not that easy when the chain of the past locks you in the chest of false hopes and leads you to a place called fantasy with Cinderella and Snow white as your best friends! The three of you would gather on the hilltop and after a while three young drop-dead gorgeous princes would come riding on their horses to join the picnic under a tree. &lt;br /&gt;How pathetic! But, admit it or not, it's true... The hardest part of losing a loved one is to accept the fact that they're gone and might never come back again. There are things that will always remind you of your togetherness...the places you've been, his or her favorite food you used to cook for him or her, expressions you used to hear from him or her and songs you've both loved to sing. &lt;br /&gt;These are the memories that'd linger on your mind from time to time. Because you were both in love before (or so you think), it makes you hope for another chance. &lt;br /&gt;You begin to believe on what others said that love is lovelier the second time around and the line from Ally McBeal, "whoever said that 'plenty of fish in the sea' thing is lying. Sometimes, there's only one...trust me." &lt;br /&gt;We would desperately believe that what happens in the movies might also happen to us one day. &lt;br /&gt;Who didn't like the lines from the movie "Runaway Bride" where Julia Roberts told Richard Gere, "I guarantee that we'll have tough times; I guarantee that in some point, one of us would want to get out; I also guarantee that if I don't ask you to be mine, I'll regret this for the rest of my life, 'coz I know in my heart...you're the only one for me." &lt;br /&gt;We tend to think that the person who left us will come back one day and say those words, or just simple words but would promise forever. Problems may occur every now and then, but we would consider those things as trials to be conquered in order for the relationship to bloom and mature. &lt;br /&gt;Oouucchh! Reality just bit me! &lt;br /&gt;More often than not, these romantic movies and mushy love songs only make us long for something we cannot have...and for someone who cannot be ours again. It hurts to admit that we are just pretending. All the while, we already knew the truth but we ignore it. When the damage is done, there's nothing left to do but cry...to mourn for the bitterness in our hearts. Then curse anybody who gets in the way. &lt;br /&gt;I'm scared!!! &lt;br /&gt;As long as we still hold on to the past, the chance of meeting someone new may be a bit far off the field. &lt;br /&gt;The fear of trusting and falling in love again may also hinder us to grow and move on. We are hesitant to take the risk, afraid that we may get hurt again. Because of the negative thoughts stocked in our brains, we refuse to go out from our self-made world and deprive ourselves from new opportunities, whether in love affairs or career wise. &lt;br /&gt;Let's face it! Betrayal can be anywhere and anyone can be a victim. The worst part is when the one we truly, madly and deeply love is the one who will betray us in the end. Then we are left with nothing but a broken heart and wounded pride. Sad... but true. &lt;br /&gt;Reality check please... &lt;br /&gt;It can happen to anyone but we shouldn't just take things as it comes. An action must be done. We should take care of ourselves from the hungry wolves in the jungle. It's just a matter of survival. Stand up when you fall. &lt;br /&gt;It's okay to cry as hard and as long as you want to, just make sure that when you stop crying, you won't cry for the same reason anymore. &lt;br /&gt;Learn and live. Love is the most wonderful thing one can offer, so be smart enough to give the love in your heart to the one who really deserves it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7340911-109032289437112148?l=mitzch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mitzch.blogspot.com/feeds/109032289437112148/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7340911&amp;postID=109032289437112148' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7340911/posts/default/109032289437112148'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7340911/posts/default/109032289437112148'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mitzch.blogspot.com/2004/07/when-is-it-really-over-from-retchs.html' title='When is it really over? (from retch&apos;s email)'/><author><name>MitZch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04700292077681375250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://www.pimpyopage.com/8-24-03-Unique-Image160.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7340911.post-109032272509320470</id><published>2004-07-20T04:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-07-20T04:25:25.093-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"Just Friends?"</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;I'm sure those with email or have friends with email have gotten wind &lt;br /&gt;of this article written by Susan Nikaido on the widespread phenomenon &lt;br /&gt;appropriately entitled "Just Friends?". With all the reaction the &lt;br /&gt;article has gotten from those victimized by the epidemic and those men &lt;br /&gt;who seem to live it, I thought, "Wait a minute maybe the topic deserves &lt;br /&gt;another shot!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nikaido starts her article by defining the phenomenon: boy and girl &lt;br /&gt;meet and they start spending a great deal of time together. They watch &lt;br /&gt;movies, go to the grocery or to the talyer together, hear mass, have &lt;br /&gt;breakfast, lunch or dinner together. It often extends to picking each &lt;br /&gt;other up or bringing each other home if the need arises. Their &lt;br /&gt;different circles of friends accept that inviting one means inviting the &lt;br /&gt;other &lt;br /&gt;and no one seems to have a problem with that arrangement. She's number &lt;br /&gt;three on his cellphone's speed dial (home, work, girl). She's the first &lt;br /&gt;person he thinks of when sending those god-forsaken text jokes. He calls &lt;br /&gt;her &lt;br /&gt;up three or four times a day, at the very least, and the conversation &lt;br /&gt;usually lasts for hours. Sounds familiar? