<?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-1591118479173054916</id><updated>2012-02-09T03:03:35.938-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Self Proclaimed Protagonist</title><subtitle type='html'>I'am my own hero</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mongkeetalk.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1591118479173054916/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mongkeetalk.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Vanessa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10420977147480738934</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>16</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1591118479173054916.post-5209800200103113453</id><published>2007-12-20T00:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-20T00:20:25.083-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Another Dead Blog</title><content type='html'>It's been months since my last post... months without anything to put here. I've been suffering laziness and writer's block. Besides i'm too much in love to write anything right now. I'm content getting lost in my own world with him. No need to worry about pathetic self proclaimed blogs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yes this is another one of my dead blogs among countless others. It was a good run I think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who knows I might post again... but until then I'm gonna be busy being in love.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1591118479173054916-5209800200103113453?l=mongkeetalk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mongkeetalk.blogspot.com/feeds/5209800200103113453/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1591118479173054916&amp;postID=5209800200103113453' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1591118479173054916/posts/default/5209800200103113453'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1591118479173054916/posts/default/5209800200103113453'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mongkeetalk.blogspot.com/2007/12/another-dead-blog.html' title='Another Dead Blog'/><author><name>Vanessa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10420977147480738934</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1591118479173054916.post-4553996436440912772</id><published>2007-09-27T18:46:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-27T18:58:34.975-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Just Being Random</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Quote of the Day&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Would you rather have your rights violated or blow up?"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;-Jose&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love my classmates. They never run out of interesting and funny things to say. Take what Jose has said for example, we were talking about airport security and how it violates the basic rights of people. Or at least thats what our teacher in english believes in. Our teacher is someone I hardly understand. But whatever. She's okay. I mean I can pretty much handle her. Anyway... and then Jose chirps that in. Oh so funny. I was really smirking, trying hard not to laugh out loud. And he said that with a really serious face which made it even funnier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But there are lots of other funnier things but that's the one that really stuck to my head. I'm prolly gonna try to take notes next time. Haha!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1591118479173054916-4553996436440912772?l=mongkeetalk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mongkeetalk.blogspot.com/feeds/4553996436440912772/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1591118479173054916&amp;postID=4553996436440912772' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1591118479173054916/posts/default/4553996436440912772'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1591118479173054916/posts/default/4553996436440912772'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mongkeetalk.blogspot.com/2007/09/just-being-random.html' title='Just Being Random'/><author><name>Vanessa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10420977147480738934</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1591118479173054916.post-261723062563382250</id><published>2007-09-27T18:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-27T18:45:38.625-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Potty Mouth</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;I'm such a fucking potty mouth. I can't form a fucking sentence without fuck in it or shit or bitch or dammit... or.. well the list is long. That's what I get for watching South Park everyday. Like every fucking day. I cuss a lot. Like really a lot. My friend even said that I cuss a lot. It just became a habit. If shit happens, I cuss. If I trip my foot or I suddenly log out of ym, I cuss even harder. It's like I can't go by the day without cussing. If you've noticed from my older posts, I've cussed a lot of times. And it never gets any better. I dont know why but cussing somehow makes me feel better. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;A lot of people gets really surprised when they hear me cuss. Probably because it doesnt seem becoming of someone like me. Someone who looks really... gentle and shit. Well surprise surprise. There are more than meets the eye. I know I look well... innocent and shit but guess what I'm a terrible potty mouth. Like I cuss more than all my family members combined. Like shit yeah! It even seems like every minute I have to cuss. Its some sort of ritual or habit for me. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;Fucking south park. Corrupting my innocent and fragile mind. *sarcasm*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1591118479173054916-261723062563382250?l=mongkeetalk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mongkeetalk.blogspot.com/feeds/261723062563382250/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1591118479173054916&amp;postID=261723062563382250' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1591118479173054916/posts/default/261723062563382250'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1591118479173054916/posts/default/261723062563382250'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mongkeetalk.blogspot.com/2007/09/potty-mouth.html' title='Potty Mouth'/><author><name>Vanessa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10420977147480738934</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1591118479173054916.post-1794524838343251768</id><published>2007-09-20T21:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-20T22:01:44.245-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Loneliness Attack</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;I feel so damn lonely.