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He begins telling her about the deeper things in his heart and invites &lt;br /&gt;her to share at this level as well. He sends her mushy 'friendship' &lt;br /&gt;cards and tells her that she means a great deal to him. He may become a &lt;br /&gt;little affectionate: the hugs begin to linger. The relationship has &lt;br /&gt;become wedged between friendship and M.U. (mutual understanding). After &lt;br /&gt;a long while and a million questions from her friends, the girl musters &lt;br /&gt;enough courage to ask the boy that mllion-peso question: "What's the &lt;br /&gt;deal between us?" Translation: "Ano ba talaga?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, that question which obviously meant to jolt the man into &lt;br /&gt;thinking: "We do have to define this relationship. We can't be in limbo &lt;br /&gt;forever, therefore I'm going to ask her to be my girlfriend!", only &lt;br /&gt;makes him panic and run for his life. To her surprise, he does a quick &lt;br /&gt;about-face. He insists they are just friends. After that, he avoids &lt;br /&gt;her, leaving her hurt and bewildered. She feels rejected, she has lost not &lt;br /&gt;only a romantic interest but worse, a close and trusted friend. And, &lt;br /&gt;she feels stupid. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Joe, a man asked about the phenomenon, explained this by saying, "We &lt;br /&gt;were getting close, and it scared me." Single guys are normally on the &lt;br /&gt;look-out for women who are "girlfriend-material" so when they meet &lt;br /&gt;someone who they are not 100% certain fits the bill, they enter the &lt;br /&gt;"Just Friends" relationship. He starts calling her up and they start &lt;br /&gt;doing the boyfriend-girlfriend activities together. In his mind, &lt;br /&gt;they're not dating and they're definitely just friends. To her, he's &lt;br /&gt;probably &lt;br /&gt;just waiting for the right time to propose and she's sure he's in love &lt;br /&gt;with her. Herein lies the confusion. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Just Friends arrangement is great for the one who says, "of course &lt;br /&gt;not, we're not dating!" Results of a random survey show that the guy &lt;br /&gt;usually plays this part. He happily goes on calling her and being with &lt;br /&gt;her, not knowing the extent and depth of her feelings for him. A &lt;br /&gt;plausible explanation for the fact that men are mostly the victimizers &lt;br /&gt;is that women do not normally choose to be with someone for a prolonged &lt;br /&gt;period of time if there is no attraction involved. If the attraction is &lt;br /&gt;not enough to bring the relationship one step further, we make sure &lt;br /&gt;from the very beginning that the guy does not mistake our closeness as, &lt;br /&gt;"more than friendship." Why waste time? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guys, on the other hand, gladly enter a Just Friends relationship &lt;br /&gt;because it's convenient having a quasi-girlfriend without the &lt;br /&gt;commitment. It's like a country club membership without having to pay &lt;br /&gt;for anything especially if she allows intimacy into the relationship. &lt;br /&gt;For the guy, it's icing on the free cake. "In effect, he is asking her &lt;br /&gt;for the rewards of a dating relationship: companionship, emotional &lt;br /&gt;intimacy, even affection without the responsibility. He is playing with &lt;br /&gt;her heart and her heart will probably get broken." Guys might think, &lt;br /&gt;"If she gets hurt because I told her that we're just friends, it's not my &lt;br /&gt;problem. I never said anything to make her think that I want to become &lt;br /&gt;her boyfriend." The heartbreak here lies in the fact that not only is &lt;br /&gt;the potential romantic relationship destroyed, but so is the &lt;br /&gt;friendship. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The logical thing to do for all those who have unfortunately gone &lt;br /&gt;through something as endlessly heartbreaking as being told after many &lt;br /&gt;months or years of "great friendship," "Huh? What are you talking &lt;br /&gt;about? We're just friends!", is to run like hell. Stop seeing him/her! The &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;situation is like a hole you dig for yourself, the longer you stay &lt;br /&gt;there, the deeper the hole becomes and the more painful it gets because &lt;br /&gt;you know as well as I do that he's just going to keep calling you, &lt;br /&gt;seeing you, and texting you. The only way you can save yourself is if &lt;br /&gt;you can effectively take control of your emotions and develop a life &lt;br /&gt;outside of your relationship with the man. He'll complain and make &lt;br /&gt;tampo but just smile and say, "I'm busy, eh," whenever he asks you to go &lt;br /&gt;with &lt;br /&gt;him to the dentist (like you used to). The balance this will create &lt;br /&gt;should enable you to quickly get over him once he finds someone he &lt;br /&gt;actually wants to become his girlfriend because he will. He may wake up &lt;br /&gt;one day and realize that you're the one or he may not. Until then, &lt;br /&gt;you're lunching in Tagaytay with your other friends. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Turning the tables around, the fair thing to do if you find yourself &lt;br /&gt;spending time with someone interesting enough to go out with but you're &lt;br /&gt;just not sure, is to be completely honest with that person, especially &lt;br /&gt;if you have a feeling that the other person wants something more than &lt;br /&gt;friendship. The trick is to be straight and firm without sacrificing &lt;br /&gt;tact. You must be able to control the urge to see him/her all the time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Usually, the feelings of the other person get sideswiped by this time &lt;br /&gt;and we can avoid this if, from the very beginning, your were upfront &lt;br /&gt;with him or her. You might say, "But I enjoy her company! Why should I &lt;br /&gt;sacrifice my desire to be with her?" Listen, there's nothing as vicious &lt;br /&gt;as unconsciously or consciously leading someone on for your own &lt;br /&gt;personal gain. There will never be an excuse for it. Find other people to &lt;br /&gt;hang &lt;br /&gt;out with (even if they're not half as fun or as smart as she is). Be &lt;br /&gt;like butter and spread yourself around. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remember, what we're trying to avoid here is the eventual pain you're &lt;br /&gt;going to inflict on her later, plus, we're trying to protect the &lt;br /&gt;friendship. Now, take this time out to find out what exactly this woman &lt;br /&gt;means to you. If the feeling she gives you is the warm, fuzzy, safe, &lt;br /&gt;sunshiny type, then you love her as a friend and clearly, that's all &lt;br /&gt;you want. She's definitely your pal, your buddy, your ka-tight, your ka-G. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But if the feeling you have for her inside consumes you, makes your &lt;br /&gt;heart pound whenever she's around, tortures you whenever she's not, and &lt;br /&gt;makes you slightly insane with the thought of her being with another &lt;br /&gt;guy and now that you're apart, has made your heart ache so much you can &lt;br /&gt;hardly breathe, pare, you're in love with her. What next, you may ask? &lt;br /&gt;Whatever you feel for her, gather the guts and tell her. She's been &lt;br /&gt;your friend for so long that's the least you can do. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then, you may say, "But what if it doesn't work out in the end?" &lt;br /&gt;What if it does? Live dangerously! Take the risk! Hopefully, by now &lt;br /&gt;you've made up your mind. Now don't try to be smart by saying, "I need &lt;br /&gt;to spend time with her to find out how I feel for her:. Find this out &lt;br /&gt;on your own! By this time, I'm sure you can already distinguish between &lt;br /&gt;romantic love and companionship. If you still can't, stay the hell away &lt;br /&gt;from her. Your confusion only means one thing -- you're not in love &lt;br /&gt;with her. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The sincerity in your objective if all you want is to be friends with &lt;br /&gt;her should be manifested in how you treat her. Susan Nikaido says, "But &lt;br /&gt;what if a guy does only want to be friends? or wants to develop a &lt;br /&gt;friendship before he decides to date? It's pretty simple. He just &lt;br /&gt;treats the woman like all his other friends. He doesn't spend more time &lt;br /&gt;with &lt;br /&gt;her or call her more often than he does his other friends. He usually &lt;br /&gt;invites other people along when he gets together with her. He doesn't &lt;br /&gt;pick up the tab when just the two of them go out. He avoids compliments &lt;br /&gt;that might communicate she is "special" to him. He lets her know he &lt;br /&gt;spends time with other women. He's extremely careful about showing any &lt;br /&gt;physical affection even playful shoves or hugs." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still believe that a platonic relationship between a man and a woman &lt;br /&gt;is possible but only if the level of their love for each other is the &lt;br /&gt;same and as clearly defined as night and day. Both parties should take &lt;br /&gt;care in treating each other as friends, if that's truly where they want &lt;br /&gt;to go. The in-betweens should not be allowed to get in the way to avoid &lt;br /&gt;needless disappointments, hurts and unmet expectations. In the end, &lt;br /&gt;there are very few rules to be followed in maintaining a "really just &lt;br /&gt;friends" relationship: Be fair, be true, be honest, and be certain. &lt;br /&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/7340911-109032272509320470?l=mitzch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mitzch.blogspot.com/feeds/109032272509320470/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7340911&amp;postID=109032272509320470' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7340911/posts/default/109032272509320470'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7340911/posts/default/109032272509320470'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mitzch.blogspot.com/2004/07/just-friends.html' title='&quot;Just Friends?&quot;'/><author><name>MitZch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04700292077681375250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://www.pimpyopage.com/8-24-03-Unique-Image160.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7340911.post-109023515389032916</id><published>2004-07-19T03:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-07-19T04:07:47.623-07:00</updated><title type='text'>the L word</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.pimpyopage.com/Rom%20(139).gif" /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Was cleaning my mail and I got the following mushy mushy forwarded mails from retch ... &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;"We all want to fall in love. Why? Because that experience makes us feel completely alive. Where every sense is heightened, every emotion is magnified, our everyday reality is &amp;nbsp;shattered and we are flying into the heavens. It may only last a moment, an hour, an afternoon. But that doesn't diminish its value. Because we are left with memories that we treasure for the rest of our lives."&lt;/span&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;When you think of your past love, you may view it as a failure. But when you find a new love, you view the past as a teacher. In the game of love, it doesn't really matter who won or who lost. What is important is you know when to hold on and when to let go! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know you really love someone when you want him or her to be happy, even if his or her happiness means that you're not part of it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Sometimes people come into your life and you know right away thatthey were meant to be there... to serve some sort of purpose,teach you a lesson or help figure out who you are or who youwant to become. You never know who these people may be but whenyou lock eyes with them, you know that every moment that theywill affect your life in some profound way. And sometimes things happen to you at the time that may seem horrible, painful and unfair, but in reflection you realize that without overcoming those obstacles you would have never realized your potential,strength, will power or heart.Everything happens for a reason. Nothing happens by chance or bymeans of good luck. Illness, injury, love, lost moments of true greatness and sheer stupidity all occurs to test the limits ofyour soul. Without these small tests, life would be like a smoothy paved, straight, flat road to nowhere. Safe and comfortable but dull and utterly pointless. The people you meet affect your life. The successes and downfalls that you experience can create who you are, and the bad experiences can be learned from. In fact, they are probably the most poignant and importantones. If someone hurts you, betrays you or breaks your heart,forgive them because they have helped you learn about trust andthe importance of being cautious to whom you open your heart to.If someone loves you, love them back unconditionally, not only because they love you, but because they are teaching you to loveand open your heart and eyes to little things.Make every day count. Appreciate every moment and take from it everything that you possibly can, for you may never be able to experience it again. Talk to people you have never talked to before, and actually listen. Let yourself fall in love, breakfree and set your sights high. Hold your head up because you have every right to.Tell yourself you are a great individual and believ! e in you rself,for if you don't believe in yourself, no one else will believe inyou. Create your own life and then go out and live it.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Reality Bites &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Sometimes you have to confront and face reality when everything seems to be so uncertain. &lt;br /&gt;Liking someone is a state when you simply want to take control of everything around you. You want to tell the person how much you like him but you consider a whole lot of things before doing it like..."what will he think of me?", "what if he doesn't feel the same way?" until you reach a state of paranoia aggravated by sleepnights and uninterrupted daydreams. &lt;br /&gt;Sometimes though, you get lucky when the person you like actually drops some hints that he likes you. But the problem is...drum roll please...he doesn't say it!!! Stares, smiles, sweet messages and casual talks doesn't really validate your assumption because a part of you says that he might be doing this to everyone else. So there, you're once again in a state of paranoia but now coupled with &lt;br /&gt;delusion. &lt;br /&gt;Although, action speaks louder that words...some actions can be misleading. And besides, action alone is not enough. It's best to have actions and words expressed together because it gives the person a sense of security. &lt;br /&gt;So there, you'll keep waiting until he tells you something...not necessarily "I Love You" but something that can assure you that "yes" he feels the same way. And when he does that you won't have to go through the rigorours task of mind reading and sign interpretation over and over again. But if he doesn't you have no choice but to.... &lt;br /&gt;Face reality... &lt;br /&gt;Which has two sides. First, he doesn't like you at all...and you wasted so many years waiting for him and you passed on so many chances to be involved with someone who loves you but took it for granted because you are still clinging to that thread of hope that one day he will finally say much less admit how much he likes you or probably (just probably) loves you. The other side of it is that he is too smitten to tell you what he feels because he likes you so much and he's actually falling for you. (Now this is the good side of reality that I'm sure all of us wants). &lt;br /&gt;But I guess, the first reality is more believable than the second one.Let's put it at 70% to 30%. There's 70% more possibility for this to happen rather that 30% for the other one. Another way of putting the first reality would be, maybe the person likes you but he doesn't like you enough to exert much effort into it. &lt;br /&gt;So what's the best thing to do? Don't expect anything if you don't want to get hurt in the end. &lt;br /&gt;It's okay to hope but sometimes hoping can lead to unmet expectations and wasted emotions. The emotions you invested might be put to waste if you keep holding on to something that isn't there. &lt;br /&gt;There's nothing to wrong in giving up on someone...hold it right there...I used GIVE UP instead of LET GO. Why? Because there's a great deal of difference between the two. Letting go is giving up what was rightfully yours while Giving Up is foregoing what was never yours...sad isn't it? But it's the truth. You can't let go of someone who wasn't yours in the first place... You have to give him up because the adjustment will come from you. No more expectations, no more hopes just plain moving on without him. &lt;br /&gt;Come to think of it, you did well before him...you'll do well after him. &lt;br /&gt;And if ever something happens and what you actually hoped came true then it really was meant to be...but until you're in a limbo...it's best to enjoy life, extend your love to others and be happy and content knowing that the future holds much more promise that you can imagine... &lt;br /&gt;Everything happens for the best. If the person you love doesn't love you back, don't be afraid to love someone else again, for you'll never know unless you give it a try. You'll never love a person you love unless you risk for love. &lt;br /&gt;Love strives in hurting. If you don't get hurt, you don't learn how to love. &lt;br /&gt;Love doesn't hurt all the time, though the hurting is still there to test you and to help you grow. Don't find love, let love find you. That's why it's called falling in love because you don't force yourself to fall. You just fall. You cannot finish a book without closing its chapters. If you want to go on, then you have to leave the past as you turn the pages. &lt;br /&gt;Love is not destroyed by a single failure or won by a single caress. It is a lifetime venture in which we are always learning, discovering