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;This is the most terrible feeling ever. It's just so goddamn awful. I hate feeling like this at all. I don't know why all of a sudden I had a sudden attack of loneliness. At first I didn't know I was feeling this at all, I just began displaying symptoms of it and it dawned on me why I was feeling particularly down. Well of course there are symptoms. First, you begin to crave to be alone and then staring off into space, your mind racing with depressing thoughts. It's always the same but then it dawns on you why you are suddenly acting that way. For me, I found out that I was really feeling lonely.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;Curse that Bridget Jones movie. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;I was really doing fine before I watched that wrethced movie. And then I heard what Bridget Jones said on the last part of the movie, "I finally found my happy ending". Like what the fuck! This is why I hate romantic movies. It makes you reexamine your life particularly your love life. And it makes you hate yourself &lt;em&gt;and&lt;/em&gt; your life. Then you start asking yourself will you ever be truly happy and all those crappy shit. And &lt;em&gt;then&lt;/em&gt; you start wishing for the nth time to have at least a shred of happiness in your damn fucking life! But that's not going to happen. Oh no, because so far, you've suffered through enough heartbreaks to make you stop believing in love. And you're afraid to trust again because you're afraid to get hurt but in the same time you want just someone to love and take care of you. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;About this time, you'll realize how pathetic you are and how stupid and lame and corny and well just plain pathetic you are. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;And then finally you'll stop with your nonsense and get on with your pathetic life. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;Dammit! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1591118479173054916-1794524838343251768?l=mongkeetalk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mongkeetalk.blogspot.com/feeds/1794524838343251768/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1591118479173054916&amp;postID=1794524838343251768' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1591118479173054916/posts/default/1794524838343251768'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1591118479173054916/posts/default/1794524838343251768'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mongkeetalk.blogspot.com/2007/09/loneliness-attack.html' title='Loneliness Attack'/><author><name>Vanessa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10420977147480738934</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1591118479173054916.post-7512302365881664458</id><published>2007-09-18T09:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-18T10:24:35.747-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dreams and Inward Journeys</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;"I think that dreams are a way that people's minds illustrate the nature of their problems. Or maybe even illustrate the answers to their problems in symbolic language"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Stephen King&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Everything is so surreal. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Like I'm still in this dream like state and reality is not what I perceive it to be. Even now, typing seems so trivial and unrealistic that I must still be dreaming. The dream felt so real that it left a bitter taste in my mouth. I've never had a feeling before like this. I do remember it quite vividly but the details are vague. I just remember gelo, a guy, ate karen, sinks, parties, eyes and a dozen more. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;Thinking about how dreams represent things in our subconscious, I took things in perspective. Relating what I dreamt to what I have now. I'm not sure of my interpretations. But these dreams somehow enlightened me. As to what, I don't know. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;It's an amazing coincidence that I get this dream now. In class, we have been talking about dreams and their meanings. But then again, I've never believed in coincidences. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1591118479173054916-7512302365881664458?l=mongkeetalk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mongkeetalk.blogspot.com/feeds/7512302365881664458/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1591118479173054916&amp;postID=7512302365881664458' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1591118479173054916/posts/default/7512302365881664458'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1591118479173054916/posts/default/7512302365881664458'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mongkeetalk.blogspot.com/2007/09/dreams-and-inward-journeys.html' title='Dreams and Inward Journeys'/><author><name>Vanessa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10420977147480738934</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1591118479173054916.post-8541074973953281733</id><published>2007-09-17T22:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-17T22:28:07.655-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm back... sort of</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;School has been stressing me up to the point that I actually get sick. Now, I don't you have ever heard of someone getting sick from studying too much. But if not, yeah I'd be the first. Odd as it sounds I've been studying my ass to death. I know, I know. This is not like me at all, studying and all that crap. Anyone who's ever known me and been my classmate would know that I have the laziest ass in the planet! Like literally. I don't review until 5 mins before the quiz, I copy homeworks 2 mins before checking, I let someone write my name, Christ's sake! And don't get me started on what I do at home, it's too tempting. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;I was also in some sort of writer's block, if you may. I couldn't think of anything to put in here. I would start typing then pause then type again, another pause... type again and another long pause... then click the save button and that's it. I didn't have the "right inspiration", so to speak. Hey but that doesn't mean I'm inspired or whatever. Somehow, I just have something to say. It's like I'm no longer a constipated writer (someone, for me, who's having writer's block). Thank God for that. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;Now I do wish that this continues until I can write that damn essay our english teacher is making us write. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1591118479173054916-8541074973953281733?l=mongkeetalk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mongkeetalk.blogspot.com/feeds/8541074973953281733/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1591118479173054916&amp;postID=8541074973953281733' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1591118479173054916/posts/default/8541074973953281733'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1591118479173054916/posts/default/8541074973953281733'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mongkeetalk.blogspot.com/2007/09/im-back-sort-of.html' title='I&apos;m back... sort of'/><author><name>Vanessa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10420977147480738934</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1591118479173054916.post-5391334757145587348</id><published>2007-09-12T22:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-12T23:02:12.746-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Funny Shit</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v721/nocturnaldisease/untitled.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v721/nocturnaldisease/untitled.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v721/nocturnaldisease/untitled.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1591118479173054916-5391334757145587348?l=mongkeetalk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mongkeetalk.blogspot.com/feeds/5391334757145587348/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1591118479173054916&amp;postID=5391334757145587348' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1591118479173054916/posts/default/5391334757145587348'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1591118479173054916/posts/default/5391334757145587348'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mongkeetalk.blogspot.com/2007/09/funny-shit.html' title='Funny Shit'/><author><name>Vanessa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10420977147480738934</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1591118479173054916.post-6109644223883227998</id><published>2007-09-05T22:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-05T23:10:49.633-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fuck you bitch!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"&gt;I just felt like cussing. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1591118479173054916-6109644223883227998?l=mongkeetalk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mongkeetalk.blogspot.com/feeds/6109644223883227998/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1591118479173054916&amp;postID=6109644223883227998' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1591118479173054916/posts/default/6109644223883227998'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1591118479173054916/posts/default/6109644223883227998'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mongkeetalk.blogspot.com/2007/09/fuck-you-bitch.html' title='Fuck you bitch!'/><author><name>Vanessa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10420977147480738934</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1591118479173054916.post-7279381212338928431</id><published>2007-09-05T22:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-05T23:11:21.906-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Nuts in Knots</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:85%;"&gt;Guy: Hey, has anyone ever told you that you have the most beautiful eyes? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"&gt;Me: uh... (raised eyebrows) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"&gt;.....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"&gt;That's either the cheesiest pick up line or the most romantic. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"&gt;I dunno. You decide. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1591118479173054916-7279381212338928431?l=mongkeetalk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mongkeetalk.blogspot.com/feeds/7279381212338928431/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1591118479173054916&amp;postID=7279381212338928431' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1591118479173054916/posts/default/7279381212338928431'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1591118479173054916/posts/default/7279381212338928431'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mongkeetalk.blogspot.com/2007/09/nuts-in-knots.html' title='Nuts in Knots'/><author><name>Vanessa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10420977147480738934</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1591118479173054916.post-4863663878683244563</id><published>2007-08-30T20:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-30T20:54:55.840-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Spread Love not Math!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:85%;"&gt;My first week of class just officially ended. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:85%;"&gt;A breath of relief. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"&gt;I have three classes all in all, Math, English and Psychology. I like Psychology and English. I mean they're fun and easy... but Math? Now that's a different matter altogether. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"&gt;Math represents everything that my other classes are not. Boring and torture. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"&gt;My second class in math, I despised it with every inch of my soul.  I mean... 2 and a half hours of math?! I've never even heard of such torture until now! What kind of person would do such a thing?! It's insane! It's madness at its finest! I would've been ok if the teacher was fun but no... he was boring as hell. And couple a boring teacher wit a boring subject and voila! You have torture. It's like being slowly gassed to your death for two and a half hours. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"&gt;I was literally having recurrent thoughs of suicide during the two AND a half hours of maath. I would've gladly jumped off a bridge than listen to the useless chatter of the bald headed guy in front of us. I was even trying very hard not to gouge my eyes with my bare hands. Out of frustration I was even scratching the desk with my nails producing this screeching sound that I hoped would've killed the teacher. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"&gt;Ok. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"&gt;So maybe theye were a bit exaggerated. But hey at least you can picture how I felt! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"&gt;The thing that was so funny was when the teacher has his back on us, half of the class would turn to look at the clock and produce a resigned sigh. How sad... coz I was one of them. hahaha... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"&gt;I'm sorry I'm such a brat and did nothing but complain about Math. It's just that.. It's just... so... so... oh whatever..  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"&gt;Fuck Math! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1591118479173054916-4863663878683244563?l=mongkeetalk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mongkeetalk.blogspot.com/feeds/4863663878683244563/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1591118479173054916&amp;postID=4863663878683244563' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1591118479173054916/posts/default/4863663878683244563'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1591118479173054916/posts/default/4863663878683244563'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mongkeetalk.blogspot.com/2007/08/spread-love-not-math.html' title='Spread Love not Math!'/><author><name>Vanessa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10420977147480738934</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1591118479173054916.post-3464964121460651000</id><published>2007-08-30T19:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-30T20:28:44.961-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm giving up on us</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:85%;"&gt;I've tried my best to salvage what's left of our relationship but it's just not working anymore. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:85%;"&gt;I'm tired of trying to push myself to you. I'm tired of always being the one who's understanding in this relationship. Do you know how hard it is sacrificing everything that I have for and getting nothing in return? I sacrificed everything that I had!  My time, my money... and even my sanity! How can you be so insensitive? I was always the understanding one... I've even stayed up late for you... woke up early just for you. But you can't even see that can you? You're to blind to see how many sacrifices I've made just for you. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"&gt;I'm trying very hard to love you but you just don't appreciate everything I'm doing for you. You always try to confuse with your explanations. I'm so sick and tired of you trying to explain yourself to me. I just don't get you! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"&gt;You represent everything that people hate. But despite that I tried my best to love you... They said that you're not really that hard to understand so long as I love you. I love you but you just dont feel the same about me. If that is the case, then how is this relationship going to work?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"&gt;I'm sorry but I'm giving up on us. It's just not working anymore for me or for you. I'm really sorry. Goodbye... Math... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1591118479173054916-3464964121460651000?l=mongkeetalk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mongkeetalk.blogspot.com/feeds/3464964121460651000/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1591118479173054916&amp;postID=3464964121460651000' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1591118479173054916/posts/default/3464964121460651000'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1591118479173054916/posts/default/3464964121460651000'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mongkeetalk.blogspot.com/2007/08/im-giving-up-on-us.html' title='I&apos;m giving up on us'/><author><name>Vanessa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10420977147480738934</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1591118479173054916.post-9215881158930245889</id><published>2007-08-26T19:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-26T20:45:43.694-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ms. Lonely</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;I can't believe how pathetic I've become. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;I mean c'mon! Looking for love in a peer to peer file sharing system (a.k.a bearshare)? That's just damn low.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;While it is true that desperation does bring out the worst of us, what I did is so unbelievably pathetic and incredibly stupid. I never cease to amaze myself. *sarcasm* &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;I've even reduced myself to joining online dating sites and 3D chats though I didn't pursue them further for fear of losing my sanity. I've even gone as far as advertising in friendster. Now what kind of sick and demented psycho would that? Obviously me. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;And it's only now that I have realized the monumental stupidity of everything that I've done. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;But then, there's always a reason behind everything that I do. And it suddenly dawned upon me why I was so desperate to find a boyfriend. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;I felt alone and I wanted some sort of companionship. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;And the only way that would happen, I believed, is through a boyfriend. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;I've been miserable here, with no one else but my laptop to accompany me through my loneliest days. That's probably why I went to a frenzied search for a boyfriend... for a companion. Compared when I was in the Philippines. I needed no boyfriend. I felt that such things were too trivial for me. After all, I have many friends who can compensate for a boyfriend. But now... I dont have any friends...and well... you get the logic... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;I'm just a lonely soul who have sunken really low to be this desperate. Who can blame me, right? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1591118479173054916-9215881158930245889?l=mongkeetalk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mongkeetalk.blogspot.com/feeds/9215881158930245889/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1591118479173054916&amp;postID=9215881158930245889' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1591118479173054916/posts/default/9215881158930245889'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1591118479173054916/posts/default/9215881158930245889'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mongkeetalk.blogspot.com/2007/08/ms-lonely.html' title='Ms. Lonely'/><author><name>Vanessa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10420977147480738934</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1591118479173054916.post-6960386304296722912</id><published>2007-08-21T22:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-21T22:53:59.562-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fear Factor</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;So... let's talk about fear. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;For as long as I can remember, when people ask me about my fear, I have nothing to say. Simply because, as I have believed, I have nothing to fear. Rats, cockroaches and the other vermins that crawl around? They make my spine tingle with disgust but never in fear. Dying? Hardly an issue. Without a question, I was never afraid to die. Sometimes I tell them I'm afraid of the dark, which is sometimes true. But not really. Darkness is something I've always embraced, partly because it is where peace of mind can be found. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;So what exactly do I fear? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;It's only now that I've realized that there is something I fear above everything else. Something I've known all along but chose to ignore. Something so trivial that you might laugh at my own foolishness&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I'm afraid of being alone. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Go ahead. Laugh. Take your time. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I realize how absurd it is. How childish and irrational that fear is. But being alone just scares the hell out of me. Especially when you're in unknown territory like where I am right now. At first, I reasoned to myself that it's only human to fear what you don't know. But I knew that this was a lie. I was just afraid to be stranded in some place I hardly know especially with so many stranger. Americans, blacks, spanish, they all seem intimidating to me. At least for now. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Of course, this is not the root of my fear. It goes way back. Way back into kindergarten. I remember the first time that I went to school. I was so afraid of my mom leaving me to face school alone, that I became so hysterical. I was screaming at the top of my lungs, crying and begging her not to leave me. It took a lot of effort on her part to persuade me to let her go. Oddly,  it's a memory that only came back to me just now while I was contemplating on my fear. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Those are not the only instances. Take for example waiting, I've always hated wating... particulary when I'm waiting alone. I don't know why I hate it. Maybe it's because of the stares people give me, or the thought that people judge me from what they see. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;t's tormenting and its draining every bit of emotion that I have. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Fortunately for me, the answer to my problems from myself. Surprisingly, I blurted this one out while watching a film about blood and gore and everything in between. And when I realized what I said, the meaning started to sink in. And I'm very much glad because what I said gave me something to hold on to for tomorrow. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"To conquer your fear, you have to face it"&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1591118479173054916-6960386304296722912?l=mongkeetalk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mongkeetalk.blogspot.com/feeds/6960386304296722912/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1591118479173054916&amp;postID=6960386304296722912' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1591118479173054916/posts/default/6960386304296722912'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1591118479173054916/posts/default/6960386304296722912'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mongkeetalk.blogspot.com/2007/08/fear-factor.html' title='Fear Factor'/><author><name>Vanessa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10420977147480738934</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1591118479173054916.post-6017841739248161130</id><published>2007-08-19T22:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-19T23:22:12.884-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A good dose of nostalgia</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;We just got back from the airport. And watching so many Filipinos flank the airport, so giddy about going home made my feelings of nostalgia and homesickness all the more worse. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel miserable and I want to go home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-sigh- &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I curse the night that my dad told me he's going to send tickets  for me to come back in december. I've been haunted by the thought ever since. A day hasn't gone by that I haven't thought of coming back. Every night while I lie on my bed, waiting for sleep to come, I've always envisioned my homecoming. I've fancied myself stepping down the airplane... going through the customs... hugging both my father and brother while choking back tears of joy... then eventually surprising everyone I know that I'm back. I've kept dreaming of the countless hugs I'll be both giving and receiving and the warm smiles that I would be greeted with. The many pasalubongs I'll be dispensing and the catching up to do with my old friends. I could only smile at the thought of this. But nothing thrills me more than surprising them both. I've already imagined it a lot of times, as odd as it may sound. Coming up to them and surprising them both when they come out of class, hugging them both as if we haven't seen each other in a millenia. Oh, the possibilities are just boundless. Though t&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;he future is rather bleak for me, the thought of going back home is probably the only thing that makes me look forward to the next day with as much zeal as I could muster. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I really can't wait to go home. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1591118479173054916-6017841739248161130?l=mongkeetalk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mongkeetalk.blogspot.com/feeds/6017841739248161130/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1591118479173054916&amp;postID=6017841739248161130' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1591118479173054916/posts/default/6017841739248161130'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1591118479173054916/posts/default/6017841739248161130'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mongkeetalk.blogspot.com/2007/08/good-dose-of-nostalgia.html' title='A good dose of nostalgia'/><author><name>Vanessa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10420977147480738934</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1591118479173054916.post-8102611533795571372</id><published>2007-08-16T20:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-16T22:45:44.525-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hey, How Are You?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Scenario 1 &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Stranger: Hey how you doing?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Me: (silence) ... (smiles) ... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Stranger: ....... (walks away stiffling a smile)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Scenario 2&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Stranger: Hey how are you?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Me: (smiles) I'm good and you? (silence while waiting for an asnwer) ... (walks away but still overhearing the conversation)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Stranger: (mock laugh) I'm good and you? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;The dreaded american greeting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And sadly something I still haven't grown accustomed to. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;American culture is very hard to understand and get accustomed to. I grew up in a shletered country where they value decadence and respect above else. And being here in this country whose liberation never fails to astound and baffle me... it's just hard. It's hard adjusting to their ways and even harder growing accustomed to their culture. Because theirs is a culture wholly different from ours. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Deep inside my gut, I'm dreading everything that has yet to come. Because I'm still treading on unfamiliar grounds. And as they, it's only human to fear what you're not familiar with. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1591118479173054916-8102611533795571372?l=mongkeetalk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mongkeetalk.blogspot.com/feeds/8102611533795571372/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1591118479173054916&amp;postID=8102611533795571372' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1591118479173054916/posts/default/8102611533795571372'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1591118479173054916/posts/default/8102611533795571372'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mongkeetalk.blogspot.com/2007/08/hey-how-are-you.html' title='Hey, How Are You?'/><author><name>Vanessa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10420977147480738934</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1591118479173054916.post-8930941018019599312</id><published>2007-08-15T23:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-15T23:16:08.928-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Tribute to the Mongkees</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:85%;"&gt;Why Mongkee?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:85%;"&gt;A tribute to my friends found somewhere along the Dominican Road. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:85%;"&gt;A reminder of how much I miss them both.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:85%;"&gt;A memento of all the good memories that won't be forgotten so easily. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:85%;"&gt;And because I have nothing else original to put.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:85%;"&gt;=) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1591118479173054916-8930941018019599312?l=mongkeetalk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mongkeetalk.blogspot.com/feeds/8930941018019599312/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1591118479173054916&amp;postID=8930941018019599312' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1591118479173054916/posts/default/8930941018019599312'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1591118479173054916/posts/default/8930941018019599312'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mongkeetalk.blogspot.com/2007/08/tribute-to-mongkees.html' title='A Tribute to the Mongkees'/><author><name>Vanessa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10420977147480738934</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