and growing. &lt;br /&gt;The greatest irony of love is letting go when you need to hold on and holding on when you need to let go. We lose someone we love only when we are destined to find someone else who can love us even more than we can love ourselves. &lt;br /&gt;On falling out of love, take some time to heal and then get back on the horse. But don't ever make the same mistake of riding the same one that threw you the first time. &lt;br /&gt;To love is to risk rejections; to live is to risk dying, to hope is to risk failure. But risk must be taken because the greatest hazard in life is risking nothing! &lt;br /&gt;To reach for another is to risk involvement, to expose your feelings is to expose true self; to love is to risk not to be loved in return. &lt;br /&gt;How to define love: fall but do not stumble, be constant but not too persistent, share and never be unfair, understand and try not to demand, hurt but never keep the pain. &lt;br /&gt;Love is like a knife. It can stab the heart or it can carve wonderful images into the soul that always last for a lifetime. &lt;br /&gt;Love is supposed to be the most wonderful feeling. It should inspire you and give you joy and strength. But sometimes the things that give you joy can also hurt you in the end. &lt;br /&gt;Loving people means giving them the freedom that they choose to be and where they choose to be. For all the heartaches and the tears, for gloomy days and fruitless years, you should give thanks, for you know, that these were the things which helped you grow. &lt;br /&gt;Loving someone means giving him the freedom to find his way, whether it leads towards you or away from you. Love is a painful risk to take but the risk must be taken no matter how scary or painful, for only then you'll experience the fullness of humanity and that is love. &lt;br /&gt;Only love can hurt your heart, fill you with desire and tear you apart. Only love can make you cry and only love knows why. If you're not ready to cry, if you're not ready to take the risk, if you're not ready to feel the pain, then you're not ready to fall in love. &lt;br /&gt;There was a time in our lives when we became afraid to fall in love because every time we do, we get hurt, then I figured that's why it's called falling in love. When you decide to love, allow it to grow. When you promise to love, refuse to let it die! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7340911-109023515389032916?l=mitzch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mitzch.blogspot.com/feeds/109023515389032916/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7340911&amp;postID=109023515389032916' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7340911/posts/default/109023515389032916'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7340911/posts/default/109023515389032916'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mitzch.blogspot.com/2004/07/l-word.html' title='the L word'/><author><name>MitZch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04700292077681375250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://www.pimpyopage.com/8-24-03-Unique-Image160.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7340911.post-108962767851256301</id><published>2004-07-12T03:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-07-12T03:21:18.513-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Lost Without You by Skin</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;I won't be lost without you (never gonna be lost without you)&lt;br /&gt;I've found a way to get through (never gonna be lost without you)&lt;br /&gt;Now i'm up and running, strong enough to walk away,&lt;br /&gt;And leave you alone, I won't be lost,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And when I see you, I find another reason to keep myself from getting lost in you&lt;br /&gt;And when I see you, Il find another reason to keep myself from getting lost in you&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7340911-108962767851256301?l=mitzch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mitzch.blogspot.com/feeds/108962767851256301/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7340911&amp;postID=108962767851256301' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7340911/posts/default/108962767851256301'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7340911/posts/default/108962767851256301'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mitzch.blogspot.com/2004/07/lost-without-you-by-skin.html' title='Lost Without You by Skin'/><author><name>MitZch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04700292077681375250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://www.pimpyopage.com/8-24-03-Unique-Image160.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7340911.post-108928585659988541</id><published>2004-07-08T04:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-07-08T04:25:37.903-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I Like For You To Be Still - Pablo Neruda</title><content type='html'>&lt;h2&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.pimpyopage.com/Rom%20(215).gif" /&gt;&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like for you to be still&lt;br /&gt;It is as though you are absent&lt;br /&gt;And you hear me from far away&lt;br /&gt;And my voice does not touch you&lt;br /&gt;It seems as though your eyes had flown away&lt;br /&gt;And it seems that a kiss had sealed your mouth&lt;br /&gt;As all things are filled with my soul&lt;br /&gt;You emerge from the things&lt;br /&gt;Filled with my soul&lt;br /&gt;You are like my soul&lt;br /&gt;A butterfly of dream&lt;br /&gt;And you are like the word: Melancholy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like for you to be still&lt;br /&gt;And you seem far away&lt;br /&gt;It sounds as though you are lamenting&lt;br /&gt;A butterfly cooing like a dove&lt;br /&gt;And you hear me from far away&lt;br /&gt;And my voice does not reach you&lt;br /&gt;Let me come to be still in your silence&lt;br /&gt;And let me talk to you with your silence&lt;br /&gt;That is bright as a lamp&lt;br /&gt;Simple, as a ring&lt;br /&gt;You are like the night&lt;br /&gt;With its stillness and constellations&lt;br /&gt;Your silence is that of a star&lt;br /&gt;As remote and candid&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like for you to be still&lt;br /&gt;It is as though you are absent&lt;br /&gt;Distant and full of sorrow&lt;br /&gt;So you would've died&lt;br /&gt;One word then, One smile is enough&lt;br /&gt;And I'm happy;&lt;br /&gt;Happy that it's not true&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7340911-108928585659988541?l=mitzch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mitzch.blogspot.com/feeds/108928585659988541/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7340911&amp;postID=108928585659988541' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7340911/posts/default/108928585659988541'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7340911/posts/default/108928585659988541'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mitzch.blogspot.com/2004/07/i-like-for-you-to-be-still-pablo.html' title='I Like For You To Be Still - Pablo Neruda'/><author><name>MitZch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04700292077681375250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://www.pimpyopage.com/8-24-03-Unique-Image160.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7340911.post-108868279248462480</id><published>2004-07-01T04:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-07-01T04:53:12.483-07:00</updated><title type='text'>my current LSS...</title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;marquee&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And everytime I try to fly ...I fall without my wings ...I feel so small... I guess I need you baby...And everytime I see you in my dreams...I see your face, it's haunting me...I guess I need you baby  &lt;/marquee&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7340911-108868279248462480?l=mitzch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mitzch.blogspot.com/feeds/108868279248462480/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7340911&amp;postID=108868279248462480' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7340911/posts/default/108868279248462480'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7340911/posts/default/108868279248462480'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mitzch.blogspot.com/2004/07/my-current-lss.html' title='my current LSS...'/><author><name>MitZch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04700292077681375250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://www.pimpyopage.com/8-24-03-Unique-Image160.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7340911.post-108867732618830661</id><published>2004-07-01T03:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-07-05T04:39:05.613-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Sound of my Heart Beating...</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;these wounds won't seem to heal &lt;br /&gt;this pain is just too real &lt;br /&gt;there's just too much that time cannot erase &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i've tried so hard to tell myself that you're gone &lt;br /&gt;and though you're still with me &lt;br /&gt;i've been alone all along&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-my immortal (evanessence)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*******&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;On the other side of a coin there's a face&lt;br /&gt;There's a memory somewhere that I can't erase&lt;br /&gt;And there's a place that I'll find someday&lt;br /&gt;But sometimes I feel like it's slipping away&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some things are lost, some left behind&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Some things are better left for someone else to find&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe in time I could finally see&lt;br /&gt;I just wonder, wonder if you think about me&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- in a little while (uncle kracker)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;********&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;How can you move so quickly&lt;br /&gt;How can you heal so fast&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tell me what you see in her&lt;br /&gt;That used to be in me&lt;br /&gt;Why is it the simple truths&lt;br /&gt;are hardest to believe&lt;br /&gt;How can I start all over&lt;br /&gt;Knowing we'll just be friends &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You want answers that I can't give&lt;br /&gt;You want words I don't know&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ask me when I'm through&lt;br /&gt;getting over you&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- getting over you ( janis ian)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*******&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sunrays and Saturdays &lt;br /&gt;Perfect starry nights &lt;br /&gt;Sweet dreams and moonbeams &lt;br /&gt;And a love that's warm and bright &lt;br /&gt;Sunrays and Saturdays &lt;br /&gt;Friendship strong and true &lt;br /&gt;Oceans of blue and a room with a view &lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;To live the life you choose &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Always trying &lt;br /&gt;To have one and one make two &lt;br /&gt;And even though it never worked &lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I still feel love for you &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-sunrays and saturdays &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7340911-108867732618830661?l=mitzch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mitzch.blogspot.com/feeds/108867732618830661/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7340911&amp;postID=108867732618830661' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7340911/posts/default/108867732618830661'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7340911/posts/default/108867732618830661'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mitzch.blogspot.com/2004/07/sound-of-my-heart-beating.html' title='The Sound of my Heart Beating...'/><author><name>MitZch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04700292077681375250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://www.pimpyopage.com/8-24-03-Unique-Image160.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7340911.post-108857230783620743</id><published>2004-06-29T22:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-07-05T04:15:54.283-07:00</updated><title type='text'>If You Forget Me</title><content type='html'>&lt;h2 class="date-header"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.pimpyopage.com/Rom%20(128).gif" /&gt;&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If You Forget Me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want you to know&lt;br /&gt;one thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know how this is:&lt;br /&gt;if I look&lt;br /&gt;at the crystal moon, at the red branch&lt;br /&gt;of the slow autumn at my window,&lt;br /&gt;if I touch&lt;br /&gt;near the fire&lt;br /&gt;the impalpable ash&lt;br /&gt;or the wrinkled body of the log,&lt;br /&gt;everything carries me to you,&lt;br /&gt;as if everything that exists:&lt;br /&gt;aromas, light, metals,&lt;br /&gt;were little boats that sail&lt;br /&gt;toward those isles of yours that wait for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, now,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;if little by little you stop loving me&lt;br /&gt;I shall stop loving you little by little.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;If suddenly&lt;br /&gt;you forget me&lt;br /&gt;do not look for me,&lt;br /&gt;for I shall already have forgotten you.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you think it long and mad,&lt;br /&gt;the wind of banners&lt;br /&gt;that passes through my life,&lt;br /&gt;and you decide&lt;br /&gt;to leave me at the shore&lt;br /&gt;of the heart where I have roots,&lt;br /&gt;remember&lt;br /&gt;that on that day,&lt;br /&gt;at that hour,&lt;br /&gt;I shall lift my arms&lt;br /&gt;and my roots will set off&lt;br /&gt;to seek another land.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But&lt;br /&gt;if each day,&lt;br /&gt;each hour,&lt;br /&gt;you feel that you are destined for me&lt;br /&gt;with implacable sweetness,&lt;br /&gt;if each day a flower&lt;br /&gt;climbs up to your lips to seek me,&lt;br /&gt;ah my love, ah my own,&lt;br /&gt;in me all that fire is repeated,&lt;br /&gt;in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,&lt;br /&gt;my love feeds on your love, beloved,&lt;br /&gt;and as long as you live it will be in your arms&lt;br /&gt;without leaving mine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;-- Pablo Neruda&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7340911-108857230783620743?l=mitzch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mitzch.blogspot.com/feeds/108857230783620743/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7340911&amp;postID=108857230783620743' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7340911/posts/default/108857230783620743'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7340911/posts/default/108857230783620743'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mitzch.blogspot.com/2004/06/if-you-forget-me.html' title='If You Forget Me'/><author><name>MitZch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04700292077681375250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://www.pimpyopage.com/8-24-03-Unique-Image160.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7340911.post-108779969883690399</id><published>2004-06-20T23:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-07-05T04:16:39.563-07:00</updated><title type='text'>='(</title><content type='html'>&lt;h2 class="date-header"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.pimpyopage.com/Rom%20(128).gif" /&gt;&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Im not sentimental.&lt;br /&gt;There are words that I cant say.&lt;br /&gt;All that I can think of is the way my world has changed.&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly forever is not something that I know.&lt;br /&gt;If I loved less tightly, Will you have stayed with me?&lt;br /&gt;Im standing here without &lt;strong&gt;YOU&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ive never been alone.&lt;br /&gt;Im standing here without &lt;strong&gt;YOU&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;wondering why did YOU go&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- monica shroeder&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7340911-108779969883690399?l=mitzch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mitzch.blogspot.com/feeds/108779969883690399/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7340911&amp;postID=108779969883690399' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7340911/posts/default/108779969883690399'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7340911/posts/default/108779969883690399'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mitzch.blogspot.com/2004/06/blog-post.html' title='=&apos;('/><author><name>MitZch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04700292077681375250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://www.pimpyopage.com/8-24-03-Unique-Image160.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7340911.post-108779576139055777</id><published>2004-06-20T22:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-06-20T22:29:21.390-07:00</updated><title type='text'>wish...</title><content type='html'>I wanna be able to appreciate every single thing life has to offer both the good and the bad...and yeah even &lt;strong&gt;HEARTACHES&lt;/strong&gt; ='(&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7340911-108779576139055777?l=mitzch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mitzch.blogspot.com/feeds/108779576139055777/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7340911&amp;postID=108779576139055777' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7340911/posts/default/108779576139055777'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7340911/posts/default/108779576139055777'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mitzch.blogspot.com/2004/06/wish.html' title='wish...'/><author><name>MitZch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04700292077681375250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://www.pimpyopage.com/8-24-03-Unique-Image160.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7340911.post-108754611066910935</id><published>2004-06-18T01:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-07-05T04:17:43.973-07:00</updated><title type='text'>my "mawning sickness"</title><content type='html'>&lt;h2 class="date-header"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.pimpyopage.com/Rom%20(128).gif" /&gt;&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sneeze a lot in the morning everytime I wake up.&lt;br /&gt;It used to wake my roomies as well back in college ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its non stop sneezing as soon as I open my eyes.&lt;br /&gt;that's how they came to refer to it  as my "mawning sickness"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but ever since I started working and dealing with my london counterparts...I started to sneeze in the afternoon ...as soon as london opens (I reckon my mawning sickness now follows london time) haha... ;p&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7340911-108754611066910935?l=mitzch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mitzch.blogspot.com/feeds/108754611066910935/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7340911&amp;postID=108754611066910935' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7340911/posts/default/108754611066910935'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7340911/posts/default/108754611066910935'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mitzch.blogspot.com/2004/06/my-mawning-sickness.html' title='my &quot;mawning sickness&quot;'/><author><name>MitZch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04700292077681375250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://www.pimpyopage.com/8-24-03-Unique-Image160.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7340911.post-108747133908585108</id><published>2004-06-17T04:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-07-05T04:18:21.323-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hello Peeps!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;h2 class="date-header"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.pimpyopage.com/Rom%20(128).gif" /&gt;&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm pa-cute...&lt;br /&gt;-- posted by happyobituary using my account!!! grrr!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7340911-108747133908585108?l=mitzch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mitzch.blogspot.com/feeds/108747133908585108/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7340911&amp;postID=108747133908585108' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7340911/posts/default/108747133908585108'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7340911/posts/default/108747133908585108'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mitzch.blogspot.com/2004/06/hello-peeps.html' title='Hello Peeps!!!'/><author><name>MitZch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04700292077681375250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://www.pimpyopage.com/8-24-03-Unique-Image160.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7340911.post-108747162914647554</id><published>2004-06-17T04:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-06-17T04:27:09.146-07:00</updated><title type='text'>letting go...</title><content type='html'>so this is my very first blog...its just but appropriate for me to write about letting go...as I've been for a very very long time now trying to mend my broken heart...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;here are 2 of my most favorite letting go poems by Victoria Mosely (c/o clang clang )&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Withdrawal&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;I've given up the whiskey and the wine&lt;br /&gt;The cigarettes i've traded in,&lt;br /&gt;For nicotine patches on the skin&lt;br /&gt;You used to own.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;They say it has to end before new life begins&lt;br /&gt;But the sum of your withdrawal has proved once more,&lt;br /&gt;This soul is mortal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Outsiders look at me and see&lt;br /&gt;an independent woman's beauty&lt;br /&gt;wild and free,&lt;br /&gt;but they're not right:&lt;br /&gt;the night you left&lt;br /&gt;my mind was swept and rearranged&lt;br /&gt;with prehensile pain&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm a fish within your ocean &lt;br /&gt;Rainbow hued,&lt;br /&gt;An insect on your orchid deft &lt;br /&gt;At sucking food;&lt;br /&gt;A four leaf clover hiding on a windswept plain,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The nightly demons flick and pick like frenzied flies&lt;br /&gt;At this carcass that you've finished with where once &lt;br /&gt;grew, I,&lt;br /&gt;before cold turkey.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;When the smoke had cleared&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the smoke had cleared and the trellised dawn&lt;br /&gt;Wiped away the moon's tears;&lt;br /&gt;When I could step outside and know for sure I was alive&lt;br /&gt;When a strangers smile shifted your sadness from my &lt;br /&gt;mind:&lt;br /&gt;Then and only then could I surmise&lt;br /&gt;That there would be another sunrise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7340911-108747162914647554?l=mitzch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mitzch.blogspot.com/feeds/108747162914647554/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7340911&amp;postID=108747162914647554' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7340911/posts/default/108747162914647554'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7340911/posts/default/108747162914647554'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mitzch.blogspot.com/2004/06/letting-go.html' title='letting go...'/><author><name>MitZch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04700292077681375250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='32' src='http://www.pimpyopage.com/8-24-03-Unique-Image160.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
